She didn’t say she loved me. I have come to count on those three words over the last month and a half we have been together. Those words work to give me strength to make it through the day. Carrie is my lifeline. Yet, I think I’ve fucked up so much this time that I’m losing her. I hold her so close it’s almost like my body is absorbing hers, but there is this wall between us now, separating us. I did that. I put that wall there with my stupid weakness. I should have protected and cherished what Carrie gave me and I fucked it up.

I live with fear every damn hour, of every damn day. I live with it. I beat down the urge to run and crawl in a fucking hole and hide constantly. This is my life. Panic attacks and my heart beating in fear? This is my life. Feeling dirty and ashamed and weak…feeling so fucking weak and useless? This is my life.

It’s always there. ALWAYS! Yet, with Carrie it is smaller, it is less apparent, it’s like I have whole blocks of the day when I can be almost normal. She is my light, and I didn’t protect it. I didn’t fully appreciate it. If I lose her I’ll be completely lost.

Which means right now fear is near to suffocating me and is more intense, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt before in my life—including the night I was attacked. The fear I have now, is a fear that goes bone deep. The fear of losing someone I love. I love Carrie. I. Love. Her. Yes, I realize the irony of acknowledging I love her, just when I have pushed her so far away she’s not giving it back to me. I need to fix it, I’m not sure how.

I had Carrie drop me off at the club this morning, since my bike was here. I’ve been here for three hours, and I can’t concentrate on anything. I need to be with her. I have to fight for her and show her she matters more than anything else. I may not be great, but I know with her I can be okay. I can make her happy.

With that in mind, I throw my tools down and get to my bike. It’s time I prove to Carrie that I can be better for her. Her vehicle is not at the house. I will not panic. She probably is just doing errands in town. I can catch her there and we can have lunch together and maybe go home for dessert. I didn’t make love to her last night and I need her. Over the past month we haven’t missed a night of making love, most of the time two and three times a night. I hunger for her and the way it feels when I’m that close to her.

This could be a bad idea though. I have no idea where she is. London might still give a small town feel, but there are elements of a bigger city in it, with too many places she could be. I start with her favorite. The Curl up and Dye hair salon she gets her hair fixed at is a bust, the local grocery she prefers, the bank, the library, the bookstore—all a bust. I’m about to give up when I decide to drive downtown to the local diner she likes.

Downtown London is probably my favorite area besides the marina and lake. It’s a busy place with shopping, offices, diners, schools and clinics all put together to give someone everything they need without having to really visit the outer areas, which are overcrowded with large shopping outlets. The buildings are kept up nicely and all have an architectural feel of the past. It is modern, but also a step back in time. It doesn’t stress me out like most crowded areas do.

I’m approaching Weaver’s which is a London, Kentucky classic and Carrie’s favorite place to eat downtown when I see her vehicle parked outside the Wellness Center and Clinic. I remember she told me she had made an appointment. Why didn’t I ask when it was? I would have gone with her. I know she has been sick for a while maybe she was worse this morning?

I park and walk inside scanning the lobby for her. I’m about to give up and wait for her outside, when a door opens across from reception and Carrie walks out with a nurse. She hasn’t spotted me, but I can tell she is upset. I walk over to her afraid this might be something more than a cold.

“Ms. Grace here’s your prescription for prenatal vitamins and the pamphlets you should look at. The clerk out front will schedule your follow-up appointment.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Carrie says.

“We’ll see you next visit. Please call if you need anything before then.”

“Prenatal…?” I ask, not even realizing I spoke out loud. The room fades away with the exception of the nurse’s words and Carrie’s face as she turns around and sees me standing in front of her.

“Jacob? What…what are you doing here?” She asks once the nurse goes back through the door.

“Prenatal? Did she say Prenatal Vitamins? Carrie, are you pregnant?” I ask and even I can hear the panic in my voice.

Carrie’s face drains of what little color she had. I watch as her eyes water, but she takes a breath and composes herself.

“Jacob, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working? How did you find me?”

She asks all those questions, but she doesn’t look at me. She instead starts walking to the door. I turn her back around to me instead.

“Carrie, are you pregnant?” I’m pretty sure if my heart doesn’t stop beating this hard I will have a stroke.

“Jacob please, there are too many people here to do this right now. Let’s go…”

“I don’t give a fuck who is here. I’m asking you, are you pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Yes.

It floors me. Shit. Carrie’s pregnant. It’s not like it should be a big surprise, I’ve been fucking the hell out of her and not once—not one damn time did I ever think about using a condom. I never went ungloved before Carrie. With her, I didn’t even think about it. I knew I was the first to ever be inside of her and I didn’t want anything between us, she was special. She is special. It was an unconscious decision. It was…fuck, why didn’t I think about it? Me a dad? What could I ever offer a kid? How could I take care of a kid? What kind of kid would want me as a role model? Most days, I can’t even look in the damn mirror. How will a kid ever want to look at me? What happens when he or she learns about their old man and what happened to him?

“Fuck.”

The word comes out without me meaning it to. I seem to have a problem with that lately, but holy hell my world was just shook on its axis.

Carrie hears me and she flinches as if the word slaps her. I know it does, and I want to bite it back. Instead, I make it worse.

“I’m not ready for this Carrie, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”

“I’ve taken so much crap off of you,” her quiet voice echoes in the room.

I know there are other people around, but for me all that exists is Carrie. There’s so much pain in her sentence. I hear it and look at my woman, really look at her. She is standing in a yellow sundress with small daisies all over it. Her long auburn hair has been braided in some kind of complicated style and swirled on her head and it makes a man long to undo it. She’s gorgeous, even now with the faint glimpse of tears in her eyes. Yet, she looks miserable. I’ve done that.

“I’ve taken so much crap. I begged you to love me, to be with me and I shouldn’t have. If you couldn’t see that I was worth it, that I was….”

“Princess…”

“I’ve kept my mouth shut and I’ve let you blame and unload on me, because I felt responsible for it all. So I just kept going along, saying it was okay. It’s okay because I love Jacob and he has to work through so much, but I love him and he cares for me and I want to be with him and this is what couples do. They work through issues and problems and they come out on the other side stronger.”

“Princess…” I try again, but she doesn’t let me.

“I might be young and naïve like everyone keeps throwing at me, but I loved you Jacob. I loved you and I just knew if I held on and gave you all I could, it would be okay. That’s what couples do. They comfort each other. They are there for each other and they hold the fuck on TOGETHER!”

Carrie doesn’t curse. She goes out of her way to not curse. She doesn’t even yell. Except for the day at the marina, she’s hardly ever spoken back to any one in her life. Yet, here she is doing both, doing both in a crowded clinic with people we know, however distantly, staring at us. This is when I know I am in complete trouble. I have kept my head in my ass for too long. I’ve been so wrapped up in my misery, wrapped up in what was all about me, what was good for me, what I wanted and needed, that I left Carrie swinging out there on her own. I see it clearly and I am in trouble, but at the same time I keep hearing the same word and panic swaps me.

Baby. I’m going to be a dad. How the fuck can I take care of a baby when I need Carrie to even make it through a day? What happens if I have a panic attack when I’m alone with him? What happens if I crack and even Carrie can’t help me? A baby! How can I do this?

“They do Carrie, baby they absolutely do hold on and…”

“Except you didn’t, Jacob. I did. It was always me, but really, you never held on with me. You never held on for me.”

“I did Carrie, I’m here,” I say, but I am lying.

“No, you didn’t, Jacob. You held on for you.”

“Carrie, sweetheart…”

“I’m twenty years old. I discover I’m pregnant so I go to tell my boyfriend that I am and find a whore on his lap. All that and yet, I still talk myself into holding on! I listen to my boyfriend feed me excuse after excuse and I lie in our bed and talk myself into holding on! I go to the doctor to get information about ending a life inside of me. A life I dearly love already, knowing I couldn’t do it, knowing there was no way, but sitting and listening to the doctor calmly explain the option, all because I was trying to hold the fuck on!”

There are several people letting out collective gasps in the room. I can’t pay attention though, because her words are like bullets and each one strikes a deadly hit in my heart. She throws a pamphlet at my chest and I reach up and grab it in reaction. The rest of the paper fades into the background except for the hateful word staring back at me ABORTION. I did that. I drove Carrie to even hearing about this.

“Carrie…”

“I’m done.”

“What?” I ask and now the terror in my voice is thick. It chokes me.

“I’m done,” she walks around me and I’m too shook up to stop her.

“Carrie wait!” I yell walking out with her.

She has the door open to the SUV by the time I make it to her. She leans against the opened driver’s door. The tears aren’t just glimmering in her eyes anymore. They are falling fast and hard, but she doesn’t even blink.

“I’m done, Jacob. I’m not enough. I’ve never been enough and now? Now I’m fucking done.”

“You love me we can…”

“Right now I don’t even like you, Jacob Blake. We’re finished.”

She hops up in the SUV and I should be stopping her, I should be throwing the door open and taking her in my arms and stopping her, but I am frozen. Everything is replaying in my head. I see the hurt, the anger and the pain in Carrie’s eyes. I watch her back out of her parking spot.

We’re finished.

I may be standing on a busy street with the sun beating down, but right now I am standing in the cold. I am standing in complete darkness. Carrie took the light.