Twenty Three

I place my hand on my belly as I stare out of the window, trying to visualize mine and my baby’s future.

There’s no way Shane would be the kind of father any child should have. He’ll be worse than my father, who at least was only cold and distant. He was never cruel like Shane.

When a bus pulls up beside the gas station, I shift my focus to it.

The bus driver who gets out isn’t the same one who brought me here, though he’s wearing a familiar blue uniform. I watch him step out of the bus and head straight for the tiny shop attached to the gas station.

Just outside, Shane fills up the car. The fumes are so strong that I don’t know how it doesn’t bother him at all, given how sensitive our noses are. He’s gazing into the distance, looking distracted. I guess he’s thinking about Bree. Or maybe he’s thinking about getting rid of me so he can be free to be with her instead of me.

Minutes pass, and then the bus driver emerges from the shop and heads toward the bus. Whether he’d stopped to us