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“I could’ve been here,” I say, trying to keep my tone in check “I could’ve planned my leave for when the baby coive birth”

“I’m—”

“Yeah, I heard, you’re sorry”

Needing to get away before I say soret, I turn around and walk out the door My parents callthe door behind me

I’et in my truck and take off when I hear Micaela call my name

“I can’t do this right now”

“Ryan, please,” she begs “I didn’t mean for this to happen”

“What did you think would happen by hiding this froet ahold of me No letter or email I have le text or phone call So, please, Micaela, tell me… what the hell did you mean to happen?”

Micaela

Ryan glares at er, frustration, confusion, but the most prominent is hurt I hurt hi about my own self-preservation when I made the decision not to tell him about our baby I was blinded by the distance between us, but now that he’s standing in front ofI was

With the door open, our parents are standing in the doorway Everybody is quiet noith their attention on h, because he’s the person I owe an explanation to The person as affected by my choices

“I knorong, but I was scared,” I adhtens with a contraction I wrap et through it When I open my eyes, they’re filled with tears, but I refuse to let them fall I did this, created this tension, and I need to take responsibility “I told myself if I didn’t tell you, then you weren’t the dad, so when so happened to you, and you didn’tthe father of asps from behind me, but nobody says a word

“Please don’t fight,” I plead,eye contact with everyone “It was my choice, not et no it did But please don’t blame them I’m an adult and I chose not to tell anyone”