Chapter 49 A New Life

Chapter 49 A New Life
  Maya
  Two weeks later
  I slowly walked out of the doctor’s office, my heart dropping with each step.
  Shay and her girlfriend, Marie, immediately stood from where they’d been seated, waiting for me to collect the test results.
  Yeah, I’d moved to the countryside where Liam and I had stayed for a week. I knew it sounded ridiculous, but no one knew me here. 
  I could start over without worrying about prying eyes. Liam wouldn’t find me even if he wanted to—if he ever would. He was getting married, anyway.
  “Hey,” Shay called softly.
  They both stared at me, waiting. Waiting for anything.
  They’d been kind since I moved here, helping me find my footing. I knew it was dumb that I’d decided to go into cooking. 
  I’d never been a good chef—or a chef at all—but I was in awe of the idea. I wanted to create something people could enjoy, so I’d started taking cooking classes.
  Everyone was tired of me burning things and messing everything up, but I hadn’t traveled all this way just to give up. I’d get it eventually. Maybe not soon, but definitely.
  I gave a small, humorless chuckle and lifted the paper in my hand, pressing my lips together.
  “Yeah. I’m pregnant,” I muttered.
  In that moment, it became real. There was life inside me. Not just any life—Liam’s child.
  “Oh, honey,” Marie whispered before stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. I didn’t move. I just let her hold me.
  I was numb, yet painfully aware of everything. Every single thing I felt.
  Shay ran her fingers through her hair, staring at me with pity.
  I hated it.
  I hated being looked at like that. And it had been happening more often lately—probably because I was only a shadow of who I used to be.
  “What do you want to do?” Marie asked softly as she pulled back, her light-blue eyes searching my face.
  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
  And it was the truth.
  I didn’t know if I should keep the baby or—
  I wasn’t sure I was ready to be a parent. A single mother. 
  Most importantly, I wasn’t sure I was ready to love a child when I wasn’t done learning how to love myself—when I was still trying to find who I was.
  “How far?” Shay asked.
  I glanced at her, biting my lip.
  “How far along are you?” she repeated.
  “A month,” I muttered.
  It was ironic. Just when I decided to start having sex again, I got pregnant. I hadn’t done anything to prevent it. We both knew what we were doing and went ahead anyway.
  I hadn’t thought about the consequences then. Now they were staring me right in the face.
  “I’ll just go home,” I muttered.
  Marie sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over? We can take care of you until you decide what you want to do.”
  “That’s really sweet,” I said, offering her a small smile. “But I need some time alone.”
  She nodded a little too quickly before walking back to Shay and holding onto her arm.
  We left the hospital, my mind flooded with thoughts. All I wanted was to crawl into bed, hug my pillow, and sleep.
  Maybe—just maybe—when I woke up, this would all be a bad dream.
  I got home about twenty minutes later. I’d rented a one-room apartment in the eastern Montana plains, surrounded by solitude with only a neighbor or two nearby. It was far from town, and I preferred it that way. Quiet.
  It felt like hiding. From life. From people. From everything.
  And somehow, I loved it.
  It was perfect.
  I unlocked the door, stepped into the sitting room, and shut it behind me before sinking to the floor, digging my fingers into my hair.
  I had no identity. No parents. No lover. Nothing.
  And now, I was about to bring a child into the world to suffer alongside me.
  At least it would have a father—an absent one—whose life would be all cherries and blossoms while we rotted away.
  He would never know. Never hear about it.
  If I kept this child, it would be mine. Mine alone.
  Maybe then I would matter to someone. Maybe someone would love me and not leave. Maybe I’d finally have someone to call mine.
  My hands slid to my stomach.
  I would be nurturing a life.
  My chest tightened, my eyes stinging as I swallowed hard.
  I was going to be a mother.
  I pulled my knees to my chest and cried—mourning the things I’d never had and likely never would.
  But one thing was certain.
  My child would remain.