Pull Out My Insides

"She?" he asks, staring into my eyes.

"She," I nod, staring into his eyes. "I found out at my last appointment."

A pained look comes across his face and he stares down at me.

"Look, I know that what I did was completely fucked up and so utterly embarrassing and degrading that I don't even want to think of it anymore, and I... I wish you would give me another chance. A chance to redeem myself. But, uh, you're keeping the baby, right?" he asks.

I nod quickly. "Of course."

He smiles a bit and looks down. "But even if you don't let me have another chance, I still want to be in the baby's life. My parents raised me with good morals and I think that I have an obligation to support you. If you'll let me, that is," he states.

"I-I'll... let's just see how it goes, okay? I'm not sure about giving you a second chance... I know that you're sorry and all and you're different, but really, how do I know? You could just be setting me up again and cause me even more pain and embarrassment. I need more time. But I will let you be in the baby's life. I love her with everything I have already and she deserves everything that a girl could have, including a father," I whisper to him.

"Uh, okay, cool," he stammers, tripping over his words. "Do you wanna come over so we can talk a little more?"

I nod a little. "Yeah, sure..."

**

"So, when's your next appointment?" he asks once we sit down and get situated.

"In a week and a half. Saturday after next."

"And you'll be..."

"Seven months gone."

"Wow..." he mutters, running a hand through his thick, dark brown hair.

"Yep. Seven months already. Only two more and she'll be here."

"Two months..." he mutters. "Have you thought of names?"

"Uh, yeah, I have one for her, but I haven't told anyone."

"Well, what is it?" he asks curiously, hand reaching out a bit and then retracting just as quickly.

"It's fine, you can touch it," I tell him, bringing his hand onto the protruding bump. Right as I do so, she starts moving around a lot and nudging against her father's hand.

"She's like this all the time," I groan, just waiting until she kicks me in the kidney again.

He doesn't really say anything, just stares, wide-eyed, moving his hand around, dancing around with his unborn daughter.

"So, what's the name?" he asks.

I just groan and lean forward, whispering it in his ear.

"I like it," he says with an impressed look.

"Thanks, I've been a bit obsessed with the name for a while. And then the opportunity came up..." I grin.

"Is she going to be taking your name?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Let's just see where this goes. Although, I'm leaning more towards giving her your name. I think it's more respectful that way, ya know? I mean, if you're okay with that."

"Yeah, yeah, totally," he says.

After a few minutes of him rubbing my stomach and me resting my eyes, the silence is finally broken.

"I like your hair."

"Thanks," I grin, running a hand through my thick locks. "I grew the roots out and then dyed the rest of it closer to my natural color. I think I'll keep it this way, though."

"It looks nice. I think it suits you," he smiles.

"I wish I had hair like yours. So curly and pretty. Mine's just... blah... Always wavy and frizzy. It sucks."

"Bullshit, your hair's the best. If anyone has the best hair, it's you."

"Hogwash, it's you!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

"NUH UH!"

I just huff and turn my head to the side, crossing my arms.

"This conversation's over. It's yours."

"Fine. And it's yours."

"Yours."

"Yours."

"Yours."

"Yours."

"Mine."

"Mi--HEY!"

"Hey," I grin.

"You dirty little trickster," he states, narrowing his eyes playfully.

"Guilty as charged!"