Page 45 of Losing Faith

“Howwas I supposed to know that?”

I stifle a laugh as I smooth out her long dark hair. “Assuming you had the money to pay your rent yesterday, you now have less than two hundred dollars in your bank account. You still live with a roommate whom you have a very toxic relationship with and the man who got you pregnant didn’t even give you money for the Plan B and then left you.”

She looks up at me, her eyes torn, but I can see the understanding in them.

“Anything is possible so, yes, you could have raised that baby but at what cost? You know you’re not mentally stable to raise a baby. And postpartum? Ugh.” I shake my head at the thoughts. “Motherhood seems like a shit show.”

“Maybe that’s why your mom left you.” She smiles up at me and my jaw drops before I break into a laugh.

“Too soon.” I shove her off my lap and she laughs harder in return.

When our laughs sober, we both lean back on my couch before she speaks up. “Maybe a baby would’ve made me get my life together. Give me something to live for and shit.”

I rest my head on her lap this time. “Key word being maybe.”

She looks down at me.

“I think you’re going to be an amazing mom one day, but what if you didn’t get your life together?”

“I would’ve.” She shakes her head at herself before a tear spills from her eyes.

Reaching up, I wipe her freckled cheek. I take hold of her hand before squeezing it. “Your hormones are all fucked up,” I remind her. “You sat with your options and thought very hard about the choice you made. You can’t change the choice you made, but you can change what you do now to make sure you’re not in that position again. Our actions are only mistakes if we don’t learn from them. Don’t let the abortion be a mistake. Get your shit together so you can be a good mom.”

She nods in return before wiping her cheek. “You give great advice when you’re drunk.”

I roll my eyes at her as I push her hand away. “I’m tipsy,” I counter.

“And you’ve been tipsy sincelast weekwhen you found out your bio mom was sober for half your childhood.”

I pull in a deep breath as I sit up. A very small part of me is proud I’ve been able to avoid my family long enough for them not to notice, but I quickly feel like shit for making up lies and avoiding my brother.

“I just needed some time to sit in it.” I turn to her now. “I’m done feeling like this. Why do you think I called you today and told you?”

She watches me carefully as I continue to convince her that I’m fine.

“I’m going to go to a meeting tomorrow and I’ll be back on track.”

She nods in return before my phone starts ringing. I lean over her, and when I see it’s Jackson calling, I bring my phone to my ear.

“What do you want, Jackson Jones? I’m trying to plead my innocence here.”

His deep laugh sounds through the other end and it surprisingly makes me feel a little better. “Nice hearing from you, too, Lissy,” he replies and I roll my eyes at him.

“How many times am I going to tell you, only your kid can call me that?”

“I still don’t get why the nickname is exclusive to her.”

I don’t answer but he goes on as if he wasn’t expecting me to.

“Who are you pleading your innocence to? And please don’t tell me it’s a cop.” He sounds exhausted and I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s not but don’t worry. My mom is the DA, so I think I’ll be okay.”

He chuckles on the other end. “I’m just calling to let you know you don’t have to come over for tutoring today. We’re going out.”

“What?What do you mean?”

“Is that an issue?” He sounds confused now.

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