"Can you get here in time or not?" Nancy asked, her voice hoarse and raw. I wished I could have seen her face but I didn't need to in order to know for certain she was crying. 

"Yes. I can," I answered, putting her on speaker to pull up the address she sent through text message. I read it over again. My stomach was in knots. "This is the hospital. Are you okay? Is everyone okay?" 

I thought of Adonis and how help was too late for him. I thought of the anonymous caller who spoke with me a few days ago, telling me that their job was to protect me. It was implied that I needed protection. What about the rest of my family? What if one of them was attacked and didn't have someone to call and warn them? I couldn't bear the thought of losing someone else so soon. It would suffocate me, tear me into a million tiny unrepairable pieces. 

"Yes, everything is fine," she said. She didn't elaborate which made it unconvincing to say the least. She could have been omitting information to keep me calm enough on the way over. For all I knew my aunt was in critical condition or Julio was being strolled down into the morgue with a white sheet covering his body. 

I reminded myself to breathe. Focus. 

 "I just want you here with me," Nancy added. "Please. I'll explain when you're here." 

I looked at the set up I had going on. My laptop sat on the coffee table, five different tabs tactfully organized for maximum speed in clicking through each of them. My cup of coffee was in a comically large mug with steam radiating from the top. My blue ballpoint pen and highlights were lined on the left side of the laptop with my mouse on the right. I had actually managed to get things done with the storm of thoughts brewing at the back of my mind. I had gotten into a pretty good groove of reading and marking up the manuscript. My focus was trained on the task at hand so the sounds of the coffee shop had been reduced to white noise. 

One of those thoughts trying to penetrate my tower of focus was about Vincent's text messages urging me to learn self defense. I understood I was in danger from the second I received the anonymous call but Vincent's suggestion made it more real. If someone as knowledgeable as he was in the field was telling me to prepare myself, it meant I should. It meant that the training had a good chance of coming in handy. 

I tried to imagine myself throwing punches. Innocent, helpless Mickey putting someone in a headlock. I knew the thought of it would humour everyone that knew me but the idea of it alit something in me. My knuckles beating into a heavy bag would feel a lot like taking power back. The bruises on my skin would distract me from the blood forever staining my palms. 

I realized that even if I were to ignore my sister's request - which I wouldn't - the groove I had got into with my work would be lost. There was not a chance I would focus after hearing her distressed. Not when I had opened the gates to a whirlwind of thoughts I was suppressing, procrastinating on facing. 

I slammed my laptop shut harder than I should have. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." 

Nancy was sitting in the waiting room, cross legged with her hands folded on top of them. The more put together Nancy acted, the more likely it was she was falling apart. I knew that well. 

She sat back a bit when she saw me. I dropped my bag on the seat beside her. I had the sudden urge to hug her but the last few days had been weird for us. We had been constantly fighting. I crossed my arms instead. 

"What's going on?" 

Before she could answer my question, a doctor came out of a door leading to a long hallway of examination rooms. Her blonde locks swung as she walked up to the two of us, getting close enough that we could hear her properly. She had a pep in her step and a pleasant enough tone that I didn't assume she was here to relay some devastating news. I relaxed my shoulders. 

"We're ready for you, Nancy," she said. 

Nancy's grip on my wrist was like a handcuff. The doctor didn't say anything about me following them and neither did I. I let Nancy drag me down the hallway bathed in fluorescent lights. I followed her into the tiny examination room and sat on the chair beside the door. 

The doctor smiled at me but didn't introduce herself. Neither did she give any context to this meeting. Instead, she clapped her hands together and said the last thing I expected to hear. 

"Your test came out positive. You're pregnant." 

My breath caught in my throat. 

Nancy and I walked shoulder to shoulder to her car. It was a white Honda Civic she saved up money to get herself. I slid into the passenger seat and immediately rolled down a window to ensure I wouldn't run out of air. Nancy tossed her purse and house keys into the back and then settled into her seat, hands resting on the wheel. 

She hadn't said anything since she thanked the doctor. I hadn't said anything at all.   

The silence was charged, heavy, and pregnant. 

Nancy was pregnant. 

I was an aunt. 

Adonis was a dad. 

He would never get to be a dad. 

Nancy was widowed. A single mom. 

I covered my face with my hands. I pictured this moment to be a lot different. There was supposed to be screaming and hugging. Cheering. A toast. Smiles and happy tears. Adonis would have been here. 

I felt the loss of him rush over me again. This time it was a dull ache and not a sharp pang. I felt the grief that belonged to him, the grief of never having a chance to meet his son. I blinked back tears. My throat was closing up. 

Nancy chose to tell me first. 

I should have said something - something comforting - anything at that point. I wanted her to know I was there for her, that she made the right decision by calling me. 

Nancy beat me to it. "Do you want to go get donuts?" 

The question was delivered casually enough to remove some of the tension in my body. I could pretend this was a regular afternoon. I was just going to get donuts with my sister. We hadn't received life altering news. 

"Sure," I said, finally finding my voice. It was weak and hoarse. If she heard its fragility  she ignored it. 

We went through the drive thru of Dunkin Donuts and ate the pastries in the parking lot. I picked at my vanilla frosted one, my stomach feeling a bit queasy. Nancy devoured hers. The boston cream was gone in seconds. 

"This baby loves donuts. This is my tenth donut this week," she said, licking the frosting off her finger tips. 

I gaped at her, mostly because she directly addressed the life growing inside of her but also from the absurdity of it. "It's Wednesday." 

Her casual demeanor fell off. Her bottom lip jutted out as her eyes became glassy. She choked back a sob. "I know!" 

Unbuckling my seat belt, I leaned over to Nancy's seat and pulled her into me. She rested her head on my chest, tears poured down her cheeks in a torrential flood. 

I'd never had the right things to say. Oddly enough, Nancy was better at that. When we were teenagers, she could explain away any trouble I faced. The bad grade in history was okay because I had until the end of the marking period to bring it up, my crush rejecting me was fine because he smelled like spicy cheetos, missing mom was okay because it meant I had something worth missing. She could be tender when it counted. 

Ever since the wedding, Nancy had been less than kind with her words but wasn't that to be expected? She was grieving and now I knew she was also pregnant with her dead husband's child. Her hormones were probably off the charts. 

"How long have you suspected?" I asked. 

"Last week." Nancy sniffled and wiped at her tears with her long sleeve. She was like me in the way that her eyes got extremely swollen when she cried. She was looking at me but I could hardly see her irises. "I'm sorry I ruined your roses and have been treating you like shit. I just felt jealous that you still have Darren and that Adonis is gone -" 

As her sentence continued, her voice grew higher in pitch and more hysterical. I stroked her head, suddenly feeling like I was the one who did something wrong. I shouldn't have given her such a hard time about her attitude. 

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she continued, her words broken up by sobs. "I was supposed to enjoy being married for at least five years and then maybe have a kid. Adonis would be so much better at this than me. How am I supposed to raise a baby alone? This child should have a proper mom and dad like we should have. It's not fair." 

"I know it's not the same but you aren't alone. You have me, Tìo, Tìa and Julio. You don't have to move out. You can stay." The situation was grim but Nancy had people who loved her. We would all take care of each other like we always did. 

As I held Nancy, it registered in my mind that by holding her, I was also holding her baby. A child that was just as much Adonis's as it was Nancy's. A part of him lived on. I wondered if the child would look like him or grow up to be like him. It wasn't perfect but in a sense, we still had Adonis. His DNA, his blood, his essence. It wasn't all lost. 

"I'll help you out," I declared, resolutely. "I'll change diapers and get up in the middle of the night when the baby is crying -" 

Nancy sat up, wiping at her tears. "I appreciate it Mickey but you're not my husband. You're the cool aunt and I want you to enjoy that. You'll visit every other weekend to join us at the park or the beach. You'll sneak him or her cookies even though I've said they can't have anymore. Then, when my kid is a teen, you'll get comfortable and drink too much at family events and overshare about the guys you've met on your trips to Europe." 

Her expression was dreamy as she described this - wishful, even. As if this was a life she had wanted for herself. 

"Things with me and Darren are serious," I corrected. I probably should have let it go but I was ruffled about her reference to European men when she knew I was in a committed relationship. It felt like she had purposefully chosen to ignore my boyfriend. She had done it before and it made me crazy. It made me feel as though he was my imaginary friend. "You're kid might have a cool aunt and uncle. One day you might be an aunt too." 

Her lips pressed together to create a fine line. "Right." 

Since she appeared to be less upset than she was before, I pushed a little. Maybe a change of subject was what she needed. "Still not a fan of Darren?" 

Nancy never became friends with Darren the way I became friends with Adonis. She said hello and was cordial. She seemed indifferent about him at best which was troubling since we'd been together for a while now. I didn't know what she was waiting for. What proof did she need to be convinced that he was good for me? If Darren wasn't good enough, I had trouble believing anyone would be. 

She was almost empathetic as she delivered her verdict, speaking gently and drawing out her words. "I know he makes you happy but I don't want you to be with someone who makes you happy. I want you to be with someone who is good." 

There are no good people, I almost said. What Darren said the day he came to visit me at the house had stood with me. All people are bad. You just have to pick what kind of bad you are willing to put up with. 

I didn't say this though. Nancy wouldn't accept. 

"Hasn't he proved he is good? He practically saved me at the wedding. He's kind and consistent -" 

"That's the thing!" Nancy shouted, not angry but passionate. Her demeanor was of someone who had a word on the tip of her tongue but couldn't quite grasp it. "He's very charming. He acts perfect all the time like he's trying to sell something. Have you ever seen him with bed head? Or ever seen him lose his temper?" 

Nancy's gripes about Darren sounded like non issues. He was too perfect? What kind of complaint was that? Darren did have a sort of unearthly air to him. A scent built of all the loveliest fragrances, a smile that could make you dizzy, a magnetic pull that grabbed a hold of you if you stepped too close. Darren was amazing. 

But I knew he wasn't perfect. 

I had seen Darren lose his temper before - only once before. There were times where someone cut him off in traffic and he got annoyed. He'd groan and then make a joke about it to keep his sanity. I'd seen him stressed about something going on at work and grow a bit frustrated. But really lose his temper? Only once. 

And it was scary. 

It was my last semester of college. I was in my room outlining an essay for one of my finals. It was taking me all afternoon but I was determined to get all my work done before the weekend. It had led to me not really speaking to anyone for a week but I figured I could make up for that when I finally had a weekend to myself. 

My phone buzzed beside me. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And then again. 

I ceased typing and opened up my messaging app. They were from Darren. 

I'm outside. 

Outside like outside your window. 

Can you help me angle the ladder so I can climb up? 

Immediately, I shot up from my desk and ran to my window. Low and behold, Darren stood two stories down, squinting up at me. The sky was a charcoal gray that threatened rain. His eyes reflected the weather making the pale green color appear muddy. 

Darren had been over a couple times before. He used the front door all those times so I was beyond perplexed at his theatrics. I felt like I was in Rapunzel or Romeo and Juliet. 

The ladder my uncle had propped against the side of the house when he had been painting earlier was an arms length away from my window. Darren had moved it closer than it had been before. Tìo wouldn't leave a ladder conveniently placed below my room. Even someone as oblivious as my uncle knew better than that. He really should have taken it down though. 

Without saying anything, Darren motioned for me to move the ladder closer. I was hesitant, glancing back at my closed door, but complied. I dug my heels into my bedroom floor and reached out my arms to bring the ladder closer. As I grabbed the top, Darren grabbed the bottom. Once it was angled correctly, I went back into my bedroom, not wanting to watch him climb as it would make me nervous. My uncle had nearly given me a heart attack earlier when he was on it and let out a yelp. Luckily, he had only seen a spider and hadn't plummeted down onto the dew filled grass. 

In less than a minute, Darren was stepping into my bedroom. He landed on the ground quietly, dusting his blue jeans off with a huff. I watched a few feet away, slightly irked he had shown up unannounced because I was in baggy sweats and an old tee. 

He grinned and reached out to pull me into him. 

"What are you doing here?" I went stiff as he hugged me, my arms pressed to my sides. "The front door works and you know about my family's rule about having you in my bedroom." 

Noticing my posture, Darren released me. Something quickly flickered in his eyes but it was gone before I could process it. The goofy grin returned to his face again, not as bright this time. 

"Rules are meant to be broken!" he said, playfully nudging my shoulder. "Now can I get the kiss I came here for?" 

Reluctantly, I planted a kiss on his lips. Satisfied, he perched himself on my bed and fiddled with the quilt folded atop it. 

"What are you actually here for?" I asked as I settled into the seat at my desk. 

He hunched over, resting his chin in his hand. His eyes went dim and I had to lean in to hear what he was saying. 

"I don't want to be alone with my thoughts right now." 

My eyebrows knitted together. I took a good look at him and saw everything I hadn't when he first arrived. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. He was almost translucent. The fingers that were running up and down my blanket were shaking ever so slightly. 

"Is everything alright?" 

He refused to lift his gaze from the ground. "Yeah, I don't want to talk about it. I just wanted to hide out in your room for a while." 

"Oh, okay." I wracked my mind for anything that could have gone wrong for him that day. We hadn't spoken as much those last few days and I couldn't read his mind. I had no idea what could have been wrong. I wanted to make it better. I wanted to see him smile again or hear him laugh. 

There was a sudden knock on my door. Both of our heads whipped around. 

"I hear a guy's voice in there," my sister said through the door. Her lips must have been pressed close to the crack in the door and she only spoke as loud as we needed to hear her. If my Tìo and Tìa were downstairs, they wouldn't have been able to hear. I was thankful for that much at least. "Are you decent?" 

Darren rolled his eyes and fell back into my bed with a sigh. 

"Not morally but I'm wearing pants, if that's what you mean," he replied. 

Nancy opened the door with her hip. It was only wide enough for her to stand there. 

"Oh, it's you," she commented dryly while looking Darren up and down. "I was hoping it would be that guy Mickey had up here yesterday. I liked him better." 

Darren shot up from his position on my bed. His gaze darted between Nancy and I. 

"What?" he exclaimed. Hurt gripped his vocal cords in a tight noose. 

The tips of Nancy's lips curled up as she watched him squirm. 

"Don't play around like that!" I hissed. Turning back to Darren with an apologetic frown I said, "I've been doing school all week. You know that. Clearly, my sister has nothing better to do today." 

Nancy snickered. "Sure . . . School work." 

I glared at her. Darren may have been able to tolerate this kind of joking on any other day but he had been visibly distressed before she turned up. I feared this was only making his sour mood worse. The man didn't look like he could take anymore heartbreak, not even a pretend one. 

"Oh, relax. I'm joking," Nancy confessed after far too many beats of silence. It seemed like she was trying to do damage control for me now. Like she had let something slip and was back tracking when in reality she probably noticed how wounded Darren was."Mickey hasn't so much as looked in the direction of another guy since you started dating. It's tragic." 

Nancy lingered for a second. She stared at Darren who was staring hard at his shoes, then back at me who probably looked nauseous. Then she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving a mess in her wake. 

I could hear the silence after that. The buzzing noise that filled the eardrums when no one was moving or so much as breathing. It was loud in its own right. 

Darren was as still as a statue. The lamp light from my bedside washed over his skin warmly, bringing out the yellow undertones. His head was dipped down which created sharp shadows around his nose and beneath his eyelids. He suddenly appeared exhausted, utterly drained. His arms hung at his sides like he didn't have the energy to lift them. 

"I'm sorry she did that." I walked over to him and sat beside him on my bed. It sank beneath both of our weight. "Nancy has a twisted sense of humour. You know I would never hurt you like that."  

Silence stretched out between us again. I thought it would strangle me if he didn't say anything soon. Then he did. It was fainter than a whisper. 

"If you're ever unhappy, just leave me. Don't cheat." 

My cheeks flushed red. There was a hidden message in the sentence. It was as if I needed to be told not to cheat, like I might have done it or been tempted to.

"I didn't cheat. I wouldn't. I've always been honest with you," I said and it was true. Darren and I hadn't been together for a very long time but once we were exclusive, it was Darren and only Darren. Even before then, I only had eyes for Darren. I wanted him. 

He nodded. I couldn't help but notice he still hadn't looked at me. He got up and made a beeline for the window. His warmth left with him, leaving me cold.  

I followed him, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from climbing down the ladder. 

"You shouldn't leave while you're upset." 

"Get off of me!" he barked. The command boomed out of his chest. His expression that had remained stoic for the last few minutes was charged with emotion. His eyebrows were turned down sharply. His eyes were lit on fire. It was as if I could feel the energy radiating off of him. He had turned around to face and yanked his arm away from my grasp. 

It was sudden. The change was too quick. It caught me off guard and I felt my heart drop to my feet. 

I flinched away from him and lost my balance. I toppled over close enough to my bed to bang the back of my head on the frame. 

I yelped. The pain was sharp and pulsed through my skull like a headache. I couldn't think straight for a second, couldn't move. I propped myself up with my arm and felt the back of my head. I was relieved not to find blood. Darren stood over me. He stared like a deer in the headlights, his arms frozen in the air in the position they had been when he pulled away from my touch. 

He didn't say anything for a second. I didn't either. None of us moved. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice a whisper again. "I'm so sorry." 

He melted to the ground beside me. At first, his hands hovered over my head like he was scared to touch me. Tears brimmed in his eyes but he blinked them away. Then he was grabbing me. He pulled me into his arms and was rocking me back and forth, cradling my head with his hand. 

He chanted his apology over and over again like a lullaby. "I didn't mean anything I said. I had a bad day. I'm sorry. I'll never be like this with you again. I'm so sorry." 

After a minute, I found myself wrapping my arms around him and pulling him closer, borrowing myself into him. If that was what it felt like to lose him, then I never wanted to. I never wanted to not be the one he ran to when he was down. I never wanted him to look at me like he had, with disappointment and distrust. I held him tighter so he couldn't leave me. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. 

"Maybe I will hold off on moving out," my sister said, her tears drying. She readjusted her scarf and wiped at her tears using the rearview mirror. According to the time displayed in the car's digital screen, we had been sitting in the parking lot for nearly an hour. "At least until this baby is born. It'll save money." 

"Yeah. I have a feeling a lot of your money will be given to financially support Dunkin Donuts," I joked in an attempt to snap myself out of the headspace I had entered. It didn't work. I felt as if I had been recently submerged in water. My clothes were soaking and weighing me down. There was a pressure on my chest growing stronger. It squeezed my lungs. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

Author's Note: What do you think?Remember to vote and comment!