I must have, under the influence of alcohol and with the excuse of apologizing, spent the night with Locke.
After I got home, I immediately left the class group chat and blocked all my middle school classmates.
Although I'm not so vain as to think Locke would cling to me and demand I take responsibility, I still felt a bit nervous.
Three months have passed, and my life has returned to normal.
Life has been so calm that sometimes I wonder if everything that happened that night was just a figment of my imagination.
However, I'm pregnant.
I didn't dare delay, and before I could develop too much attachment to the child, I quickly scheduled an abortion.
I remember the class president joking that night, telling Locke to invite him to his wedding.
I don't want my child to be born fatherless, carrying the stigma of being illegitimate for a lifetime.
I believe that the mistakes of adults shouldn't be borne by a child.
As I lay on the cold operating table, a dull pain began to stir in my stomach.
It felt like something was gripping me tightly.
I couldn't tell if it was because my child sensed the threat of death.
My heart ached.
This reaction made me sit up.