a conversation


“…you know that. I could never do that, even for you.” She said firmly.
“I told you before, if you can’t do this one thing for me, then how will I know that you will go by your word? That you will ‘do anything for me’, like you promised?” he pleaded.
“You’re asking too much of me,” she said with steady resolve.
“But,” he pressed, “ you know nothing good could ever come of this. Everyone will know-your parents, people at school…”
“Maybe I want them to know.” She whispered, looking down at the sand.
“Why? Then they would know that you and I…that we…and I…and then you … no. You can’t do this to me!” at this, he pinned her against the pier, his hands on her shoulders.
“Don’t…” she begged, and turned to face him with tears carving a path along her cheek. “Please…I wouldn’t do this for you...for anybody. I can’t.” He released her and she turned away from him, rubbing her shoulder. “Not even for you.”
“ I…I’m sorry…I just...I can’t stand for this…thing… to come between us.” He sat down and buried his face in his palms. She sat down next to him, feeling that she should so something and wondering what that could possibly be. She gently removed a hand from his face and held in her own.
“ It’s not a thing…it’s your child. Our child. Our child never would have come to be if not for our love. So please…don’t make me do it.” He lifted his head and stared at a whorl in the pier’s wood. She let his hand fall out of hers and sat down, dreamily drawing a stick figure holding a gun to its own head. His eyes drifted over her, widening with alarm when they came to her hands.
“ No!” he bellowed, and she started. “You can’t! I won’t let you! You have me…and you’re your friends…a future…you have everything to live for! Why would you throw it all away?”
“Why should we have the right to throw it all away for it before it even has the chance…? She asked, and suddenly she curled up on the sand and began to sob softly. He kneeled beside her and enveloped her in his arms.
“It’s alright…it’s all gonna be okay…I’m here…just get rid of it…and all the stress will be gone…” She looked up with horror at his face. His eyes were closed, and tears were streaming out the sides.
‘I don’t believe this…’ she thought. “I thought I loved you,” she said slowly, “I thought I could trust you. Not anymore.” He stood up and made to open his mouth, but she put one finger on his lips and the other on her own. He stared at her as she walked away…
...
She delivered a baby boy. He was full term, no complications, half-hour labor. The nurses all cooed, saying that he was the most handsome baby they had ever seen.
He was.