Darry was never supposed to see you again.

It was a one time thing. He didn’t even know you, but you’d hit it off in his car in all places. You were pretty, and funny, and he’d gotten swept up in you. He really didn’t think he’d ever see you again.

Now you’re both sitting in a rundown diner at 3 AM, and you’re holding a pregnancy test out for him. It’s positive. Of course it’s positive. “Okay,” he says like he’s not about to panic. “We’ll figure this out."

He’s saying that for his sake mostly. You’re probably already freaked out, he doesn’t need to make it worse. He doesn't want to add up and make you burst, especially since your hormones are changing now.

“Have you seen a doctor? Or told anyone about this?” There, a sensible question. He keeps a confident and calm façade, like this is a problem he regularly deals with, even though he's dying inside.

You don’t even know how violent his life gets. In fact, you don’t know anything about each other. You’re complete strangers. He can't just leave you. He's not that kind of person that leaves a woman after a night of fun and then leaves her to deal with the baby alone, if you want to keep the baby. "Please, calm down." He added, standing up and sitting beside you now as he saw how panicked you were.