Stella

 

Stella was at work when it hit her: her period, or more accurately, the lack thereof. She was supposed to get it three weeks before, but she’d been so stressed about the Haven stuff that she hadn’t noticed until now that it hadn’t shown up.

 

“Fuck,” Stella muttered to herself, heading to the bathroom for the tenth time that night. She sat down in the bathroom stall of the ladies’ room, burying her head in her hands as she considered her options. She’d have to buy a pregnancy test somewhere to be sure, but where could she get it without attracting attention? Some of the drugstores in town were affiliated with the Marauders, and if word got back to Cameron that she might be knocked-up, she didn’t know what he might do.

 

She finally landed on a plan to take a bus to the next town over, in Thunder Rebels’ territory, where nobody knew her and nobody would care. The next day, before her shift at the Haven, she went to the neighboring town, got a pregnancy test, and went into a coffee shop nearby to use it.

 

As the result came back, she froze in place on the toilet seat in the coffee shop’s bathroom, staring down at the little pink plus sign on her test, feeling like she was going to throw up everything she’d eaten over the past month. Goddammit. Goddammit, just my fucking luck, she thought to herself, tempted to just go into hysterics and laugh at the whole situation.

 

She couldn’t tell Mark. That much was certain. Even after the sweet, tender sex they had the night that Cameron stormed into her apartment, she didn’t know if their relationship had really changed at all. Mark never said anything about being her boyfriend, and Stella was too afraid to ask. As far as Stella knew, he was still just her friend. A friend with benefits, to be sure, but still just someone vaguely concerned about her.

 

It wasn’t like he was willing to lay his life down for her or anything like that, so why would he respond well to this news? She was so fucking stupid, letting him fuck her without a condom, but it’d just felt so good, so right at the time… Idiot, she told herself, staring down at the positive sign on the pregnancy test. Fucking idiot.

 

Stella finally straightened up, throwing the positive pregnancy test in the trash and straightening up her clothes. She couldn’t afford to fall apart, even if that was all she wanted to do right now.

 

She was on the bus, halfway back to her apartment when she got a text message from Nicole. Hey, girl, what’s new with you?

 

Stella had to laugh, leaning her head against the window of the bus as she stared down at her best friend’s text message. Her fingers moved of their own accord, ready to type out a message telling her the news, but she stopped herself before she could send it. She used to be able to tell Nicole everything, but after her friend had just left her the night that Cameron showed up, Stella was having doubts about her loyalty. Maybe for Nicole, the club came first, which meant that Cameron had to come first. After all, Nicole was practically married to a Marauder already, and the MC was like her family. Stella wasn’t her sister; she was just her friend, especially now that she’d quit Stormwatch and moved on with her life. Maybe if Stella told Nicole about the pregnancy, she’d tell Ian, who of course would tell Cameron.

 

Stella shivered a little and pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders, feeling bile slowly climb up her throat as she thought of what Cameron might do if he found out. He’d fucking kill me, Stella thought, staring out the window as the bus sailed past various houses and small businesses on the edge of town. And definitely Mark. Mark would be dead in a second if Cameron found out.

 

Nicole sent her another text a moment later. Are you okay? I’ve been a little worried about you. Stella stared down at the message for a long moment before clearing her throat and typing out a quick response: I’m fine. No worries. Nicole would probably be able to see through it and detect that something was up, but hopefully she wouldn’t push the issue any further.

 

Stella sighed and shut her eyes, willing the pounding in her brain to subside. For so many years while she was with Cameron, Nicole was her only lifeline, the one person that helped her hold on through all the bullshit. But now they were further apart than they’d ever been, and maybe they’d never be close again. Stella had never felt this alone in her entire life.

 

When the bus finally rolled to a stop in her neighborhood, she rushed to her apartment, running inside until she could collapse on her bed, pulling a pillow forward to hug against her body. For a long time—maybe an hour, maybe two—she just stared blankly at the wall opposite her bed, counting the chips in the paint just to give her mind something to do other than worry about the baby steadily growing inside of her.

 

She used to imagine this moment when she was a little girl, playing with baby dolls and picturing what her own daughter would look like. She never thought she would feel so much despair about creating a life. Fucking Cameron, she thought, gritting her teeth so hard it hurt. He ruins everything.

 

As if on cue, her phone went off the next second, Cameron’s name flashing across the screen. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Stella groaned, tempted to crash her phone against the wall and break it into little tiny pieces. She was too tired to actually do it, though, instead glaring down at her phone until it went silent again.

 

Of course, a minute later a new voicemail from Cameron popped up. Stella put the phone on speaker and pressed play, grimacing a little as Cameron’s rough voice filled her apartment a second later. “Hey, Stel. Thinking about you a lot. Listen, I know I was an ass the other day at your place, but I just want to spend some time with you. Miss you really bad, honey. Give me a call back when you get this. I just want to talk to you.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Stella said, scoffing to herself as she deleted the voicemail and resumed pressing her face into her pillow, wishing she could squeeze all the worries and fears out of her brain.

 

Not even a half-hour passed by before Cameron called again, this time hanging up a few times to call back right away. Finally, he left another voicemail, and this time his tone on the message was much more annoyed. “Hey. It’s me again. Look, I know you got my message from before. Why are you avoiding me? Just because of that thing with that meathead at your apartment? Come on, sweetheart, don’t be like this. Call me back.”

 

Stella again deleted the message, only getting out of bed to get a glass of milk to fill up her whining stomach. She really just wanted to stay in bed until she starved to death, but she couldn’t do that kind of thing anymore. She had to be responsible for the life inside of her.

 

Another ten minutes passed by, and once again Cameron called. When she didn’t pick up right away, he began to send her a series of text messages, one after another after another. Hey, call me. Then, What’s wrong, sweetie? And then, Why are you being this way? I just want to talk. And then, Fine. Fuck you, too. You know, I did everything for you and this is how you repay me? Fucking whore.

 

Despite everything, despite how much she hated him and everything he stood for, his words still hurt. She couldn’t help it. She stared at the slur on her screen, picturing Cameron saying it straight to her face. Maybe he was right. She did land herself in this ridiculous situation, after all, just because she couldn’t keep her legs closed. Why am I such a fucking moron? Stella wondered to herself.

 

But then Cameron sent another text a minute later. Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry. That was bad. I shouldn’t have said that. Please, just talk to me? I’m going crazy over here. I need you, baby.

 

Stella felt her insides turn cold as she looked down at his message, her fingers beginning to tremble as she read the words over and over again. He’s never going to give up on me, she realized, feeling like her heart was turning to ice in her chest. He’s never going to stop trying to control me. He thinks it’s love. He thinks he loves me, so he’ll never stop fighting.

 

She’d never really accepted it until right now. She always used to think that if she just got out of the relationship, everything would be fine. But it was clear now that it wasn’t happening that way. As long as she was within reach, Cameron would keep intruding on her life, breaking in like a burglar and stealing away all hope. He’d never let go.

 

So that settles it, she thought as she felt exhaustion descend upon her. I have to get out of town. As soon as possible.

 

# # #

 

Stella showed up for her next shift at Haven, determined to make as much money as possible to save up before leaving town. But at the same time she wanted to make sure that nobody caught onto her plan before she could carry it out. She’d have to make a clean break after leaving, cutting off all communication with Nicole so that Cameron wouldn’t have a way to find out where she was. It was the only way to make sure that she and her child would be safe, away from his reach.

 

“Stella, give Mark some help in the stockroom, will you?” Wesley said on his way back to his office.

 

Stella was tempted to say that she was too busy, wanting to avoid direct one-on-one time with Mark as much as possible, but she couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse, so she followed Mark down into the cellar, the place where they’d first fucked.

 

Mark was as silent as ever, moving boxes around without looking at her. Maybe this would be easier than she originally thought. It wasn’t that she wanted to stop seeing Mark, but she knew that the second he found out about her pregnancy he’d flip out and break things off himself. It was easier and less painful if she just went ahead and stopped things before they got any more serious than they already were.

 

But after they sorted through the new shipments of liquor, when Stella tried to walk back up the steps to the main room of the bar, Mark put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Hey. We’ve got a few minutes if you want to…” He trailed off, but Stella knew he was talking about sex. That’s what they did, right? They fucked. That’s all they were.

 

But Stella forced a sheepish smile and shook her head. “No, it’s my time of the month, so…” She shrugged and tried to get out of Mark’s grasp so she could keep moving, away from him.

 

But Mark’s hand was firm on her shoulder. “I don’t mind,” he said, stepping closer to her until their chests brushed up against each other.

 

“Well, I do,” Stella said firmly, shoving Mark’s hand away forcefully. “Sorry, but I’m not into it, okay? So don’t push it.”

 

“All right,” Mark said, sounding a little taken aback, surprised by her harsh tone. She began moving toward the stairs again, but then Mark spoke again, freezing her in her tracks. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No,” Stella said a little too quickly, causing Mark to raise his eyebrows in wordless question. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I’ve just got to work, okay?”

 

She quickly turned on her heel and marched up the steps, leaving Mark behind in the basement. Stella breathed hard, inhaling as much oxygen as possible to give herself strength to keep going, to keep walking away from him. She needed to do this. She needed to break things off, as quickly and painlessly as possible.

 

For the next several days, it was the same thing. She made up some excuse not to fuck, rushing away towards some hypothetical task whenever he tried to talk to her. Soon enough, he seemed to get the message, no longer walking over to her or even nodding to her in greeting when he started his shifts at night. They went back to coworkers, friendly acquaintances that weren’t even all that friendly towards each other.

 

Stella forced herself to ignore the ache in her chest every time she saw Mark out of the corner of her eye. She tried hard not to notice the gorgeous curve of his shoulders, the beauty of his broad hands. This is what you need to do, she told herself every time she averted her eyes to the floor to avoid looking directly at him. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t want you, not really. Don’t torture yourself by drawing it out any longer. You need to be strong. You’re a mother now.

 

But no matter how many times she repeated that mantra to herself, there was some small part of her, deep inside her heart, that screamed in protest. This wasn’t what she wanted. But it was reality. What else could she do?