Preg-Not

7

Tiffany picked her up from the hospital. Raelynn was quiet, feeling ashamed that she would have to depend on Tiffany for some more weeks.

Tiffany's questions went into one ear and out the other, but not before clashing with the thousand questions in Raelynn's mind. A headache was crackling like thunder.

With a thousand-mile stale, she clutched the paperwork in her hands. In a few months, her mountain of problems would manifest itself in her abdomen.

A pregnancy.

Somewhere, a clump of cells was working like a city– multiplying, surviving, weaving together the strength for their first scream. They were right there, inside her, while the other mayor of the city was who-knows-where.

Maksim.

She had no idea how he would react. They never discussed kids, because they weren't in the budget. Would he want it?

Yes, he would.

Maksim was protective by nature. He didn't have many possessions, so he took care of what little he had. He was organized at home, and worshiped his female in the sheets. This child– although he would probably not touch it with a ten-foot pole out of fear that his huge hands would hurt it, wouldn't lack his love.

Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch her stomach, but she didn't let herself. She had to buy pregnancy tests just to be sure that this wasn't a huge misunderstanding. Maybe there was still a chance that her womb was as dry as her chest.

And if that wasn't the case... her shoulders sank. She had to talk to Maksim, because abortion wasn't an option.

Only a month passed since she left. Was he still in Arizona?

Tiffany helped her up the stairs. Their Brooklynn apartment had fair rent, but it was at the four-floor building with no elevator. Climbing those while she was in her last trimester would be a bitch.

If you're even pregnant, she reminded herself.

When Tiffany left to the supermarket to get her a few things, Raelynn slipped out. She went to the corner bodega and bought two home test kits. Sitting on the cold toilet and waiting worst the worst part.

She wished she passed out a third time so she could be spared this torture.

Grabbing the tests with a paper towel, she went into her bedroom and sank onto the carpet.

Please, please don't do this. I can't go back to Maksim. I love him. If he asks me to stay, I would. I can't do that to my father.

Maybe he wouldn't ask her to forgive him and stay with him. Maybe he would leave the mafia for them.

She shuddered. She didn't want to face the options. That's why she left in the first place.

Five minutes massed, and she raised her head to peek at cute, pink, little pregnancy sticks that were more like pink daggers.

Four lines stared back.

She counted them like they were chicken Mcnuggets and she wanted to make sure she got what she paid for. Surely, there were four. Not three or two, but four. Those four lines re-built the bridge she burned with Maksim.

She cried, feeling alone, although there was a developing being right there to keep her company.

Tiffany arrived an hour later and was greeted by ugly crying. She entered Rae's room, saw the tests, and hugged her tight. She promised anything that came to mind– I'll be here for you, it will be alright, we'll work through this.