Chapter Eleven #3
“Because I opened them early, when the house was still relatively cool. The wood swells in the heat.”
“Right.” He polished off the rest of the water, then handed her the empty bottle. “I’m going to get a shower.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He paused, his gaze flicking to her face. “That okay?”
“Oh, sure.” She pasted on a smile. “I’ll wait till you’re done.”
“If you want to go first—”
“No, you go ahead,” she said hurriedly, keeping the smile in place. “I’m just going to, ah, call my mom. She texted me, so I’m going to call her back.”
Still eyeing her curiously, he nodded. “Okay. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” she chirped, and kept smiling until he’d disappeared down the hall. Then she opened her water and drank the whole bottle where she stood.
“Get yourself together, Bailey,” she muttered when she’d finished, and crossing to the sofa, pulled out her phone.
Chloe had sent an update to the group chat about an hour ago, and Bailey re-read it.
Scheduled procedure in Ann Arbor for Monday—medication, not surgical. Jesse and Knox both coming with. Will stay overnight Monday, home on Tuesday.
Gwen had replied. How are you feeling?
Relieved, was Chloe’s reply. Loved.
You are loved, Bailey replied now. Call me tomorrow, okay?
She set her phone aside, not expecting a reply and, toeing off her shoes, curled her feet under her. The water turned on in the bathroom, and with the faint drumming filling her ears, she let herself drift.
Chloe was lucky to have gotten an appointment so quickly, lucky she’d be able to manage the abortion with medication and avoid a surgical procedure.
Her own recovery hadn’t been bad—mostly like a really shitty period—but surgery increased the likelihood of complications, and she was glad her friend could avoid that.
And she was glad the boyfriends had stepped up.
She hadn’t really expected otherwise—they loved Chloe, and the three of them were unquestionably committed to one another—but an unintended pregnancy could throw a seemingly stable, supportive relationship into chaos.
And abortion was still a controversial choice for many.
She didn’t often think about how lucky she’d been that, when the two little lines had shown up on that dollar store test, Nash had been nothing but supportive of her choice to terminate the pregnancy.
She knew women—in college and since—who hadn’t been so lucky, who’d had to go through the stress and anxiety of accessing care all by themselves.
Or, worse, who’d been tricked or guilted or straight up forced to carry an unwanted pregnancy to term.
Braxton didn’t have an abortion clinic, and although the Ohio state constitution protected access to abortion, politicians continued to try to restrict access.
They passed bills that forced women to listen to anti-choice propaganda disguised as medical information.
There were medically unnecessary waiting periods, restrictions on who could dispense abortion medication and how, laws designed specifically to put as many barriers between women and affordable, science-based care.
And then there were the protestors.
They’d been stacked three deep across the street at the clinic in Illinois, waving signs with bible verses and pictures of babies, shouting ‘murderer’ and worse.
It had pissed her off so much that she’d wanted to fight them.
Nash had held her back, reminding that she’d miss her appointment if she took time out to kick anti-choice ass.
So she’d kept walking into the clinic, shielded by Nash and the clinic escort in the bullet proof vest from the hate being spewed.
Her heart ached that Chloe might have to go through that, but she’d have Jesse and Knox to protect her. As she’d had Nash.
She’d never told him how grateful she was—how much she’d loved him for that. Oh, she’d loved him before, with the enthusiasm and purity of youth. But it had been innocent, and in some ways painfully na?ve.
The unplanned pregnancy could’ve killed that innocent, na?ve love. Instead it had solidified it, strengthened it into something deeper and stronger, and for that alone she knew she’d never love anyone the way she’d loved Nash.
Which is one of the reasons why, she thought with an ache tightening her chest, it hurt so much when it shattered.
The water cut off, jerking her out of her thoughts and propelling her off the sofa. It was early, and she’d planned to watch a movie before bed, but she was suddenly exhausted. She wanted a shower, and to sleep, and not think about painful things that couldn’t be changed.
So she went upstairs, grateful the bathroom door remained closed when she passed.
She showered and dressed for bed, focusing on mundane things like her schedule for the following day, and the overflowing laundry hamper in the corner that she would need to deal with shortly.
And when she was sure Nash had gone to bed, she crept back downstairs.
She turned off the lamp he’d left on for her, set her phone on the charger, then lay down and prayed for oblivion.