Page 274 of Tell Me I'm Enough

Would he think I got pregnant on purpose?

Would he think I lost it on purpose?

Would he think I did this by partying and drinking when I didn’t even know?

Is this my fault?

My mind is spinning with a thousand thoughts that I just want to turn off right now.

I turn back to the doctor and shake my head. “No, just my um…sister here. No one else.”

She nods and pats my hand. “Okay. We’ll take good care of you. Someone will be in soon to move you upstairs.”

When she leaves, I stare at the ceiling, tears still sliding down the sides of my face. Lani wipes them gently with her thumb.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

“I feel stupid,” I whisper back.

“Don’t,” she says immediately. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

My phone vibrates loudly on the table beside me, and I just stare over at it.

Lani follows my gaze. “Do you want it?”

I nod.

Lani picks up my phone and hands it to me, and his name is the first thing I see as soon as the screen lights up.

Mason: You wanna hang today? I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go

The message is so casual. So him. Like the world is still normal. Like I’m still just Simone, the girl he kisses when he’s sober and holds tighter when he’s not—which is the majority of the time lately.

I want to tell him, I really do. I don’t want to hold this alone. But I—I just can’t. I can’t add this to the list of things he carries.

I just type back something simple, something casual, something that screams everything is still normal when it feels like anything but.

Simone: Hey, I’m actually out with Lani today. Rain check?

His response comes in quickly.

Mason: *Insert sad Mason* Okay. Just know I’m missing you

I keep staring at my phone, not having anything else to say back, because I feel too emotional, and I don’t want to lie to him any more than I already am.

“Was that Mason?” Lani asks quietly, walking closer to me.

I’ve never told anyone that I was hooking up with him. But you can never underestimate Lani. She figures out everything.

I nod, swallowing hard. “I can’t,” I whisper.

She doesn’t push it. She just squeezes my hand again. “Okay.”

A nurse comes in shortly after and tells me they’re going to wheel me down to the procedure room. She hands me a clipboard with some papers to fill out and sign on our way there, and I take it, trying to focus on the words when my head is barely here, barely being able to think straight.

I feel so detached from myself right now as I read words like evacuation, retained products, dilation, and curettage. I hate all of this. It makes me sick to think about what they have to do.

I want to just tell myself it’s not a big deal. That I didn’t even know until today, so it’s not like I was attached or anything. But I can’t help it still hurting like this is something major being taken away from me.