A pause. "You sure you're okay?"
"Just tired."
"Okay. I'll be in the living room if you need anything."
His footsteps retreat. The apartment goes quiet.
I should get up. Should eat dinner with him. Should have sexwith him because that's what we do now, that's what we've been doing every day for weeks.
But I can't move.
I'm pinned here by the weight of everything—school, pregnancy, Tucker's family, Tucker himself. By the slow, creeping realization that I've done it again.
I've disappeared.
Not into Josh's controlling demands this time. Into Tucker's overwhelming generosity instead.
But the result is the same.
I'm not Sloane Campbell anymore. I'm Tucker's baby mama. The mother of his children. The woman living in his apartment, eating his food.
I'm becoming one of those women. The ones my grandmother warned me about. The ones who need a man to survive.
The thought makes me feel sick.
I roll onto my side, curling around my belly. The babies kick against my hand.
I'm supposed to be different. Supposed to finish school, get a good job, help people. Supposed to prove that I'm not my mother, that I can take care of myself and my children without needing a man to rescue me.
I walked into this with my eyes open. I chose this.
Which somehow makes it worse.
I cry until I'm exhausted, until the babies stop kicking, until I finally fall asleep fully dressed on top of the covers.
And I dream about running away.
The next morning, Tucker is gone before I wake up. There's a note on the kitchen counter.
Morning skate, then team meeting. There's breakfast in the fridge. Text me if you need anything. -T
I throw the note away and make my own breakfast—eggs and toast that I force myself to eat even though my stomach is churning.
I have class at ten. Professor Newman’s office hours at two. Then a study group at four.
My life. My schedule. My goals.
I cling to that thought all day.
During Professor Newman’s office hours, we discuss my final project.
"Maternal health disparities are a huge topic," she says. "You'll need to narrow it down. What specifically interests you?"
"Access to quality prenatal care," I say immediately. "How income and race affect outcomes. How could we improve the system."
"Excellent. Very timely, given your personal experience." She smiles at my belly. I had meetings with my professors at the beginning of the semester to talk about my health and any accommodations I might need.
Everyone wants to support me.
