Ellen and I immediately hit it off. We were working together on a three-month stint in a rural community, and we were each other’s oases. She was beautiful, fun, happy, and outgoing. We had incredible chemistry, and our shared faith deepened our bond. She had several children from a previous marriage, but things between us were casual and I never asked about the father.
We went out for pizza one night and ended up back at my place. I told her I didn’t have protection, but she said something along the lines of “that’s okay; I’m alright.” We saw each other at work the next day and it was really good for a while. About a month later, she showed me a positive pregnancy test.
I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said she wasn’t sure. Deep down inside, I knew that I’d be gone in a month. I didn’t know where work would take me — where I’d be a year later, or even a month later. I knew I’d be working crazy hours and not making very much money, certainly not enough to afford a kid. But if she’d said she wanted to keep the baby, I would have figured out a way to make it happen.
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