How do you tell a guy you just met a week ago that you might be pregnant? Better yet, how do you explain that you forgot to get the morning after pill after having unprotected sex just because your mom had a fever and needed to be driven to the hospital? I just want to cradle my head in my hands and cry, but the full reality still hasn’t set in, so I’m holding onto my sanity. For now.

I stand outside the restaurant, checking my phone and looking around the parking lot again for his car. Stop freaking out. You probably just fucked up your period because you missed the pill a few times. I was actually due for my period two days after he slept with me—no, fucked me. I was able to push that to the back of my mind and believe it was stress or missing the pill for a while. Now? Now I’m not so sure. I should just get a pregnancy test and be sure one way or another, but I can’t bring myself to take that step. That will make it permanent, real. Right now it’s just a maybe, and nobody’s life was ever derailed by a maybe.

Then again, my life left the tracks a long time ago. I think back to the conversation I had with Mom yesterday. She sounded hopeful about the latest report from her doctor, but all he said was the tumor hadn’t grown since her last visit. It wasn’t shrinking, it just wasn’t getting any worse. I tried to sound excited for her, but I couldn’t help thinking about the inevitability and unfairness of it.

Where the hell is he? I move around the side of the restaurant, not sure what I’m expecting to see. It’s not like he’ll be wandering around trying to find the entrance and needing my help. All I see is a white Cadillac driving slowly around the parking lot looking for a space, but they keep passing perfectly good spots to park. Morons.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve taken off my heels and I’m sitting on the bench, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. Of course he didn’t show up. Guys like him don’t jump through hoops for women. They stick around until they get tired of the sex and move on to something new and fresh. He probably realized I wasn’t giving it up easily enough and decided not to waste his time. I don’t know if I can even blame him. I probably seem like a total mess. What kind of woman throws away so much for a few minutes of pleasure?

I rub a hand on my stomach and feel tears welling in my eyes.

The host steps outside the restaurant and gives me a worried look. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”

I sniff, wiping away tears and smearing my makeup. “No, these are tears of fucking happiness.”

He reels back, rushing inside like I just flashed fangs at him. I sigh, cradling my head in my hands and letting the tears flow freely. When did I become such an idiot?

* * *

Four Years Later

“Roman! Get your shoe out of your mouth!”

Roman gives me the cutest guilty smile imaginable and slowly lowers the shoe. “Sorry, Mommy.”

I sigh, kneeling down and hugging him tight. I still can’t believe how much I love him. He’s my little guy, and he’s the one thing in this world that keeps me sane. I can see so much of Leo in him. He has Leo’s long eyelashes, dark hair, and mouth, but he has my pert nose and green eyes.

“Can you maybe play with some of the toys I worked so hard to buy for you instead of eating your shoes?”

He giggles and runs off, yelling out something between a war cry and a scream. I smile as I watch him go. I really don’t know what I’d do without my little man. There has been so much pain and strife in my life, and it has all been packed into such a short span of time. I think it would break most people, but I’m still standing. For now, at least.

I look at the mail stacked on the kitchen table and mentally brace myself as I tear open the first letter. I know what it is going to be before I even open it. We just got the bad news that mom’s cancer came back last month. I haven’t had the heart to tell Roman yet, and I don’t know when or if I ever will. I don’t know what good it would do for him to know. I also haven’t figured out how I’m going to help her pay again. I’m still paying off loans I took to get her through her last treatments. She has her social security checks, but she can’t work anymore, and the bills are astronomical. There’s just no way for her to do it without my help, and I’m not going to watch my mom suffer idly.

Still. It’s one thing to say and another to do. I look at the bill from Bayside Hospital—four thousand seven hundred dollars. All I want to do is bang my forehead on the table and give up, but I can’t. I have mom depending on me and Roman needs me to be strong, so I suck it up and set the bill to the left, in the “what the hell am I going to do about this” stack. The rest of the mail is mostly reminders about outstanding debt, new bills, notices of what is going to be shut off and when if we don’t pay soon. Too bad I can’t just burn it all down.

I stand up when I’m done and look over at Roman. “Where are your pants?” I ask.

He straightens, frowning at me in confusion and then looking down at his little tighty whities. His mouth forms a surprised “O”. He points toward the bathroom.

I go to pick him up but he runs from me. I laugh, chasing him through the house as he giggles, bobbing and weaving beneath furniture that only he’s small enough to fit under. When I finally catch him, we’re both huffing and puffing. “You little gremlin! I’m not taking you to Lauren’s without pants on.”

“Why not?” he asks, still smiling.

“Because it’s not civilized.”

I find his pants on the bathroom floor and Roman puts them back on. “I want to be civilized.”

“Good,” I say, bending down and ruffling his hair. “Because civilized little boys make mommies happy.”

“I’m not little. I’m almost four.”

I grin. “Civilized young men.”

I sink into my office chair and try not to sigh in despair. Ever since I had Roman, I’ve made an extra effort to cheer myself up. My mom was always such a positive force in my life, and I want to be that for him, too. Especially since he’s having to grow up without a father. That thought skids across my consciousness so often I should be numb to it by now, but it still makes my eyes sting. My little man doesn’t have a dad. He doesn’t have someone to look up to or to teach him how to throw a baseball. I’ve done my best to do that with him, but I can’t do it all, no matter how hard I try, and it breaks my heart.

Ted opens the door to my office. He sits in the chair opposite my desk and leans back, squinting his eyes in the fake way he does that he thinks makes him look sexy. It just makes it look like he’s constipated though. “Looking great, as usual, Julia.”

“I have an appointment in a few minutes, Ted.”

He rolls his eyes and moves to stand behind me, putting his slimy hands on my shoulders and giving a sad excuse of a massage. “A few minutes is all I would need.”

“I’d be shocked if you needed more than thirty seconds,” I say.

His hands freeze on my shoulders and then his grip tightens until it’s painful. “Be careful. Do I need to remind you what will happen if you make me unhappy?”

I grit my teeth. “No.”

I can hardly believe he still holds it over my head after so long. I’m even tempted to just test him on it and see if he really could get anyone to believe him four years after the fact, but I can’t. Whether I like it or not, Ted is highly connected in the industry. If I give him a reason, he can make sure I’ll never see another patient again. He might even be able to get me fined. The only way I have to keep my son fed and with a roof over his head is to put up with Ted’s shit. Now that mom is sick again, even this isn’t going to be enough anymore. I may have to start working nights, but I’m already away from Roman so much. I can barely stand the idea of having to be gone even more. Lauren is nice enough to watch him during the day because she’s a stay-at-home mom now. She says he’s no trouble, but I know how huge a favor she’s doing for me. I can’t ask more of her.

The door opens and a woman with tattoos and a severe case of resting bitch face walks in and sits on the couch, folding her arms and staring at the wall. Ted reluctantly takes his hands from my shoulders and walks to the door. He glares at me once before closing it behind him. Sometimes I just wish Leo would come back, even if it was only for an hour. I’d love to see Ted try his bullshit when Leo was around. The thought is enough to cheer me up, and I turn to my patient.

“So, tell me how you feel.”