Emily sank into the armchair, fingers gripping her knees. Mark stayed near the window, deliberately creating space. Her mother held a crumpled tissue so tight it shook in her hand.
Then the story began.
Twenty-two years earlier, she had been nineteen, a freshman at Ohio State. She met a charming young man—confident, funny, full of plans. She fell fast. Too fast. And just months later, she was expecting a child.
When she told him, he panicked. He said he wasn’t ready, that life had other plans. The argument that followed left marks she never forgot.
“He told me that if I kept the baby, I’d be raising her alone.”
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