“I met Kevin at the beginning of sophomore year. I guess you could say it was love at first sight for both of us.” She lets out a harsh laugh. “What I thought was love. He was an engineering major, smart, funny, cute, and he made me feel special. He would plan real dates, bring me flowers, take me away for weekend trips to his parents’ cabin. Things got hot and heavy between us fast, and we were both young. Stupid and ignorant of all the things that could go wrong. We used condoms. Most of the time.”

A surge of jealous rage boils through my head. The thought of her with another guy, without protection, and I can barely focus on what she’s saying. I release a harsh breath. I have no right to be angry about something that happened years ago, but when I look at Kate all I can see is mine. Mine. I don’t want her with anyone else. She’s stopped talking, is gazing off and I wonder what memories imprison her. I squeeze her hand, her shoulders slump and her voice quiets.

“A few weeks before Thanksgiving vacation I got really sick. I thought it was the flu but after a few days I wasn’t better. I went to the health center and as I’m sure you can guess, surprise, I found out I was pregnant. They talked about my options and I left with a pile of pamphlets. I was so shocked. I knew I was in no place to have and raise a child but I knew Kevin would take care of me. He would know what to do.” After another shaky breath, she continues.

“I called him and told him we needed to talk. He agreed to meet me at my dorm. When I opened the door to his smiling face I remember thinking how lucky I was to have him as my boyfriend. He brought chicken soup from the Student Union because he still thought I had the flu.

“I told him I was pregnant. No finesse, you know, just blurted it out. He kept shaking his head, saying ‘This can’t be happening. I can’t be a dad. I’m not even close to graduating.’ Over and over. It started to piss me off. I was so scared, Jon, and he’s worried he’s not graduating for another two years. Finally he snaps out of it, and holds me. I felt so safe. For two minutes.

“Because when he pulled back and looked into my eyes he said, ‘Don’t worry, Kate. We can take care of this. I’ll pay for the abortion.’ I couldn’t believe it. How could this man—this person who I thought I loved and loved me in return—say such a thing?”

“Asshole.” She shakes her head and I want to find this Kevin guy and acquaint him with my fist. I hold back my anger, though. I’m worried if I interrupt Kate now she’ll never tell me the rest. I can’t believe she’s a mother.

“I told him I wasn’t ready to make that kind of decision. Because a funny thing happened somewhere between hearing there was a tiny person growing inside and making my way across campus. I started to hope, to dream, to fall in love with my baby. It’s a surreal feeling to know there is this life inside of you.” She blinks and tears fall silently. I use my thumb to rub along her hand. She tilts her head and finally meets my gaze.

“Kevin broke up with me. Said there was no way he could be a father. I was a wreck, emotionally and physically. It broke me. So when Evie came back from classes I decided not to tell her about the baby. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought she’d yell or leave me, I just couldn’t fathom more rejection. I told her Kevin had ended things. A few days later we flew home for Thanksgiving break. I was so relieved to be going home. I was scared too. I knew my parents wouldn’t be happy with my news, but I needed to tell them.

“I waited until the day I was flying back to say anything. I think deep down I knew. My dad screamed and shouted. Called me a disappointment. Called me names—slut, whore, you can imagine. My mom just stood there. Didn’t say a damn thing. Didn’t hold me. Didn’t defend me. Didn’t ask me questions. Didn’t even have the decency to have my little brother leave the room. He wasn’t even twelve. I left for the airport six hours early and sat there thinking long and hard about my choices.”

Tears flow freely down her face and I can’t stand to be so far away. I drop to my knees so I can cradle her cheeks within my palms. I use my thumbs to catch her tears.

“I decided to have the baby, Jon. Despite what everyone thought. I even went back to the student wellness center. They gave me vitamins. I had my first ultrasound. Heard the heartbeat. I’ll always remember that sound.” She closes her eyes and soft sobs escape her lips.

“You were so brave.” Her eyes snap open and her voice is eerily void of emotion when she finally speaks.

“I wasn’t brave. I struggled to keep food down. I stressed and missed classes. How would I raise a child? How could afford it? I needed a job. I needed money. I needed help. I tried to be strong, but it wasn’t enough.” Kate turns her chin and lets her gaze drop to the floor.

“Week of finals I started bleeding. Four days later I lost my baby.” Her body’s shaking. I pull her into my lap and loud sobs break free. I just hold her, unsure what to say. What else to do.

Her pain, I understand it now. It’s not the same as my own but this is how she knows what it’s like to have someone ripped from your life unexpectedly. She settles and pulls out of my arms. We sit on the floor across from each other. Her fingers play with threads of the worn carpet.

“So, now you know.” She shrugs.

“I’m sorry, Kate. God, I’m so pissed at that shithead, Kevin.”

“Don’t be. We were just kids. You know, I was mad at him for a long time too. But he was just scared. He’s married now and they have two kids. Works in Colorado Springs. I’m even friends with him on Facebook.” She laughs but I don’t find the humor.

“You know, I learned early that people will believe what they want no matter what you say. That’s why I don’t care what people assume about me. What matters is what I think about me. How I see myself in the quiet, when no one is around. Can I stand to see the image in the mirror? I blamed myself for a long time. If I had eaten better. Maybe if I slept more. Learned to not be so stressed out...”

“You can’t blame yourself, Kate. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that now, but it wasn’t easy to accept. I was out of control for the first few months, nearly kicked out of school for poor grades, drank and partied way too hard, slept with people whose faces I don’t remember, names I didn’t know.”

“What changed?”

“Evie.” A smile plays at her lips. “She never asked me why I lost my shit. Never judged me. But one Sunday I came home, hungover, my own puke stuck to my jacket and she sat me down. Said she made me an appointment with a counselor on campus. That she loved me. That she was scared for me. That I was hurting her because I was hurting myself. She walked me to my appointments for the first few weeks.

“It was tough. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like the feeling I got when we talked about my baby. My counselor happened to be a yoga instructor at a studio near campus and suggested I come by. Our sessions combined with my practice gave me the skills to get through. As you can tell, the yoga part stuck.

“I still can’t bring myself to forgive my parents. That’s why we don’t talk. A parent should be someone who loves you, is there for you. No matter what. And they let me down when I needed them most.” The honesty and vulnerability she’s entrusting is utterly humbling. I look at Kate, my Kate, and realize there is a quiet strength beneath a sometimes loud, brash, sassy exterior. She’s tough as fucking nails.

“I’m glad I punched your dad tonight,” I blurt, and Kate laughs.

“Me too. You know the worst thing? When I came home for winter break. I told my parents I’d lost the baby. My dad looked me in the face and said, ‘It’s just as well. You can’t raise a baby. I just hope you learned your lesson and won’t come home knocked up again.’”

Now I want to go back and kick his ass. What kind of parent says that? Now I understand why she doesn’t speak to her parents. I wonder who else knows this part of her.