Chasing Cars

I woke in the morning to the feel of Chris rubbing my arm.

“Marley,” he said. I sat up and blinked at him. “I have to head out early. I have practice today.”

“Oh. Okay.” He kissed my forehead and then my lips.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Alright.” He kissed me quickly again but kept his hand at the back of my head.

“I love you, Marley. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I never have. And I love you too.” He took a deep breath, let me have one more kiss, and then stood up.

“Don’t forget to eat breakfast,” he said. Then he gathered up his things and left.

He was right. It did hurt when he was gone. It hurt so bad I cried the entire time I got ready. If I had to be totally honest with myself—I did want this baby. I wanted us to have the life we were heading into. The whole marriage and family thing. But I hated that it hadn’t been on my terms. Chris and I were young enough that we never needed to talk about it before now. And we weren’t talking about it now because it felt like the right step. Only because we were being forced to. Maybe I was just stubborn. But I wanted to make sure it was the right choice before jumping in.

And even though we’d slept together, things didn’t change. They actually might have gotten worse. We were afraid to be alone together because it hurt so much whenever we had to part. He still called every day, but we only saw each other about once a week when he’d take me to lunch. Never back to Vic’s and never home. It felt like he was trying to keep distance between us. But he did always at least kiss me goodbye. Not friendly pecks on the cheek either. The kisses weren’t entirely romantic. Never any tongue or anything. But the soft, quick peck on my lips was enough to make me feel like we weren’t entirely broken up.

And then the first of the month came, and I was—not well. Since Chris wasn’t living with me anymore, I had to scrape up the entire rental payment by myself. Which meant I’d have absolutely nothing left for the next two weeks. No money for food or anything else I needed. I could have called Chris for help, but I didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t living there anymore, and it wasn’t his responsibility. So I wrote up a check (crying) and then dragged myself downstairs to take it to the on-site manager.

“Hi, I’m here to pay my rent,” I told her when she answered the door.

“Of course. Come on in,” she said. She led me into her apartment, and I hung around the entry like I always did. Hers was shaped like mine but infinitely stuffier. She had a bunch of stuff she’d collected over the years of managing apartments. She had to do some quick maneuvering to get around piles of junk just to get to the kitchen island to find her clipboard. “Alright, let’s see. Number two-twelve, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Okay, all I need is that three hundred, and then we’re all set.”

“Wait, three hundred?” She looked up at me, blinking behind her large glasses.

“Oh, Chris already stopped by with the rest.” I was silent for a few beats.

“Can I come back? I have to rewrite this.”

“No problem.” I left her apartment and rushed back up the stairs to call Chris.

“Why did you pay my rent?” I asked when he answered.

“Because I always do.”

“But you paid more than your half. I only owe three hundred.”

“So?”

“You don’t live here.”

“And?”

“And that’s not fair, Chris. You shouldn’t have to pay rent for a place you don’t live in.” He took a deep breath.

“Could you afford to cover the entire month’s rent yourself?”

“I’ll be low on cash, but I won’t starve to death.”

“The rent is nearly your entire check. You won’t have enough for groceries. I’m not letting you go without.”

“I’m not letting you throw away your money for someone who kicked you out.”

“It’s still my address. So I paid for my share so I can keep it as my address. Also, I may not be living there, but my kid is. So I paid for my kid’s share. Consider it child support. You honestly think I’d let you go without?” That shut me up for a minute.

“How long are you planning on doing this?”

“As long as I need to.”

“And when the baby is born?”

“That’s on you. If the baby moves in with me and you go off on your own, obviously, I’m not going to pay you child support. But I still wouldn’t let you go without if you needed anything.”

“I’d owe you child support.”

“Probably, yeah. But I make enough money. Baby will be fine.”

“I suppose that’s only fair.”

“I’m glad you agree. But I’m not going to stop paying the rent. So get used to it. We’ll talk about things once we know your plan, okay?” I sighed.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

I hung up and went to rewrite the check. In truth, I was kind of relieved. The rent was really going to set me back, and I wasn’t looking forward to surviving off of ramen and whatever food I could con my friends out of. So I took the new check back down to the manager and handed it over.

“Alright, I have you paid up,” she said with a smile. “And I heard about the baby. Congratulations.” It was obviously a baby now and not just too much food. I awkwardly patted the bump.

“Uh—thanks,” I said. Then I hurried off and shuffled back up the stairs on my swollen feet.