Page 174 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

“Nothing like that,” I say, breathing out heavily through my mouth since my nose is clogged.

Then, like the mother she is, she reaches past me to snag a Kleenex from the box I’d taken to bed with me and wipes my eyes and nose for me.

Which starts another set of tears.

“Shae,” she says, her brows creasing and now moving into the space of alarm. “What’s going on? Please tell me, honey.”

“You’re going to be so disappointed in me…I’m pregnant.”

I release the words in a rush, not allowing myself to stop and try to make the raw truth prettier.

It is what it is.

I’m pregnant outside of wedlock, which is something my super-religious parents always posed as a near unpardonable sin—especially since their lives were irreparably changed when the same happened to them.

But Mom surprises me when she hugs me tighter and makes a happy sound.

“Shae Rivers! I could never be disappointed in you. Are you kidding? You’re having a baby! My grandbaby!”

I stare at her in shock until she places a smacking kiss on my cheek.

“Shae, I love you. This is a wonderful thing,” she says.

I have to tell her the truth.

“I’m not sure I want to keep it.”

The silence that falls is so thick I could choke on it, but Mama still maintains her unjudging expression.

“Okay. It’s okay not to be sure. Do you want to talk it out with me?”

Yes. No.God, it feels terrible having this discussion without Storm present. Without him even knowing I’m pregnant with his baby.

Still, I nod and turn around fully, pressing into my mama as if doing so would solve all the world’s problems.

“There are so many layers to this,” I say, and Mama hums and starts rubbing my back.

“Okay, let’s peel them back one at a time,” she replies.

I blow out a breath, warming the space between our bodies.

“Well, there’s the issue of Harvard,” I start, leaving the opening for her to tell me what to do about that.

“Well, what are the concerns and options there?”

Of course she’s going to make me work through my own conclusions.

“The concern is how is it at all possible for me to start graduate school at one of the most rigorous programs in thenation in a few short months? Especially when a few months after that, I would give birth?”

She hums again, processing the problem.

“That is a pickle. So what are some options?”

I bite my lip.

“I guess I could…” run into the night and hide forever? “I guess I could maybe defer a semester or a year. That way, I’ll have time to adjust to everything before adding in the stress of school.”

Mama nods. “Okay, and what else is a concern in this scenario?”

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