Page 28 of Implode

He bends at the waist and brings his lips to my ears. “Every hair on my body is standing on end over your exquisite beauty. You are stunning, Claire. Glowing. And I think I am falling in l—”

“No,” I snap. “Don’t say it.” I can’t hear it now. Not now. I have waited so long to hear his words of adoration, and right now, in this moment, hearing them would be a punishment to my soul. Maybe in another life, I would have welcomed them with open arms. But his words now are daggers to my heart. I want to tell him I am pregnant. I want to tell him it could be his. However, the last thing I need right now is one more disappointment.

The less he knows, the less of a chance he has to shatter my heart again.

Nic only thinks he wants to be with me, but that’s because he doesn’t know the full truth of the situation. He doesn’t realize I’m carrying a child that might not be his. Sure, he might do the noble thing and say it doesn’t matter. But then all too soon the actual existence of a full-time commitment will seep into the reality of even the strongest relationships, andhappy togethergives way to what? Friendship, if you’re lucky, or if you’re unlucky, then…

Sacrifice.

Indifference.

And the ultimate worst—resentment.

Nic won’t realize it now, but hopefully with time, he’ll understand that breaking up with me was the best thing for him and his future. He made the right choice for himself, and it’ll be best if I maintain that solid break—regardless of how much he tries to get me to cave.

I feel Nic’s eyes on me as I force one foot in front of the other and I make my way to the other side of the restaurant in search of the restroom. I stare at myself in the mirror. There’s a swell to my belly, most likely from my carnivorous food choices. I may have consumed an entire animal, and the more I think about it, the more disturbed I feel.

I place my hands over the small bump, imagining what it would look like if it grew significantly bigger. I’ll have to buy new clothes, change some of my routines, and start going for check-ups. Going out for drinks will be a thing of the past, and I’ll need to start on some kind of vitamin regimen. There is so much to think about that the more I try to think about all of these changes, the more freaked out I get in return.

I’m not prepared to be a mother. I don’t have the knowledge or financial means necessary to give my child a good life. I want better for my baby than I had growing up. Isn’t that what all parents strive for when raising a kid? At least the nonshitty ones do. I’m not quite sure what my parents were thinking when I was born.

I can’t turn away from my own reflection. There are bags under my eyes that no amount of foundation can conceal. Even though I’ve been sleeping for longer periods of time than I typically do, it’s just surface-level sleep. It’s not a deep, restful sleep. I could stay in bed all day and still feel like I lack energy. Maybe all my energy is going into growing this baby.

I pivot and enter a free stall. I just can’t keep my thoughts at bay. Every single thing that passes through my brain is in regard to the new life developing inside me. I need to find an obstetrician. I need to find out why my birth control failed. I need to stay on as an Entice employee so I can reap the benefits of having decent health coverage.

I wash my hands and exit the restroom. On my way back to the table, I catch the waiter’s attention and ask for my bill. He kindly pulls a receipt out of his pocket, double checks that it is mine, and then passes it over to me.

“Thank you,” I mutter, scanning my eyes over the bold amount printed at the bottom. I blink and try to clear my vision. Seventy dollars and fifty-three cents? Shit. “Here’s my credit card.”

I walk back to the table, feeling Nic’s eyes all over my body. I slump down into the chair opposite him. The food was delicious, but pangs of guilt erupt over the wastefulness of money that could easily go toward the baby. I definitely need to start cutting back on eating out and figure out ways to pack my food for workdays.

“Ma’am,” the waiter says, hovering over my seat. He leans in toward me and whispers, “Your card was declined.”

I snatch the piece of plastic from his hands and shove it into my handbag. “That’s fine, I’ll pay cash,” I mumble out of reflex. I don’t even know if I have enough. I dig through my handbag and pull out every loose bill I have stuffed inside. The waiter goes about his work, while I am left alone with Nic. I can’t make eye contact with him. He has to know by my frantic pile of ones and fives I keep adding to the table that I am struggling.

“Claire?” he asks, drawing my attention to him, as he places his hand over my shaking one. “I got you covered, okay? I interrupted your dinner, so let me take care of this.”

I wad up my cash in disproportioned balls, handing it over to him in fistfuls. “Here’s my contribution. Take it. I’m going to be short, but take it anyway.”

He smiles warmly at me, but not in the pitying kind of way—at least that is how I would like to interpret the curvature of his lips. “Save it for a bakery purchase for the future. I am craving a cream-filled cock. Bigger, though. More life-sized and proportionate to mine.”

My eyes grow wide and then I burst out laughing. “They were good, huh?”

“The best I’ve had, but not like I have much to compare it to.”

We continue laughing with each other, and it makes me wish our circumstances were different. I want things to be easy again.

“Claire?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to fight for you.”

My eyes dart up to his. “What?” He looks sure of himself—maybe even smug.

“You heard me, baby. I’m going to win you back.”

“Why?” I ask stupidly.

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