I’ve been waiting for Ethan in the police station for about an hour now, with my hands on my stomach, I feel like puking. Before I can, Ethan finally walks out the doors that he involuntarily went through a few nights ago. Thanks to me and my baby.

“Stacie, you’re here,” Ethan says relieved.

“I’m the one who got you out,” I whisper. I turn away quickly, knowing he’s going to ask how I did it. Not something I want to discuss.

“How’s the baby?” Ethan asks after a long silence. With nowhere to go, we just decide to walk around.

“I actually want to talk to you about that…” I say, “I’m thinking about getting an abortion tomorrow.”

Pause. Ethan stops abruptly and walks in front of me.

“An abortion?” He says.

“Yeah. I can’t handle this baby. I also found out that that man isn’t the father. I’ve been pregnant for a month and a few weeks.”

“Wait, how long?”

“The doctor said about a month and a few weeks, which is weird ’cause I always used a condom and—”

“That was around the time we had sex.”