“Your dad, what?” Ethan asks. We decided to eat at the diner for old time’s sake and we’re walking to no place in particular.

“He wants to help. Who am I to stop him?”

“You’re Stacie, his daughter. Yesterday you didn’t give a shit about him, now you’re all holly jolly for wanting him in the baby’s life?”

“Ethan, calm yourself. He’s giving money and paying for a lot of stuff. Stuff we can’t afford,” I run my fingers through my hair. I don’t really want to argue right now.

“Oh, come on! You’re gonna let him in for money? Looks like prostitution hasn’t left your system.”

“Don’t you ever insult me like that,” I say as I slap him across the face, “I’m thinking about my baby, so stop being so fucking selfish.” Before Ethan can open his mouth to back talk, I cross the street leaving him behind.

Before I know it the sun had set and I had been walking for hours. I didn’t think Ethan’s comment would keep replaying it in my mind, but it does. Suddenly a car pulls up beside me.

That face.

It’s Marcus.