I listened to Gwen's voice repeatedly fading in and out and looked at my best friend sitting next to me, her face full of worry.
"Juliet, are you really not going to tell Jean about the child?" My best friend asked, "As long as you say you also have a child, that you and he have a child together, I believe Jean will come back."
"But I don't want to."
I placed my hand on my lower abdomen.
Life was growing there.
It was my and Jean's child, the continuation of our love that we had hoped for for so many years.
But then, I suddenly didn't want to be a mother anymore.
I didn't want my child to grow up with the same incomplete childhood shadows as me.
I told my best friend, "From the moment Jean chose Gwen, from the moment he nodded and agreed to be someone else's father, he no longer deserves to be the father of my child."
On the day I had scheduled the abortion surgery with the doctor, I saw Jean, who was accompanying Gwen's son to the hospital.
Jean saw me at a glance, instinctively let go of Gwen's son's hand and called out to me, "Juliet, why are you here?"
He saw the examination report in my hand and was about to come forward.