“Have you forgotten?” He speaks over me again as if his rage won’t be contained. “What he did to you. How broken up you were, how depressed. How we all had to see you sad. Do you know how difficult it was? Do you realize how fucking hard it was to see you pine over a guy who never cared about you? Who took you for a ride? Who only did what he did to get one over on me?”
I stand up from my seat then.
On shaking legs, I go to him and grab the sleeve of his t-shirt. “No. Absolutely not. I didn’t forget. I can’t, okay? That’s the whole problem. I can’t forget what he did and I can’t forget him andGod, Ledger, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for putting you through all that. I never meant to fall in love with him. Inevermeant to betray you. Please, you have to believe me. You’re my whole world. You guys are my whole world and I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“But it did.”
Swallowing thickly, I nod.
Ledger studies me for a few long seconds before he jerks his arm out of my grip and begins to walk away. He walks out of the dining room and marches down the hallway, and I call out after him, “Ledger, what are you doing?”
I run after him when he doesn’t answer.
I find him at the front door, turning the knob and stepping out into the November night. I’m about to go stop him when I hear, “You’re not having a baby.”
Like before, everything stops.
My heartbeat. My breath.
I turn around to look at him. My oldest brother, who’s spoken these words. Who’s finally said something after I so tactlessly broke the news to him.
He stands in the living room, just by the leather couch, all tall and broad.
Commanding.
“What?” I whisper.
“You’re not having this baby,” he repeats.
“W-what does that mean?”
A harsh emotion passes through his features. “It means that you’re going to have an abortion.”
I put a protective hand on my belly then. It’s not even a conscious thought. “A-abortion.”
Con eyes my hand on my belly and his chest moves with a sharp breath.
“I’m going to call Dr. Hartley tomorrow,” he says, referring to our longstanding family doctor. “And see if he can recommend a clinic. Something discreet and reputable. I’ll try to get an appointment, probably for this weekend. It will be hard but I need this taken care of as soon as possible.”
“But I —”
“So you can go back to school Monday.”
“But I don’t want you to take care of it.”
His thick brows draw up together and his voice goes even deeper. “Excuse me?”
Swallowing, I take my hand off my belly and fist my fingers at my sides.
I run through all the arguments and points that I’d listed in my notebook. All the reading I’ve done and all the information I’ve collected.
Deep breaths, Callie.
I can do this.
I can absolutely do this. I can make my case.
“I don’t want you to take care of it, Con. I-I’m not getting an abortion,” I tell him.
