Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Leah
"Put it down! Harper, my fingers are going numb!"
"Turn left! Leah, are you even trying?"
The old fabric sofa crashed onto the dusty hardwood floor, sending up a choking cloud of dust.
I gasped for air, shaking out my throbbing fingers. Harper kicked the armrest without hesitation, letting out a loud curse.
"Hauling a couch up to the fourth floor!" She straightened up, tugging at her T-shirt collar to fan herself. "And no goddamn elevator! I think you're trying to kill me."
I caught my breath and walked to the barely functional kitchen counter, pouring water and handing it to her.
"Here's your reward. Without you today, I'd probably still be moving stuff at midnight."
Harper gulped down most of the paper cup in one go, then set it aside carelessly.
"We don't need this sentimental crap between us." She dropped onto the couch we'd just hauled up, patting the empty spot beside her.
But as soon as she sat down, her easy expression tightened. Her face turned serious.
"Just because you moved doesn't mean you can let your guard down, Leah. That bastard Trent hasn't given up."
At the mention of his name, I froze mid-sip.
"What'd he do now?" I asked.
"He's been calling me non-stop these past few days.
" Harper wrinkled her nose and mimicked Trent's tone in a nasally voice.
"'Harper, I know I messed up, can you talk to Leah for me, I can't live without her'—made my skin crawl.
Endless apologies, and fishing around trying to find out where you moved. "
"You didn't tell him, right?"
"I'd have to be brain-dead to tell him." Harper snorted. "I've had a bad feeling about him from day one. I told you to stay away from that psycho."
"Queen Harper is always right." I looked down, managing a bitter smile as I sat beside her on the couch. "You were right from the start. I was too stupid, fell for his cheap lines and fake concern, walked straight into the trap he set for me."
"At least you can see it now." Harper pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.
"I've already blocked this number completely.
But that bastard's like a sewer rat—could crawl out of any drain at any time.
We moved, but we're still not that far from the old place.
You need to be careful when you go out."
"I promise." I took a deep breath. "If I see even a shadow of Trent Mercer on the street, I'll turn around and run. He's the last person on earth I want to see."
Harper let out a long breath, waving her hand as if swatting away bad air.
"Alright, enough about that trash. Tell me about your new job. Two weeks in—how's the coffee shop gig? Is old Mike working you to death?"
I stood up. Still plenty to do.
I grabbed some books and started shoving them onto the cheap bookshelf, answering Harper's question as I worked.
"Actually, it's not bad. Old Mike's decent. He complains about coffee bean prices going up, but he never touches my tips. The regulars are pretty well-behaved, mostly college kids with laptops who camp out all morning. Hardly anyone causes trouble."
"Sounds like a good place for a fresh start." Harper nodded, but her eyes stayed on me. Suddenly she squinted, leaning closer with suspicion. "Wait, why do you look so rough? Have you been pulling all-nighters?"
I was shoving the last book onto the shelf when a wave of dizziness hit. I fought down the acid rising in my throat.
"Opposite. I've been sleeping constantly." I took a deep breath, pushing down the nausea. "But the last few days... my body's been acting weird."
Harper's casual expression vanished instantly. She sat up straight, tense.
"Weird how? Fever? Cold?"
"Hard to say." I rubbed my throbbing temples, trying to sort through the awful physical sensations. "Just nauseous. This morning when I smelled the coffee beans grinding, I almost threw up right in front of a customer. I've been puking randomly for days now."
I sighed, turning to lean against the bookshelf.
"I figure I should probably go to a hospital. Make sure nothing's seriously wrong."
Harper didn't respond. She looked me up and down.
"Fatigue and vomiting?" She frowned, like she was chewing on the words. "That doesn't sound good."
She stared at me for several seconds, her frown deepening. Suddenly, she jerked.
"Leah," her voice dropped low, "is your period regular?"
My hand, reaching for the next stack of books, froze mid-air.
In that second, my mind raced through the calendar. When was the last time?
It was... two months ago. This month, nothing. But I'd been so consumed with the loan sharks and moving that I hadn't even thought about it.
"No way." Harper swallowed the terrible word herself, her face full of disbelief. "That's impossible, right? You and Trent haven't been together in forever. You couldn't be..."
Panic shot up my spine.
But it was impossible.
Trent and I were done, and besides, he had his own issues. The only sex I'd had recently was that one night at the club—that dangerous man in the dim VIP room whose name I never even got.
Just that one time. What were the odds?
So I forced a laugh, putting on an expression of absurdity.
"What are you talking about?" I turned away, randomly rearranging things on the shelf, trying to sound casual. "My cycle's always been irregular. Off by ten days, two weeks—that's normal for me. It's nothing."
But Harper, who'd always acted like my big sister because she was six months older, wouldn't let me brush this off.
"Irregular?" She jumped up, grabbed her jacket from the chair, and bolted for the door. "Well, we're not taking chances until we know for sure! Stay right here. Don't go anywhere!"
"Harper—"
The door slammed behind her.
Harper moved fast. Twenty minutes later, she stormed back in like a hurricane, clutching a pharmacy bag.
She marched over and pulled out a pregnancy test, slapping it hard onto the coffee table.
"Test." Her face was stern, her eyes allowing no argument. "Now. Right now. This second."
"Harper, seriously?" I tried to laugh it off. "I'm telling you, I just ate something bad. It was definitely that discount burrito yesterday..."
"Leah Carter." She didn't listen to a word, grabbing my arm and shoving me—box and all—toward the bathroom.
"Stop bullshitting me. Get in there. I'll wait right outside, and you're not coming out until we have an answer."
"I might not even be able to pee!" I clung to the doorframe, refusing to face that answer.
"I don't mind if you drink some toilet water!"
SLAM! The bathroom door locked behind me, cutting off Harper's nagging completely.
I leaned against the door, staring at the glaring package on the sink.
Even though I prayed ten thousand times this was just a ridiculous mistake, I picked up that thin stick and went through the motions.
If I didn't, Harper would never let it go.
Procedure complete, I flipped the test stick face-down on the sink and tried to empty my mind.
Those few minutes of waiting felt more torturous than any disaster I'd ever lived through. I pressed against the cold tiles, listening to Harper pace outside, one step after another, like a countdown clock ticking on my nerves.
"Done yet?" She pounded on the door.
"Not yet."
"Now?"
"Harper, time's not up!" I snapped, frustrated, raking my hand through my hair.
Soon, my phone alarm finally went off. I sucked in a cold breath, hands trembling as I turned the stick over.
The instant I saw it, a desperate whimper escaped me.
"Harper!"
The handle twisted immediately. Harper burst through the door.
On the sink, two red lines. Clear as day. No room for interpretation.
I clutched the test stick, frozen in place, my mind roaring blank.
Harper leaned in, staring at the thing, also speechless for a long moment. In the tiny bathroom, only the drip-drip of a leaky pipe broke the silence.
"Red." Harper finally found her voice, sounding unsteady. "That's two lines, right? I'm not seeing things?"
"Yes." I heard myself repeat dully.
Then Harper snapped into action, gripping my shoulders hard.
"Listen to me," Harper suddenly straightened, "get rid of it. This baby has to go, you hear me? We can't keep anything from a scumbag like Trent. You absolutely cannot chain yourself to that asshole for the rest of your life because of a kid!"
"Harper." I cut her off. "It's not his."
She froze, her grip on my shoulders loosening.
"What?"
"Trent... he's infertile." I turned away.
This was Trent's deepest secret, his greatest humiliation. He'd only let it slip when he was drunk, and afterward he begged me repeatedly never to tell anyone.
I never had—until now.
"He couldn't get anyone pregnant. So this definitely isn't his."
"Infertile? Ha! Thank God," Harper looked stunned by this news. "But are you sure?"
"No doubt. He admitted it himself." I smiled bitterly.
Hard to believe I'd actually felt sad when I first heard that.
Harper's relief lasted exactly two seconds before her expression froze again.
She stared at me in disbelief.
"Wait... if it's not Trent's, then whose is it?"
I couldn't meet her eyes.
"I don't know..." The moment I said it, shame burned my face. "Just once. I don't know his name, much less where to find him."
That wasn't entirely true.
That face, those eyes—I couldn't forget them. But what did it matter? I didn't even know his name.
Harper stood there, mouth open, unable to speak for a full minute.
"So, do you want to keep it?" Harper asked softly.
"No." It came out almost automatically.
Hearing that answer, Harper's tight shoulders finally relaxed. She let out a long breath.
"Thank God you haven't completely lost it. That's the rational choice, Leah. We're flat broke, you just escaped debt, we don't even have next month's rent figured out. This is absolutely not the time for a baby."
She pulled out her phone smoothly, fingers flying across the screen.
"I'm calling in sick for you right now. I know a clinic we can trust—come on, I'll go with you. Let's get this done today. The sooner the better. Can't let this drag out."
Harper had always been a woman of action. She pulled me out of the bathroom, yanked my denim jacket off the door hook, and threw it over my shoulders, giving me no time to think.
On the way to the clinic, I walked mechanically behind Harper.
She strode ahead, making calls, arranging my sick day in three sentences flat, then rattling off the clinic's address.
New York's early autumn wind hit my face. The smell of street hot dog carts, the honking of cars—it all blurred together.
I walked through the bustling crowd, my mind a tangled mess.
I kept repeating to myself: This is rational. This is the only way out.
But somehow, my steps grew heavier and heavier.
Finally, I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Leah?" Harper walked several more steps before realizing I wasn't behind her. She turned back, urging me on. "What are you doing? Move it, we're going to miss the appointment."
I looked down at my still-flat stomach, my hand unconsciously covering it.
After my parents' divorce, they each built perfect new families.
I became the most awkward, most unwanted person in both households.
In their cheerful new homes, there was never a place for me.
All my life, I'd never truly belonged to anyone, and no one had ever truly belonged to me.
I was just a drifting orphan.
But now it was different. Inside me, there was a tiny life. It needed me. In this whole world, it was my only family.
"No, Harper. I want to keep the baby."
Harper's eyebrows knotted into a tight knot. She strode back, staring at me in disbelief.
"What did you say?"
"I want to keep this baby." I sniffled, clutching my stomach protectively, tears welling in my eyes, but I tried to make my voice sound firm. "I need it, Harper."
"Leah Carter, have you lost your goddamn mind!" Harper grabbed my arm, hissing in a low, furious voice. "Wake up! You don't even know who the father is! You don't have a dime saved! You're scraping by for next month's rent!"
"I know all that." I cut her off. "I know how hard this will be, but this is my only family!"
Harper's grip on my hand stopped.
She paused for several seconds, something soft flickering in her eyes, quickly crushed by harsh rationality.
"Then what are you going to raise them with?" Harper's eyes bore into me sharply. "What are you going to buy formula with? Pay for school? Give them a home? You want them to be born into your life—hiding, scraping, barely getting a decent meal?"
Every word she said humiliated me.
But it was all brutal truth. I couldn't argue a single point.
"You never listen to me! You keep making a disaster of your life!" Harper's eyes reddened, her chest heaving violently. Finally, she jerked her arm away from mine.
"If you insist on having them, then you're on your own!"
Harper turned and walked away fast, leaving me behind.
I knew I'd made Harper furious again. I knew she truly wanted what was best for me.
That small spark of courage I'd felt instantly drowned under reality's cold water.
Harper was right. I had nothing. I couldn't even support myself. What did I have to raise a child with?
I crouched down, lost, not knowing what to do.
But then those familiar footsteps that had walked away suddenly returned, stopping right in front of me.
Harper, eyes red, rushed back and, without a word, pulled me into a tight hug.
"You hopeless idiot." She held me tight, voice thick with tears even as she cursed. "I can't leave you alone. I have no goddamn way of dealing with you!"
"Keep it. Even without a father, at least they'll have two mothers."
"Harper..."
I couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around Harper's shoulders and cried.
I believed that in this huge city, as long as I had her and the baby, I'd never be alone again.
As I cried, I thought I saw a figure watching us from a nearby street corner.
But when I lifted my head from Harper's shoulder and looked again, there was nothing—just the bustling crowd and a flickering streetlight.
Probably just my tears blurring my vision.
That's what I told myself.