GONE BY MORNING
1523 Words
Seren woke up at four-thirty in the morning. Her mind had that sharp, clear feeling that only comes when you haven't actually slept at all. She had been lying in the dark for hours.
Her body went through the motions of resting, but her brain kept twisting and turning the same pieces of information, trying to find a way out that didn't feel like a total disaster.
There wasn't one.
She got out of bed very carefully so she wouldn't wake her mother. Her mother hadn't been sleeping well for weeks anyway, and she probably wasn't even asleep right now. The apartment was freezing. The building's heating system always acted up in the winter, so Seren had learned to sleep in layers and prepare for waking up stiff.
She made a cup of tea in the quiet kitchen. The sun wasn't up yet. Outside the window, the city was painted in that dark shade of blue that appears right before dawn—when the streetlights are still glowing, but the sky is just starting to remember its colors.
She thought about Callum Voss. She remembered how he looked on that rooftop—like a man who had finally been given permission to be tired for the first time in his life. She thought about the way he said her name in the hotel room, as if he were trying to memorize it. She had left while he was still sleeping because she knew if she waited for him to wake up, she wouldn't have been able to leave at all.
Leaving was the right choice. She was absolutely sure of it. He had a real life. An engagement. A massive world full of people, duties, and things that constantly needed his attention. She refused to be the woman who barged into that world demanding a spot.
But she also knew she couldn't keep this baby.
The thought hit her just as she finished pouring the tea. She had to set the cup down quickly before her hands shook and spilled it.
She couldn't keep it. She didn't have the money. She didn't have a stable life. Her mother was incredibly sick, her own job was just temporary catering work, and their apartment was already getting too small for one person, let alone two. The math was simple, and the math said it was impossible.
She picked the cup back up and drank the tea even though it was burning hot. The sharp pain in her mouth actually helped clear her head. It was a physical feeling, something real to focus on instead of just spinning in her own thoughts.
By six o'clock, she had made up her mind. By six-thirty, she looked up the clinic's phone number. By seven, her mother was awake and asking why Seren looked like she had just been hit by a truck.
"I just didn't sleep well," Seren said.
Her mother stared at her face. "You look like you've made a big decision about something."
"How can you tell?"
"You get this exact look on your face. It's the look that says you've decided to do something really hard, and you're moving forward with it whether you want to or not." Her mother placed her medicine bottles down on the table. "What decision?"
Seren sat down across from her. Through the window behind her mother's head, the morning sky was growing brighter. People were starting to move around the city, heading to work and living normal lives that didn't involve the crushing weight she was carrying.
"If I tell you something," Seren said, "you have to promise you won't try to fix it. You have to promise just to listen."
Her mother’s look changed. She set down her glass of water. "Okay."
"I'm pregnant."
The words hung heavily in the air between them. Her mother didn't move an inch. She just sat perfectly still, letting the news sink in.
"How far along are you?" her mother finally asked.
"Five weeks. Maybe six."
"Does the father know?"
"No."
"Are you going to tell him?"
Seren shook her head.
Her mother was silent for a very long time. She picked up her water glass, took a sip, and set it right back down. The slow, careful way she did it showed she just wanted something to do with her hands.
"What are you going to do?" her mother asked.
"I don't know yet."
"Seren." Her mother reached across the table and grabbed her hand. Her grip was weaker than it used to be, but it was steady. "Look at me. What do you want to do?"
Seren looked into her mother's face. She saw the lines around her eyes that had grown deeper over the last six months. She saw how her skin looked a bit gray from all the heavy medication. It was the face of someone fighting a hard battle and losing ground.
"I want to keep it," she said softly.
Her mother closed her eyes for a moment. "Okay."
"Okay what?"
"Okay, then we figure out a way. But you are not doing this alone. Do you hear me? You are not carrying this weight by yourself."
Seren felt something crack wide open inside her chest. "Mom, you're sick. You can't handle—"
"I can listen. I can be right here. I can help you plan out the details." Her mother squeezed her hand tightly. "I made my own choices in life. I had your father, and then he walked out, and I had to figure out how to survive on my own. I don't want that for you. But if keeping this baby is what you truly want, then we will make it work. We will figure it out."
Seren felt tears start to spill over, and she didn't even try to stop them. She let them flow, messy and heavy, while her mother held her hand across the kitchen table.
"I actually called the clinic back then," her mother said quietly. "Right after your father left me. I was going to—" She stopped herself before finishing the sentence. "But I didn't do it. And you turned out to be the absolute best thing that ever happened to me. So I know it's hard. I know it is completely terrifying. But I also know it is possible."
"You were married, though," Seren pointed out. "You had a husband."
"For about five minutes, until he decided he didn't want the responsibility," her mother said dryly. "Being married didn't help me, and being alone didn't make it any worse. The only thing that mattered was the choice. Once I made it, once I decided that you were worth the struggle everything else was just something to figure out."
Seren desperately wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that having a baby was a choice you could just make, and then the universe would magically fix everything else. But she was a practical person. She understood real-world limits, rules, and the crushing reality of money problems.
"I'm going to call and move the appointment," Seren said. "The one I made this morning."
Her mother nodded. "Okay."
"And then I'm going to find a way to make this work."
"Okay," her mother said again. "And I'm going to be right here beside you while you figure it out. You're not doing this alone."
Seren left her mother at the table and walked back into her bedroom. She found the clinic's phone number and called them before she could lose her nerve. The woman on the line was kind and professional. She changed the appointment—not to cancel it completely, but just to move it further down the calendar. In case you change your mind, the woman told her. A lot of women do.
Seren knew she wasn't going to change her mind. Still, she was grateful to have the extra time.
By the time she hung up the phone, her mother had fallen asleep on the couch again with the TV murmuring in the background. Seren sat down in the armchair, watching her mother sleep, and tried to map out her next steps.
She needed to find a real job that paid much better than temporary catering shifts.
She had to figure out how to tell a future boss she was pregnant so they couldn't legally fire her—even though they would probably try to find some sneaky excuse to do it anyway.
She had to accept the fact that this was going to be harder than anything she had ever faced in her life.
And most importantly, she could never, under any circumstances, let Callum Voss know that she was carrying his child.
She had made her choice on that rooftop when she saw his engagement news. She had made it again this morning when she decided to keep the baby. Those were the only two decisions that mattered now.
Everything else was just about surviving whatever came next.
She closed her eyes and let her body rest. She didn't sleep, just rested and waited for the long day ahead to move forward.
- Writer
