Page 79 of Small Town Sizzle

With a sigh, I glance at my nightstand, where Megan’s journals sit neatly stacked. Reading them last time, I was so overwhelmed by everything going on that I had to stop reading them. I haven’t opened all of them, but they feel like they’re calling to me right now. I know that whatever I find in there, I have an amazing support system to help me through it. I also feel clear-headed for the first time in a very long time, like I can move mountains with Garrett beside me.

I grab the first journal, the navy blue one, and settle onto my bed.

My phone vibrates, and I glance down to see a text from Garrett.

“This made me think of you.”

He attached a meme asking if people actually wear pajamas to bed, because he had told me last night that he normally does, and I don’t. I smile at my phone before putting it away without replying.

No distractions. I need to go through these finally before I lose my nerve.

I can feel the leather journal in my hand, and I turn my attention back to it. Opening it, I flip through the pages until I land on the last one I read. The next entry catches my eye. Megan’s handwriting, neat but a little rushed, fills the page.

July 28

I don’t even know where to start. I’ve been staring at this test for an hour, trying to convince myself that it’s broken or that I’m hallucinating. But it’s real. I’m pregnant. Oh, God. Just writing it down makes it more real. I’m pregnant.

I should be happy, right? Excited, even? But all I feel is fear. I can’t stop shaking. How am I supposed to do this? How amI supposed to bring a baby into this world when I can barely keep my own life together?

And then there’s him. I don’t even know if I should tell him. What would he say? Would he even care? Or would he look at me like I’m a problem he doesn’t know how to solve?

I ended things with him because he didn’t want a relationship, because he couldn’t keep his life together. Because neither of us can quit our addictions with the other around. We’re fire and gasoline together. He’s so angry. He only cares about partying and nothing else. He’s not ready to raise a child and it’s not fair to do that to any of us. Right?

Neither of us are ready to raise it, and I’m contemplating dropping this baby off on Maya’s doorstep. She and Carson would be great parents, they have their life together and I don’t. I’m not sure that I ever will.

I pause, my fingers brushing over the words. My chest tightens, and I take a deep breath before flipping to the next entry. The realization that my sister knew who Alex’s father was and chose to lie about it to all of us, especially to me, hurts badly. I thought the two of us told each other everything.

Tears fill my eyes. She must’ve been so scared, felt so alone. She struggled with her addictions so much. Did she go back to this man after Alex was born, and that’s why it took her so long to get clean? Did this man ever get clean?

I close my eyes and blow out a long breath. I need to keep reading, because even if she doesn’t share anymore secrets, I still feel closer to my sister than I have in forever. I can almost hear her voice in my head speaking the words as I read them.

August 10th

I thought about telling him today. I even went to his place. But I knew I couldn’t do it the second I saw him. He looked so… angry. He always looks angry these days. And the smell of whiskey hit me before I even walked through the door.

He said he was sober. He promised. But there he was, sitting in his chair with a glass in his hand, muttering about how unfair the world is. He was so strung out. I could see the residue on the coffee table, and it took everything in me not to drop to my knees and take a hit. Doing so would mean I wouldn’t have to be making these hard decisions, mean that I wouldn’t feel like the world is closing in on me for at least a short period of time.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t endanger this child. He doesn’t deserve to suffer for my shortcomings, for my addictions, for my failures. He deserves a life well-lived, not to be born with an addiction already in his blood.

I couldn’t tell him that I was carrying his child when he couldn’t even take care of himself. When I can’t take care of the three of us simultaneously.

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know. I don’t want my baby to grow up around that kind of anger, that kind of instability. They deserve better. I deserve better.

If he knew that I was going to give my baby to Maya, he wouldn’t let it happen. His mother, his family, they wouldn’t let it happen either. Maya and Carson can raise him better than anyone could. If I tell everyone that I don’t know who the father is, my child will thrive because of it. That’s all that matters.

The pages blur for a moment as I blink back tears. My sister was my best friend, and we told each other everything. She was so scared, and I had no clue. She was contemplating giving her child to me to raise back then. I wonder what changed.

I knew Megan had been through a lot, but seeing it laid out like this is something else entirely. I turn the page, desperate for more, for answers.

August 22nd

He’s been texting me, begging for forgiveness. He’s telling me how much he needs me and misses me. He swore that he’dquit drinking, that he wasn’t partying anymore. I wanted to believe him so badly. Honestly, though, I don’t believe him. I think he only misses me because I’m familiar, because I remind him of home, and he can keep tabs on his family through me, as well. For so long, I felt special when he showed me attention. I went back today, knowing all of that. I thought maybe this time would be different. I thought maybe he’d be different. I hoped anyway. But it was the same. The same anger, the same bitterness, the same whiskey, the same drugs.

I don’t know why I keep hoping for something else. I don’t know why I keep thinking he’ll change. He hasn’t changed for himself—why would he change for me or our child?

I have to let go of this idea that he’ll be the man I need him to be. He’s not. And that’s okay. I can do this on my own. I have to do this on my own.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart aching for her. Megan was always so strong, but I can see the cracks here, the way she was trying so hard to hold it all together.

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