Chapter 1
On Thanksgiving night, my morning sickness had my stomach churning with acid, but all I wanted was the steamed crab from the Crab Shack, twenty kilometers away.
My boyfriend, Ryan Carter, said he'd go get it. He took three buses, got caught in the rain, and didn't make it back until eleven at night.
But when he handed me the bag, all that was left inside were a few crab legs and a pile of broken shells.
He said, "I ran into Emma on the way. She just got her heart broken and was crying so hard she couldn't breathe, so I stayed and had a few with her.
"You're pregnant. You shouldn't be eating so much food anyway. Don't be so unreasonable."
Before I could say a word, Emma's social media post popped up.
In the photo, a full plate of shelled crab roe and crab meat sat in front of her.
The caption read: [He said I shouldn't spend Thanksgiving alone and sad, even if it meant crossing half the city.]
So those three bus rides were never for me.
I rushed to the bathroom and threw up until my vision went dark. When I looked up, bracing myself against the sink, the face in the mirror was a joke.
Back at the dorm, I opened the hospital app and tapped on the abortion appointment.
*****
The doctor glanced at my test results and asked, "Are you sure you want to end the pregnancy?"
"Yeah," I said.
"You're still early. We'll do some tests to make sure there's no risk of ectopic pregnancy, then schedule the procedure. Anyone here with you? Family or boyfriend?" the doctor asked.
"No family," I replied.
I paused, then switched my phone to silent. "I'm here alone."
The doctor looked up at me, didn't try to persuade me, just slid the consent form over.
As I signed, the veins on the back of my hand twitched.
When I finished the last signature, I picked up my phone, seventeen missed calls already.
Ryan had sent me a message: [Are you done with your drama?]
Another message popped up right after.
[Emma was upset, so I had dinner with her. What's the big deal? Did you really have to drag yourself to the hospital over this?]
I stared at the screen for a long time before replying. [I'm at the hospital.]
He called almost instantly.
When I picked up, Ryan's voice was tight with anger. "What are you doing at the hospital?"
"Getting checked," I said.
"Checked for what?" he pressed.
"Pregnancy," I replied.
He went quiet for a couple seconds.
It was like he finally remembered how, just a few days ago, I'd held up the pregnancy test and nervously asked, "What do we do now?"
"Sophie, don't do anything stupid," he said.
"I already booked the termination," I replied.
"How could you not even talk to me about this?" he demanded.
I glanced at the closed exam room door and let out a bitter smile. "I tried talking to you last night when all I wanted was some crab."
"That's not the same," he shot back.
"You're right, it's not," I replied.
I kept my voice flat. "Last night, you crossed half the city for Emma. Today, I came to the hospital for myself. Neither of us is stopping the other."
"Can you stop with the attitude?" he snapped.
"Nope," I replied.
I heard his breathing get heavier. "Sophie, do you even know what you're doing?"
"Yeah," I said.
"That's our kid," he shouted.
"But you said last night that if I'm pregnant, I shouldn't be so unreasonable," I shot back.
He went silent again.
This time, he didn't argue.
The nurse pushed open the door and called me in for my check-up.
I spoke into the phone, "Ryan, don't come."
"I'm coming," he insisted.
"I said don't," I repeated.
"Sophie, if you go through with this by yourself, I won't let it slide," he threatened.
"Then don't," I replied.
I hung up and blocked him.
The nurse waited at the door, her eyes landing on my pale face. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said.
I shoved my phone into my bag and walked into the exam room.
The door closed behind me, shutting out Ryan's calls.
By the time my test results came back, it was already past noon.
The doctor told me everything was normal, and the timing was right. I could have the procedure tomorrow.
"Don't eat anything before the surgery, and try to get some rest tonight," the doctor said.
"Okay," I replied.
After leaving the hospital, I didn't go straight back to my dorm. Instead, I stopped by a print shop near campus.
I made three copies of the appointment slip.
One went into the hidden pocket of my suitcase, one got mailed home, and the last one I saved to my cloud drive.
It wasn't for anyone else to see.
For the first time, I realized some things are too important to trust to memory alone.
On my way back to the dorm, Lucas Reed, Ryan's roommate, called me.
Lucas asked, "Sophie, did you block Ryan?"
"Yeah," I said.
"He's freaking out in the dorm, asking everyone where you are," Lucas said.
"Tell him to stop looking for me," I replied.
"What happened between you two? Wasn't it just Emma posting something on her feed?" Lucas pressed.
I shot back, "You really think it's just about a post?"
He paused for a second. "I didn't say that."
"But that's what you meant," I said.
Lucas was always the peacemaker, never picking sides.
From high school to college, he'd watched Ryan treat me well, and he'd watched Emma slowly wedge herself into our lives.
He used to joke that Ryan was locked on me for life, nobody else stood a chance.
But now, he didn't dare say that anymore.
"Sophie, Ryan says there's really nothing between him and Emma," Lucas said.
"Did he tell you that himself?" I asked.
"He said it was just a random run-in," Lucas replied.
I scoffed, "And that plate of crab meat was just magically ready by coincidence?"
I heard Lucas take a quick, nervous breath.
I didn't wait for him to explain. I hung up.
As soon as I pushed open the dorm door, my roommate Grace rushed over. "Where have you been? Ryan came by twice, and the second time he brought Emma."
"Emma came too?" I asked.
"She's downstairs crying, saying you misunderstood them," Grace replied.
Grace handed me her phone.
An anonymous post had already popped up on the Campus Board.
[Thanksgiving night, a girl went to the hospital to do something stupid because her boyfriend had dinner with his heartbroken childhood sweetheart.]
People were already commenting.
[She's pregnant and still acting out? Poor guy.]
[Childhood sweethearts always get misunderstood.]
[She's just being dramatic, using the baby as leverage.]
Reading those words, my chest felt tight, like someone had pressed a wet rag over my heart.
Grace asked carefully, "Do you want to clear things up?"
"Clear up what?" I said.
"Tell them you didn't go to the hospital just because you were throwing a tantrum," Grace suggested.
"I don't owe them an explanation," I replied.
"But everyone's trash-talking you," Grace said.
"Let them talk," I said.
Grace was stunned.
I opened my laptop, took a screenshot of the forum page, and saved it.
Then I pulled up the Wellness Center's booking page and canceled the counseling session I'd scheduled for next week.
Ryan had booked it for me.
He said I was too emotional and needed someone to teach me how to be a "reasonable girlfriend."
But now, it was obvious the one who really needed to learn how to control their emotions wasn't me.
Downstairs, I could hear Emma crying. "Sophie, I really didn't know you were pregnant.
"Please don't hurt yourself because of me.
"Ryan was just keeping me company because I was upset. You can't force him like this."
Grace's face changed, her expression darkening. "What's she even trying to say?"
I walked over to the window and looked down.
Ryan was standing next to Emma, holding a black umbrella.
Most of the umbrella was tilted toward Emma, shielding her.
Rainwater streamed down Ryan's shoulders, but he didn't move an inch.
Emma lifted her face, shoulders shaking as she cried.
Ryan leaned in to wipe her tears, so practiced it instantly reminded me of years ago.
Back when I had a fever, he'd sit by my bed just like this, gently wiping my forehead with a damp towel.
Grace whispered, "Did he used to take care of you like that?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"So now he's..." Grace trailed off.
"It's pretty clear now," I said.
Downstairs, they noticed me standing at the window.
Emma quickly pulled her hand away from Ryan and stepped back. "Sophie, please don't get the wrong idea."
Her voice was ragged from crying. "There's really nothing between me and Ryan."
Ryan looked up at me.
His eyes were still striking, sharp brows, straight nose, wet black hair plastered to his forehead, like the boy who used to sneak over the school wall to bring me an umbrella back in high school.
He always knew he was attractive, and exactly how to look at someone to make them go soft.
"Come down. Let's talk," he said.
"There's nothing to talk about," I replied.
"What about the procedure?" he asked.
"It's tomorrow," I said.
Emma whipped around. "You're really going through with it?"
She sounded genuinely shocked, like she never thought I'd decide so fast.
I looked down at her from the third-floor window. "What does this have to do with you?"
"Of course it does," Emma replied.
Her eyes were red and swollen. "If it weren't for me, you two wouldn't be fighting, and the baby wouldn't..."
"The baby isn't here because of you," I cut her off.
"But Ryan said he was really looking forward to it," Emma said.
I looked at Ryan. "Did you say that?"
He pressed his lips together, not answering.
Emma suddenly realized she'd messed up and hurried to explain, "He just said that if we ever had a kid, it would be a really happy thing."
"If we ever had a kid?" I laughed. "So he's excited for someday, not for now."
Ryan finally spoke, "Sophie, don't talk about this up here."
"Afraid people will hear?" I shot back.
"I'm worried you'll get worked up," he said.
"Wow, you really care about me," I said.
His brow furrowed. "Just come down."
"You come up," I replied.
"Guys aren't allowed in the dorms," he said.
"Then just stay down there," I shot back.
The rain kept pouring, and Emma bit her lip as she looked at him. "Ryan, maybe you should just go home."
"I'm not leaving," he replied.
"But Sophie doesn't want to see you right now," Emma said.
Ryan ignored her, still staring at me. "I'll wait for you."
I closed the window and drew the curtains.
Grace looked at me. "You're really not going down?"
"If he wants to wait, let him," I said.
"Emma's still down there," Grace said.
"She can leave too," I replied.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was the Class Chat.
The counselor sent a message, reminding everyone to keep their emotions in check and not do anything drastic because of relationship drama.
No names were mentioned.
But everyone knew who it was about.
Right after, Emma sent a message in the group: [Thanks for your concern, Professor. I'll take care of myself, and I hope some people won't bring their personal drama to school.]
The group flooded with comforting replies.
Ryan didn't stop her.
I stared at that message for a few seconds, then took a screenshot.
Grace was so mad she nearly threw her phone. "Now she's playing the victim?"
"That's exactly what she wants," I said.
"You're not going to explain?" Grace asked.
"If I explain now, people will just think I'm desperate to clear my name," I said.
"So when will you explain?" Grace pressed.
I closed my laptop. "I'll wait until they've said everything they want to say."