Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sienna
I couldn’t sleep,which was nothing new for me. The only times I could sleep were the nights I’d take a sleeping tablet. But that was now no longer an option for me. I shifted onto my back and placed a palm over my belly. It was surreal to think about a life growing inside me.
I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had happened the last few weeks, trying to make sense of it. My life was spinning out of control, and I had no idea where my future was headed. I was scared, and I had never felt this alone in my life. Not even when my mom died, when everyone in our family mourned her, each one too caught up in our own pain to reach out and support each other.
I rolled onto my side and pulled my knees to my chest, hugging them. There were options. Raising a child alone wasn’t my only one. I could choose to abort and continue living like this never happened. I could pretend like being with Noah didn’t change my whole life. In ten years, I might be married with a child who had a father who loved us enough to stay. Then, Noah would be nothing more than a blip in my past. A temporary hurdle I’d eventually get over.
No one would ever know about this pregnancy.
Only me. I would know. And odds were it would haunt me for the rest of my life. This wasn’t a simple decision to make. This was a baby. A life. A heartbeat.
Or, there was adoption. I would have the chance to turn the mistake I made into someone else’s blessing. Some loving couple who couldn’t have a child of their own would give this baby a life I probably never could as a single, young mother. And while the adopted parents would love this child, tuck him or her in every night, wipe every tear and appreciate each laugh, I’d be somewhere in the world loving this child from afar. Wondering what he or she looked like. If it was a boy, would he have Noah’s blue eyes? If it was a girl, would she have my red curls? I’d constantly wonder if my child was okay, if I had chosen the right parents. If my baby was living the life he deserved.
Him.
A boy.
Noah’s boy.
Would I be able to live with myself if I knew someone else was raising the child Noah and I had made?
No. The thought didn’t feel right at all. I’d be a fool to think I’d be able to give my baby away, and even more foolish if I thought abortion was an option.
Slipping my hand down my stomach, I clutched the fabric of the oversized T-shirt I wore. Thinking I had any other option than to raise this child was pointless. I made a mistake by falling for the wrong man, and now I had no choice but to live with it. Whether I chose to terminate the pregnancy, give up the baby, or be a single mother—there was no getting away from the consequences.
This was my mess, and I needed to own it.
A tear slipped down the side of my face. My father would be shocked and disappointed. He’d be ashamed of me. Blame me for giving the town something else to gossip about. But none of that would matter because I’d have a child to take care of, whether my father disowned me or not.
I was surprised that I wasn’t bawling my eyes out. But I have cried so many tears since Noah left, I didn’t think there was much left in me to cry.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. One thing was abundantly clear. I wouldn’t be able to do this on my own. I had to tell someone. Someone who wouldn’t judge me or try to make decisions for me.
With a sigh, I got out of bed just as the clock on my nightstand switched to four a.m. The early morning autumn chill wrapped around my legs as I walked out of my room and down the hall. My heart raced, and my stomach turned, knowing I was about to voice my secret. But I had to. There was no way I’d be able to carry this burden on my own.
Careful not to make any noise, I slowly turned the doorknob, creaking open the door. “You awake?” I whispered into the dark.
“I am now.”
“You alone?”
“Unfortunately.”
I quietly closed the door behind me. My eyes adjusted to the dark as I sauntered across the room, lifting the sheets and slipped into the bed, the mattress cozy and warm.
“What’s wrong?” He asked with his back toward me.
I shifted closer. “What makes you think something is wrong?”
“The last time you snuck into my room was when you were nine, telling me you scratched dad’s Audi with your bicycle.”
“Oh my God. I remember that.” I smiled. “I was so scared. I had no idea who to tell.”
“Yeah. So you climbed into my bed so you could share your little secret with me.”
“You took the fall for me, telling Dad it was you.”