Joanne tried to sleep that night, but sleep refused to come. Her mind spun through a thousand dark what-ifs... all of them ending with her alone.
Could she do it alone? Absolutely. She always had. But this time, she didn't want to. She was tired of being strong. Tired of carrying every burden by herself. Tired of pretending that needing help was a weakness.
She didn't want to raise a child alone. Not in secrecy. Not with whispers following her, questioning who the father was. Not without a ring on her finger or a promise in her hand.
Yes, she was strong. But not that strong. Not anymore.
The truth rang painfully clear in her heart:
She could, but she refused.
She loved this baby with every part of herself already—but love shouldn't have to mean doing it all alone.
Why should she carry everything when the father bore just as much responsibility?
