His Wine Cost More Than My Unborn Child Chapter 01

His Wine Cost More Than My Unborn Child Chapter 01

The year I had nothing, I found out I was pregnant.

Corbin Voss paid for the abortion with money from a payday loan he took out.

While I was recovering, the best thing I ate was a five-dollar pack of frozen chicken nuggets from the local grocery store.

I couldn’t stand watching Corbin work construction all day, then jump on his delivery scooter every night.

To ease his burden, I rested for only three days before taking a part-time waitressing job at The Velvet Room, where a friend worked.

“This job’s in high demand,” she told me. “The daily pay is great, tips are even better. I’m only telling you about it because I know you’re struggling.”

“Don’t worry. All you have to do is serve drinks and food. It’s completely legitimate.”

That night, I saw Corbin.

He sat in the center of the private room, surrounded by people hanging on his every word.

They went through seven or eight bottles of six-figure vintage Bordeaux.

The watch he casually gave a hostess was rumored to be worth over two hundred thousand dollars.

They partied until almost dawn.

Then he wiped the lipstick off his face, grabbed a yellow delivery helmet from the couch, and stood up.

“I’ve gotta head home.”

One of the guys laughed.

“Seriously, Corbin? You’re still pretending to be some broke delivery driver dating a poor girl?”

“Your old man’s been pushing you to get married. End it already. If she ever finds out who you really are, she’ll never let go.”

Corbin let out a quiet laugh.

“She’s not that clever.”

I stood silently in the darkest corner with my head lowered.

My abortion had cost two thousand dollars.

Everything I’d eaten during recovery over those three days totaled about a hundred.

Twenty-one hundred dollars.

Not even as much as the fruit platter sitting on the table.

I was that cheap.

—

Corbin got home before I did.

He called while I was changing out of my work uniform and collecting my pay.

Eight hundred dollars. That was more than I made in a week back at the factory, where I pulled in about four thousand a month.

“If they need more people later, would you come back?” my friend asked.

I paused for a second, then shook my head.

My grandma always told me to earn my keep the honest way.

The money came too easy. It just didn’t sit right with me.

“Your call.” She shrugged. “Be careful on your way home. Text me when you get there.”

I nodded and walked out of The Velvet Room.

The buses ran forever apart after midnight.

I’d been on my feet all night. The cold wind made my head ache, and my stomach still hurt.

Corbin had already called me eight times.

When the ninth call came in, I finally answered.

“Where are you? Why weren’t you picking up?”

His voice was tight with panic.

“You left without saying anything. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

I stayed quiet.

A few seconds later, he seemed to realize he’d lost control.

He took several deep breaths before speaking again, his voice much softer.

“Where are you? Let me come get you, okay?”

The bus pulled up. I got on and tapped my transit card.

“No need. I’ll be home soon.”

I hung up.

Traffic was light, and I made it home without any delays.

When I stepped off the bus, I looked up and saw Corbin waiting at the stop.

He was still in that dirty delivery uniform.

The dim streetlight fell perfectly across the sharp angles of his face.

Truth was, he never looked like a delivery driver.

Even in that uniform, he looked like he belonged in an ad for the company.

I used to think that was because I was in love.

He looked good in a T-shirt.

Good in flip-flops. Good with helmet hair smashed flat. Good with a buzz cut.

Everything about him looked good.

Everything about him made me love him even more.

When he saw me, he didn’t say a word.

He took my canvas bag from my shoulder, brushed my cold cheek with his hand, then wrapped both of my frozen hands inside his.

“You must be hungry.”

“I got you mac and cheese. Even had them add an extra hot dog for you.”

Back when every dollar mattered, even that extra hot dog felt like a luxury.

It was always mine.

He’d even asked for it to be cooked just the way I liked.

He never took a single bite. He always saved it for me.

Those memories used to be the things I treasured most.

I gave Corbin everything I had.

As long as we were together, I wasn’t afraid of anything.

But now I knew the truth.

To Corbin, none of it was worth much. Not me. Not my love. Not even our baby.

All of it together was worth less than a fruit platter.