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Ariya

"I hope you know that you ruined us!" Khyson yelled, I felt as if a painful fire ignited in my lungs and my ear drums burned.

It was all me.

"I didn't mean it-"

"You didn't mean keeping my son from me? Fucking hell! What the fuck Ariya.. your a terrible person.. I hope you know that, fuck!"

"Khyson, please where are you going?" I followed him to the doorway of Rylans room.

"I'm getting my son."

I watched him appear with a sleeping Rylan on his shoulder, the feeling of them getting farther with every step dawning over me.

It was like my whole body was still. Frozen in place.

"You can't just take him-"

"Daddy's here, he's not going anywhere. I'm here, I'm here now." He smiled while running a hand over Rylan's head.

"Khyson that's not fair."

"No, you keeping my son from me was fucking unfair!" He screamed.

"Please." I begged, and begged, and begged and begged.

"Don't bother showing up to work on Monday, you have until the end of the week to get your things from your office."

"You're firing me?" My voice wasn't angered or pained, or stressed. It was soft and questioning.

I took his observed silence as a yes.

"I need that pay check, Khyson, I don't have enough for rent, the fridge is almost empty-"

"Figure it out yourself." He mumbled while cooing Rylan in his arms.

"I need him, please. Don't take him, don't take my baby! Please, please, please I'll do anything, don't do this." I begged, dropping to my knees. Rylan was my everything, he gives me the will to wake up and look forward to being something. He gives me hope for the next day. His smile makes my year. He's my reason. And without him-

"You deserve nothing." He seethed.

It seemed as if my tears faded his very existence. How does one ponder the fact of losing their best friend, the love of their life, the father to their child. I began to wonder if it was me. If I had only told him.

"Khyson.. I'm pregnant."

We'd maybe be together, Rylan would've known his dad, I would've been happily married, stable and happy. Not wishing I would melt into the floor boards of my apartment and never be seen again.

What kind of mother does that make me?'

A shit one, I can tell you that.

The weak wood marked my knees, but I didn't care. My body was limp, it felt as if my soul had been limp also.

It's my fault this was happening.

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