She parked the bicycle in front of his house. It had been weeks since she had been here after "the incident". The familiar building stirred memories she had tried so hard to bury. The first time she came here, excitement had bubbled inside her, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. She had just started dating Zeke then, and he had invited her over to study for their exams. She remembered how her heart raced with anticipation that day. Now, her chest felt heavy.
She sighed and rang the doorbell.
The door opened almost immediately. Zeke stood there with a bright smile. At the sight of him, the tears she had been holding back for too long spilled freely. His smile faltered, confusion quickly replacing it.
"What happened to you, Sam?" he asked, his brows knitting together.
"Can I come in?" her voice trembled. He stepped aside without a word, and she walked in and sat on the couch.
"So…" he began, watching her closely. "Why are you crying?" he asked with a concerned look on his face. Her heart pounded violently against her chest. The words sat heavily on her tongue, refusing to come out. Her palms were damp, her throat dry.
"Talk to me," he urged gently.
"I—I…" her voice broke. She swallowed hard. "I’m pregnant."
"What?" Zeke froze, disbelief written all over his face.
"I’m pregnant with our baby," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No. No, that can’t be," he said quickly, standing up. He began pacing the room, running a hand through his hair."What do you mean? It was just one time."
His words struck her like a slap.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," she said quietly, hurt lacing every word.
"I can’t be a father now," he snapped. "You have to get rid of it."
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She stared at him, stunned. This was not the man she knew, the one who used to listen to her dreams, who once promised to always be by her side.
"I can’t," she said, shaking her head. "I can’t have an abortion. I’m more scared of that than childbirth itself."
"You can’t have what?" he stopped pacing and looked at her in disgust. "I can’t accept this baby."
"What do you mean?" her voice cracked. "You said you loved me, Zeke. Let’s go through this together."
He laughed—a short, bitter chuckle that made her heart sink.
"I’m afraid you’ll have to do this on your own."
"What?" fresh tears streamed down her face.
"I can’t tarnish my parents’ reputation because you want to keep a baby," he said coldly. Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, he added, "And I’m not even sure it’s mine."
Her heart shattered completely.
"Zeke, please," she begged, desperation filling her voice. "Don’t do this."
"Get out," he said, turning his back on her. "I don’t want to see you ever again."
"Zeke, please—"
"GET OUT!" he screamed.
She stood up in fright, her entire body trembling.
"I’m sure you know your way to the door," he said without looking at her as he walked into his room.
Still in shock from Zeke’s unbelievable behavior, she walked slowly out of the house. The weight in her chest felt unbearable. Outside, she paused and gently rubbed her stomach, uncertain of the fate of her child.
