😭❤️🥳❤️

I stared at my phone for what felt like hours. I was currently in the bathroom, Yasmin was still sleeping.

Sarah didn't send a message with the image but the message was loud and clear.

She's pregnant.

Of course, we have no idea if this baby will survive and obviously I want the baby to survive. But Yasmin is going to hate me.

Just when things were getting better.

Fuck.

I rub a hand over my face and sigh. It had only been a week since she was discharged from the hospital. She's been quiet most of the time, not saying anything unless spoke to. I guess she was really shaken up from the accident.

That's what I initially thought.

It took her father four days to answer my call, when I told him that his daughter had been in an accident and suffered injuries, all he said was that she should have the next two weeks off of work. He wasn't the least bit concerned that his only child nearly died.

I realized that I'm all she has. She doesn't have female friends, or male friends from what I gather. She only works and... well, that's it. No wonder she was so adamant about not seeing me if I didn't fully choose her.

No one in her life felt she was important enough to be top priority.

I felt even more like shit once I had that epiphany. All that this made me realize is that, I need to step my game up.

And this... this news was not a good start.

But if I'm going to be good for her, then I'm going to do it right. Starting off with the truth. No more lies.

I walk out of the bathroom and sit on the bed, Yasmin opens her eyes and smiles at me softly. I lean down and kiss her forehead before sighing again.

"I have something to tell you, you're not going to be happy about it. But, it needs to be said." Her smile falters at my words and she sits up with a grimace. Her ribs were still bandaged and giving her pain.

"Sarah is pregnant." I let that sink in, feeling dread as her face becomes

impassive.

She's says nothing and looks straight ahead, away from me. Blinking rapidly, she turns on her side—away from me— and lies down slowly as she was before. All without saying a word.

Frowning, I reach out for her with my hand but she moves away from me.

"Yaz, can we talk about this? Say something, please."

"What's there to talk about. You're going to be a father. Congratulations." Her voice was monotone, completely unlike her. I would much rather her be angry with me than so... numb.

She pauses before getting out of bed completely and turning to me, "I don't know why I keep thinking that I'll be happy for once. My life is just a never ending disappointment. I keep thinking that we'll be happily ever after and then... shit hits the fan. Always. I can't find my give a fuck anymore." Her eyes were low, her expression sad, she shook her head with a dark chuckle and walked out of the room.

Her words cut like a knife in my chest, as the days went by, Yasmin was becoming more and more depressed. I could tell because I'd seen the same symptoms in Sarah. The situations are completely different, but the words—the actions were all the same.

I recalled the words the doctor said to me as we were leaving the hospital.

"I'm not a therapist or a psychiatrist, please know that. But I have friends that are with hard earned degrees. While checking over her injuries, we found cut marks on her legs. Very faint, like she'd done them a few months ago. Easy to miss. Here's the number to a therapist, she's very professional, very good at what she does. I know this is a lot to take in, but please consider it."

"What are you talking about? I think I'd know if she was... h-harming herself. I'm her boyfriend." He only gave me a pitiful glance before placing the number in my hand. He pat my shoulder sympathetically and walked away.

I frowned before snorting, "no way I'd miss that. No way."

But his words swirled around my head that night, keeping me from sleeping. I couldn't help myself any longer and pushed the sheets off of Yasmin's sleeping body. Using my phone's flashlight, I shine the light on her thigh and tried not gasp at the thin, faint scars on her skin.

He was right. When we had sex, I guess I was so caught up that I didn't even notice the cuts.

I didn't notice her pain.

Now, as I sit in the room by myself, I pull the piece of paper from my drawer and stare at it.

I pull out my phone and dial the number.

It only takes two rings for her to pick up, "hello?"

"Hi, Doctor Matthews gave me this number for possible therapy...?" I wasn't sure what to say.

"Ah, is this for you or for someone else?" I heard ruffling on the line, as if she was moving papers around.

"For my girlfriend, Yasmin. I'm Logan."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Logan. My name is Dr. Wendy Dixon, you can just call me Wendy. Now, tell me a little bit about your Yasmin." She had a faint English accent as she spoke, her voice was soothing, I felt comfortable talking to her immediately.

"Um... well she's very stubborn and sassy. She's a business woman, shrewd and intelligent. Very hardworking and— sad."

"Sad? What makes her seem sad?"

"She was recently in a car accident and I was the only one that would pick up the phone. Both her parents are alive and it took her father four days to answer my call, and he didn't give a rat's ass that she could've died. She doesn't have friends, I'm also an asshole who keeps fucking things up for her." I inhale, noticing how much I rambled off without taking a breath.

It was silent on her end for a moment. "Well, you must care about her a great deal if you're calling me."

"I do, I love her. I don't always express it how I should, but I do."

"And do you think that she's be open to having a session with me?"

"I hope so, I'll try to convince her. Like I said, she's very stubborn. But she has no one to talk to when I fuck things up, ya know? Maybe she'll feel a little better if she lets her emotions out to someone who hasn't hurt her."

"Maybe... why don't you bring her here on Saturday at a time of your choice and we'll talk a little. Just to try it out, if she doesn't like it then we can't force her. If you push her too hard she'll just pull away more. Here's the address—" I pull out a notepad and write down the address and mumble an okay at her words.

"I'll see you then, okay? And Logan, you're doing good by her by calling me, you want her to get better. That's admirable. Chin up, kiddo. See you then." She hangs up and I stare at my lap for a moment.

Today is Thursday, that means that I have a day and a half of persuading to do.

If not, then I'll just have to trick her.

For the greater good, it's for her one food. Yep.

I get up and walk downstairs and find her sleeping on the couch, bundled up in a ball.

It's for her own good.