“I’m… pregnant,” I whispered, fighting the sting in my eyes. It seemed that all I did these days was cry and feel bad. “What?” Shimmy’s voice cracked. “You’re what?” “You heard me.” I glanced up, and his face had gone pasty white. He started running his hands through his hair, something I had noticed he did when he was nervous, but I had no energy to comfort him. I walked hunched over to the couch. “I’ve been trying to get rid of it, but nothing works.” “How could you’ve let this happen?” Anger rushed his words. “Me?” I shouted. “Please stop acting like you weren’t there.”
