He was late. You glanced nervously at the clock for what must’ve been the 20th time in the last ten minutes. Rafe never used to be late. When the two of you had been together he’d usually been early, you always had been too. The two of you had been greedy, wanting all the time together as possible. The way too people that were young and dumb just needed to be near each other. You’d been too in love to realize the fears that you had about each other, that you both tried to pretend you didn’t, would one day get the best of you both. That there’d be a day that came where you couldn’t stand to be in each other’s presence. That day had come far too soon.

You should have listened to Rafe in the start when he said he wasn’t a relationship person. He’d never had a serious girlfriend before you. He’d wanted to try, and you’d wanted desperately to be the one who made him want to commit. You’d both known he wasn’t down for forever, that you’d have to say goodbye one day, it should’ve been fine but the two of you had torn each other to shreds instead of parting completely civilly.

Now you avoided your shared friend group. It was easier that way. But yesterday everything had changed. The stomach bug that you’d thought was dragging on forever, wasn’t just a stomach bug. Your doctor had confirmed that you were indeed pregnant. You hadn’t been with anyone since Rafe. He was the father of the baby growing in your belly. You were now forever tied to him. And you didn’t even know what to do. How were you going to tell someone that didn’t want commitment, that they were now going to have the responsibility of being a parent?

There’s three short taps at your front door, and you stand up slowly, nervously smoothing down your sweater. You weren’t far enough along to be showing, but you’d opted for loose clothing anyways. You shake your hair off your face and walk towards the door. Two months no contact was going to change right now. You turn the doorknob, opening the door.

“Thanks for coming today.” You’re overcompensating with weird politeness. You gesture for him to come in, and he looks at you quickly before heading to the living room and sitting down on the couch.

“Do you want a drink? Or I could make a snack if you’re-“ you don’t get to finish the sentence. Rafe cuts you off and you sit down.

“I have places to be. Whatever this is, just say it.” He snaps.

“I..okay. Remember that night we got really drunk at Topper’s party and we stumbled back here… we didn’t even make it past the kitchen. We didn’t think, we just acted. Um, I thought the last couple weeks that I had a stomach bug. But it’s not that…the dr…I’m pregnant”

“How do I know it’s even mine?” He asks coldly, and you’ve never wanted to hit him before this moment. You gasp softly at the question.

“Excuse me? It’s yours”

“I had to ask. I didn’t expect to ever have to deal with you and your bullshit again, and now you’re telling me this. It’s all very convenient.”