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“There were medical complications toward the end of her pregnancy. The doctor let us know there was a high likelihood that the complications would impact her during labor and delivery, and there was a high risk for loss of life, either hers or our daughter’s. The medical team we worked with at that time strongly encouraged terminating the pregnancy. But...” He has fake tears in his eyes, and his voice is choked. “My wife told me and the doctors that if anything happened, the only priority would be to save our daughter. She wanted our baby girl to live.”

“What do you say to those people who argue that a woman should be able to make that choice for herself? Like your wife did?” The anchor asks, thinking they’re going to get my father to admit he’s pro-choice after that experience.

But no.

The asshole stays true to his controlling ways.

“I would say the same thing my wife said to me before she passed away. That bringing life into this world is the most important thing a woman can ever hope to do.” Father says, seemingly gathering his composure again and returning from whatever sad distant memory he conjures anytime he needs to emote.

“So, you maintain your goals align with the anti-abortion movement.” The anchor prompts.

“While the sacrifice is significant, our future depends on our children, on the next generation.” My father says. “My daughter is the most important person in my life. I love her more than anything. My wife’s sacrifice only solidifies that belief for me.”

“Fuck you,” I say, my voice growing louder with each phrase. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you! You fucking asshole!”

“Elsie!” Naomi says in shock before turning to where our friends sit a few tables away.

I’m drawing attention now, with my heaving sobs and tears streaking down my face.

Logically, I know there are so many false narratives that he’s spinning right now, but the hurt is just the same.

My hands go to my belly, cupping where my baby grows protectively.

“Selene…” Naomi says frantically, causing Selene to shoot up from her chair and come over.

One glance from her up to the screen to the tragedy I’m witnessing is all she needs to understand the situation.

“Zuri,” Selene says to the woman who’s joined us at the bar. “Can you cover the bill? We’re gonna take Elsie home.”

“Yeah, of course,” Zuri says as Selene wraps an arm around my shoulder to lead me out of the building.

“I’ll grab our bags and meet you at the car,” Naomi says, rushing back to the table.

My whole body is shaking as Selene walks me through the bar, the whole way feeling like my own personal funeral march.

Naomi has already re-joined us by the time we make it to my car, and she automatically hops in the driver’s seat.

“I’m fine. I can drive.” I protest.

“No.” She says calmly. “You’re not fine. You shouldn’t be driving, and Gunnar would kill us if we let Selene drive.”

“One little wreck, and suddenly, you’re not trusted to drive by anyone,” Selene grumbles, drawing a watery smile out of me. “Now, let’s get you home and into comfy clothes.”

Shame flows through me, knowing my friends have seen me at my absolute worst.

“Don’t do that,” Naomi says, intuitively sensing how I’m feeling. “Wipe that look off your face. There’s nothing to be ashamed of here. You’re allowed to experience your emotions and process them any way you see fit. We will sit with you through them. Then, you get to decide what to do next. Okay?”

I chuckle through my tears. “You’re gonna be a great therapist, Naomi.”

“And you’re going to be an incredible mother, Elsie,” Selene says reassuringly.

I attempt to smile at her. Thankful for my friends. For the fact that they know me well enough to know my fears and assuage them, even if just a little.

The whole drive home, though, there’s an unidentifiable tightness in my chest.

A longing.

It’s not until I’m dressed in pajamas and laying in my king-sized bed, cuddled by my closest friends, that I realize why.

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