Not Sorry

“I’m so sorry, Sean,” Olive says before she pushes past me, leaving me feeling completely empty.

My heart is broken. And I have no idea how to put it back together.

22

Olive

I quit.

I’d been calling in sick all week long, and tonight, I finally quit. Jamie invited me over to her house to get some maternity clothes that she said were too small for her, although I can’t imagine them ever fitting me. And I told her that I was quitting.

She was sad but understood. I told her I was moving in with Owen, but I’m not sure she bought that. Honestly, I haven’t even talked to Owen yet. I’ve been completely avoiding it like the plague.

Jamie wanted me to stay and talk about it, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t handle the thought that Sean could come over to her place at any moment or text or call her. Jamie was clearly back to her happy and bubbly self, so I’m guessing that she and Sean are back together.

I take a brownie from the tray I made earlier today and take a seat on my bed to eat it. Other than talking to Jamie, the only thing

I’ve accomplished all week is baking and then eating everything that I baked. At this rate, I’ll gain a hundred pounds in a month.

That can’t be good for the baby. I should start making some avocado brownies or something, so at least, I will be getting something other than sugar into me.

I sigh.

I’m pregnant, I think, looking down at my stomach.

It’s something I’ve always said I wanted but not this way with a man I hate. Although I’ve always wanted to be a mother, thinking about the fact that it is actually happening right now scares me to death.

Because, right now, if you asked me if I wanted a baby, the answer would be no. And that is a horrible thought.

I need to do something. Plan my life. Maybe then I’ll feel better. If I have a plan for my life. A job. I need to find a new job ASAP if I don’t want to end up back on the street.

It’s too big to figure out right now. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have my real estate license. Maybe I could find a job with a new company or start my own. I have skills now. I’ll find something to do.

There is something I need to do that I’ve been putting off all week. I need to tell Owen. He deserves to know. As much as I never want to see him again, I no longer have that choice.

I finish my brownie. Then, I get out of bed and get an Uber to Owen’s apartment.

I’ve paced in front of Owen’s door a dozen times now. I’ve lifted my hand several times to knock, but I’ve come short every single time.

Sean was wrong. He used to tell me that he thought I was brave and strong. But I don’t have a brave or strong bone in my body right now.

I stand in front of Owen’s door again. I raise my hand, and then the door suddenly opens.

“What the hell are you doing, Olive? I’m about to call the police,” Owen says.

“I’m sor—” But I stop myself before I apologize because I’m not sorry. Not at all. “Can I come in?”

Owen raises an eyebrow. “Why would I let you in after you destroyed my property last time?”

I fold my arms across my chest. “We need to talk. So, either let me in or go to a coffee shop or something with me so that we can talk.”

“I have nothing else to say to you,” Owen says, trying to shut the door in my face.

“I’m pregnant!” I shout at the last minute.

The door slowly creeps back open, and Owen stares at me with narrow eyes. “And how is this my problem?”

I close my eyes, trying to remain calm and be the bigger person. “Because I thought you might want to know that it’s yours.”