Out.
My mind started attacking me immediately.
I should have taken the morning-after pill.
Right after.
Why didn’t I?
Why had I let anger and desire override logic?
One moment.
That was all it took.
One night.
And history repeated itself.
How could one man be this fertile?
How could my body betray me like this again?
My fingers moved slowly.
Almost unconsciously.
They rested over my stomach.
Slow.
Protective.
Circling gently.
The motion was instinct — not decision.
Warm tears slid down my cheeks before I could stop them.
The first pregnancy had ended in blood.
On a prison cot.
Silence.
Doctors whispering.
A life that never got the chance to breathe.
A child erased by violence and circumstances I couldn’t control.
My chest tightened painfully at the memory.
Now history was repeating itself.
Except this time...
I had a choice.
