Okay, I admit it—this is harder than I thought it would be. I assumed working in a baby shop and earning myself a discount would be a good thing, but it isn’t as fun-loving and carefree as I thought. Seeing all the couples coming in together, happy as they buy their baby stuff, hand in hand, arm in arm, all in love. I want that. God, I want that so bad, but it’s never going to happen for me. It’s too late for me and Brock.

Sometimes, when I’m shelf-stacking, I imagine what it would be like if Lucas hadn’t been around. If that night hadn’t happened, then maybe this would be a really happy moment. We would be one of those couples shopping in the store without a care in the world, secure in our love for one another. It’s a nice dream, but not one I ever want to get stuck in. I can do this by myself. It’s fine.

“Excuse me, miss?” A beautiful young lady taps on my shoulder. “Which crib do you recommend?” She sees me glance down at her very flat belly, and she smiles. “I know . . . I’m not showing yet, but I want to be prepared, and I just thought that since you’re further along than me, you might know.” She makes a sweeping gesture toward the display in front of us. “Which one do you have?”

“I actually don’t have one yet. I’m still trying to work out the best one for me.”

Actually, I just don’t have the money. Millie was right to be concerned about the pay here. By the time I paid off everything I owed, I wasn’t left with even enough to keep myself going. It’s a vicious circle. I haven’t bought anything baby-like yet, which isn’t really great. But I’m not in a bad enough state to call Brock yet. I’m willing to keep on fighting until I absolutely have to. I don’t want him involved. Not now.

“Oh wow, you’re brave, leaving it so late. Hasn’t your nesting instinct set in yet?”

“Uh, I think that’s something right at the end.”

“Well, I’ve got it right now.” She rubs her flat belly and smirks. “Nine months of it, I suppose.”

Inadequacy rolls through me. This is another thing that comes with the baby store job. Everyone in the world is already a better mother than I am. Even the ones who are doing this the first time around as well. They all seem to know more, to have more, to be more. It’s a crushing reminder that I’m winging it every single day.

“Nine months of nesting. Well, you will have one very lucky baby then. A lovely home to come into.”

I force the bright fake smile onto my face, and I go through all the specs of the cribs. She probably knows I’m not really someone to give advice, but she seems to hang onto my every word anyway.

I grab the mail as I walk through my front door, weariness overcoming me. It isn’t so much a physically demanding job—although I do find it hard to be on my feet all day with this baby in my belly—but it’s emotionally pretty demanding on me. I really don’t feel like looking at demanding letters.

“Medical bills.” I shake my head sadly. “I need better fucking insurance, that’s for sure. Who knew that having a baby would turn out to be so damn expensive? Fucking hell, and rent demands as well. I paid my rent!”

But one quick check on my online account shows me that the payment was rejected because I didn’t have enough in the bank on that specific day. Which means I now need to find that money plus the bank fee.

It isn’t just that letter. There are lots of them. I’m sinking. It feels like I’m in quicksand, and it’s rising higher and higher with every passing moment. It creeps up to my neck, and I can almost taste it in my mouth already, filling my lungs, blocking off my air, killing me slowly. I try to gasp in some air, but that just fills me up more with the sand. There’s no escaping it, no way to get out, no solution.

“I need to call him.” My voice is shaky as I admit this to myself. “I’m going to have to. I don’t have a choice.”

But as I pick up my cell phone, I don’t think I can do it. That blockage is still there, the knowledge that he won’t want to speak to me anyway. I’m sure the last thing he wants is to now give me money.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, how I’ll get out of this. It’s a mess. I can’t keep living here in this apartment. It’s costing me too much. I can’t go back to Millie’s now because she doesn’t live there alone anymore, plus I can’t invade her space with a baby, and I can’t go back to New York no matter what. Even if I’m sure Thomas is done with me now, I can’t risk it. I’ll never feel safe, especially not with a baby in tow.

I don’t belong anywhere, I don’t have any options anymore, I’m lost.

I hit the dial button without giving myself another moment to think about it. I barely even understand what I’m doing. I just need something to clear this quicksand away. I tried doing it alone, and it didn’t work.

“Pick up.” I squeeze my stray fist tight. “Please, please pick up.”

But as always, he doesn’t. He never does. Disappointment floods me as I drop the phone to the floor with a thump. However, as it hits the ground, it blasts out its ringtone, and I grab it quickly. I hit answer and press it to my ear without even thinking about. It has to be him. He’s finally given up ignoring me.

“Brock? Oh God, thank you so much for calling me back.”

“No, it isn’t Brock. Actually, it’s . . . um . . . it’s Lucas.”

My heart stops dead in my chest, I have to be suffering through the worst nightmare ever. “L-Lucas?”

“Yeah, I have some stuff I want to talk to you about.”

“How are you calling me? I thought you were in jail.”

“I am in jail. They let me use the phone, you know.”

“And you’re calling me? I don’t understand.”

I slump to the ground, desperately praying this isn’t about to all kick off again. I thought it was over. I assumed we were done. With him locked up, I didn’t think he would be able to contact me again. I don’t want to go through the rigamarole of getting a restraining order again. That was horrible when it came to Thomas.

“I wanted to apologize to you. I was a real asshole.” I’m silent, agreeing with him without words. “I can’t stop thinking about how badly I treated you on that night. It was really fucked up of me. Especially after everything you’ve done. You’ve always been there when no one else was.”

I melt a little, liking that he’s reached out to me to apologize. “Well, that’s nice, Lucas.”

“I really do mean it. You’ve always been so good to me. I appreciate you so much, Jodi.”

I cradle the phone to my ear, needing these comforting words today. “How are you doing in there, Lucas?”

His whole voice changes. “Oh well, not great really. Prison is horrible.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure it isn’t pleasant. But maybe that’s where you need to be right now. To get you off all the drugs and stuff. A detox, that sort of thing. Then you can get your life back on track.”

“Drugs? What the fuck are you talking about, drugs?”

“That’s what you got arrested for, isn’t it? Drugs possession?”

“I was carrying it, not taking it. God, you think so little of me, Jodi.”

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t want to argue with you. That isn’t what this is about.”

“I actually called you for help, Jodi, but it seems like you’re still wanting to be a little bitch.”

“Help?” My heart sinks. I feel sick. I cannot believe that I’m back here. “What do you mean?”

“I want to get out of here. I’m afraid I’m going to die. They threatened to shank me. I need some money to get out of here, even on bail. I can’t take it any longer, and you’re my only friend, Jodi.”

I toss my head back and laugh. “Are you kidding me? I have nothing. I have no money, almost nowhere to live, a baby on the way, and you still want me to support you? It can’t happen!”

“A baby? You’re having a fucking baby? Are you still with him? He’ll pay it.”

“No.” My breaths come in short and sharp. I cannot believe that we’re back here again. “No, I’m not with him. I’m alone, obviously, or I wouldn’t be in this financial mess, would I? I’d be just fine.”

“Fuck off, Jodi. I can’t believe you’ve let me down again. After everything I’ve done for you, and you’re keeping your rich-as-fuck boyfriend to yourself. What sort of bullshit is that?”

He hasn’t changed at all. This isn’t an apology call . . . this is me getting dragged back into the same old vicious cycle. I can’t go back there, not now, not after all of this. I need to cut ties forever.

“You’re in the right place, Lucas. You need to be in jail. I can’t bail you out. I have to focus on me at the moment. I need to work out what I’m going to do, how I’ll have this baby.”

A string of expletives follow me, but I hang up the phone and burst into sobbing tears. Then I yank the sim card out of my phone and chuck it to the side, damaging it because I throw it so hard, but that’s probably a good thing. I don’t want Lucas to ever be able to get in touch with me again. I’m done with him for good.

Only . . . now what? I’ve broken my phone and now can’t contact Brock, not that it was going to happen anyway. I really am on my own. I lean my head on the table, and I cry and cry until there aren’t any tears left in me. The world is closing in around me, and I don’t know how to make it stop. Soon it’s going to swallow me up whole.

Knock, knock.

I barely lift my head off the table as the sound radiates through my brain. “I’m here, Millie. Just come in already.”

Knock, knock.

“Millie, you have a key. Just come in already. Don’t make me move. I’m comfortable here.” I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, but if she’s already here, then I don’t have much choice.

Knock, knock.

Urgh, I raise myself upright and force my sluggish body to take me to the door, to open it. I grab the knob and swing the door open, preparing myself to make up some excuse for my friend as to why I look like shit. I just can’t tell her about my money troubles or the conversation I’ve just had with Lucas. She’ll never understand it.

But it isn’t Millie standing in front of me. It’s another face I recognize well. One I didn’t think I would ever see again. All the air is stripped from my lungs, leaving my chest tight and deflated all at once. I don’t know what to do. I run my eyes up and down him, completely convinced I’m dreaming.

“B-Brock?” I rub my eyes, unable to believe this is the truth. “Is that really you?”