Abby
My lips feel raw and sore as I pace back and forth in my room. I’ve been standing here for what feels like hours, chewing at my lips with my phone sitting open to Karl’s contact page on the bed.
I need to call him. I know I do. Despite everything, despite our breakup, he’s still the father of my child; he deserves to know about the baby.
But no matter how many times I try to hit the call button, I just can’t bring myself to do it.
The idea of hearing Karl’s voice feels both exhilarating and terrifying. I really do want to talk to him, but… maybe I’m a coward. Or maybe I’m too heartbroken to speak to him. After all, he did go behind my back and make a huge decision without my permission. He snuck fertility drops into my morning coffee for weeks.
And yet, his lies we
