She releases my hand and fixes herself upright, looking at me differently now.
“I want to kiss you,” she says quietly.
I smile, trying to lighten the heaviness in her voice. “Since when have you needed my permission to kiss me, Z?”
She moves closer and grabs my face, pressing her mouth to mine. It starts off soft and hesitant, but when I pull her in, it turns desperate. Hungry. Like we’re trying to memorize each other.
As if this is the last one we’ll ever share.
When she pulls back, she rests her forehead against mine.
“I think I should answer your question now.”
My stomach drops and I pull back slightly, searching her face and seeing that same fear in her eyes that has been there since the first mention of this secret between us.
“You don’t want to wait until we’re back in Florence?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think I can.”
“Okay,” I say, carefully. “If that’s what you want, then I’m ready.”
There’s that split second before your world shifts when your body knows something is about to break before your mind catches up. My chest tightens, my ears ring, and the ocean suddenly sounds louder.
Zalea takes a shaky breath. “I never got the abortion.”
The words don’t compute as I stare at her, stunned, the roaring waves the only sound between us. What the hell does she mean she didn't get it? Do we have a fucking kid walking around this world right now that I have no idea about?
“I’m going to need you to say more than that,” I manage.
“My mom went with me,” she says, voice trembling. “But when I got there and they told me about the procedure, I just couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t know what I wanted, but Iknew I couldn’t do it. So, my parents said they’d help me.” The air feels thin. “I was alone, Gabriel. I was so alone.”
“I-I need to get out of the water before I fucking drown,” I mutter.
I turn and swim for shore, my arms feeling heavy and my heartbeat too loud.
When my feet hit the pebbles, I collapse into the shallows, the waves washing over my thighs. I can’t tell if I’m cold or just shaking from what she just shared.
Zalea reaches me a few minutes later and takes a seat beside me.
“S-so we have a kid?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine.
“N-no,” she whispers. “Or I guess…yes?”
My heart slams against my ribs. “What happened, Zalea?”
She stares at the horizon, tears streaking down her face.
“I started having back pain early on, and I thought it was normal pregnancy pains. But at four months I started bleeding,” she says, her voice small. “My parents rushed me to the hospital and the doctors said I had an incompetent cervix. It was too late to fix it.”
The words feel clinical and detached.
“I gave birth to a baby girl,” she says.
“You…you gave birth?” My voice cracks. “To a girl?”
She nods, tears spilling freely now. “She didn’t make it.”
Everything inside me stops.
