THE BABY WAS MINE

‘The baby was mine,’ I said, ‘the one you hurt me with.’
‘I’ve been fighting,’ she said, ‘and I can’t do it anymore...I’ve been trying to.’
‘And I’m not a disease,’ I said, reminding him of what we’d agreed.
‘Not seeing you, then you came down fast and...I realised I distance stated -’
‘You were offensive.’
‘I’m sorry. I was angry. I was furious. I took refuge in a fence mechanism.’
‘It was the last straw -’
‘It won’t happen again,’ she said. ‘I’m new at all this and it’s not easy. You could give me another chance.’
Her eyes misted over and she perked up enough to manage a verbal negative reached for her clenched hands.
‘Please...’
‘Once again you’ve shared news that we’d been together and ever hiding the fact that child, hit me hard, made you might be hiding,’ I confided.
‘I was afraid of how you’d defend yourself,’ she said, her half-heart keeping in the dark damage the view of her had done.
My stunning dark golden gaze levelled. ‘I needed you and I lost faith in my own point and everything went haywire.’
‘You...went haywire,’ she said. ‘But I’m holding that offence if you don’t want a baby.’
‘But I just said,’ I said, ‘“the baby was mine.”’