Author's Note:
Before we dive in, I wanted to ask if Chapter 12 felt too packed with Sage, Bryan, and Austin, or if it still worked for you emotionally. I was torn about including so much of them since that chapter didn't focus entirely on Milly. Let me know if you'd like more scenes like that or if you'd rather the story stay centered on Milly's journey.

And what are your thoughts about me adding music to the chapters? Also, what do you think of the new book cover? I drew it myself!

Content Warning:
Verbal Abuse, Slut-Shaming, and Emotional Distress. Please take care while reading.

The shift had been chaos. Judgment came in waves—silent, loud, constant.

Milly rang up items for a woman in her late sixties. The woman's eyes swept over her belly, full of disdain, lips tightening as if the sight personally offended her.

"That'll be $65," Milly said, forcing a smile. Her cheeks ached from holding it too long.

The woman leaned closer, voice dripping. "Do you even have a father for that child?"

Milly's fingers stiffened on the register. She said nothing, just extended her hand for the payment. Her jaw clenched tight.

She told herself she didn't care. That she was used to this. But a small, sharp ache bloomed in her chest anyway.

Maybe because when enough people say the same thing, one eventually slips past your guard.

Or maybe because she was soon due.

The woman's friend elbowed her and muttered just loud enough to be heard.

"Doubt it. Look at her—boobs popping out like she's still out shopping for a daddy. Kids today. Ruining their lives. Poor child, stuck with someone like her. Let's hope it's not a girl—she'll end up the same."

Milly bit the inside of her cheek. Hard.
The copper taste of blood flooded her mouth.

Her hands, still on the counter, trembled slightly.
She tightened her grip on the drawer as if that could hold her together.

She thought she'd heard it all before.
But this? This was beyond cruel.

Dragging her unborn baby into their disgust—like she was already a failure.

She kept her eyes down, focusing on the register display. Her fingers moved quickly—cash, change, receipt.

Breathe.
Don't react.
Just finish the transaction.

Her eyes scrolled up and connected on Matty.

When had he even come in? Why was he always around when she was getting belittled?

Sage and Matty strolled out from between the shelves, Matty wearing a grin—wide and cocky.

"She does have a father," he said, jerking his chin toward Milly's stomach. "You're lookin' at him. So maybe get lost, you old bats."

The women recoiled, clutching their purses with dramatic huffs.

"Just give us our change," one snapped.

Milly blinked, stunned.
Something in her chest loosened, but the knot didn't disappear completely.

"You don't have to claim a kid that isn't yours," she muttered to Matty, voice dry. She gave a brittle laugh, more breath than sound.

She slid the change across the counter with a steady hand, then met their eyes.

"You're right. My baby doesn't have a father. Because unlike your generation, I didn't have to marry the first man who offered a roof."

They flinched.

"I wasn't sold to pay off my dad's debt. I chose this. I can sleep with whoever I want. And I'm not stuck caring for a husband who cheats and drinks and still expects applause."

Sage, sipping water as she came to the counter, choked and started coughing, her eyes wide.

Milly didn't stay for the fallout. She turned sharply and headed to the bathroom, her sneakers sliding across the tile floor, making a squeaky sound.

Inside, she gripped the sink. Her knuckles went white. The mirror showed someone holding it together by a thread.

She took one deep breath. Then another.

Her hand drifted to her belly.

She tried but it was hard.
To stay quiet.

Because now she knew her daughter could hear. Gracey's voice echoed in her memory from the day she learned it.

"If you're asking, it's not dumb," she'd said, smiling without judgment. "And even if it feels that way—I won't tell anyone. You won't either."

Milly had laughed then, nervous and unsure. "I tried what you suggested. Talking to her. But... can she hear me? I should've just Googled it."

Gracey had patted her hand. "You remind me of my daughter. And yes. She hears you. Maybe for a little while now. She's big enough now, and your voice is her favorite thing to listen to. Has she kicked yet?"

"Yeah," Milly had whispered back. "She does."

She remembered the flutter of movement. The way it had felt like a secret—just between them.

She'd pressed her hand there that night, whispered soft promises:

"I won't let anyone talk down to you. Not while I'm around. I love you. And you're already perfect. No matter what they say. No matter where you came from."

And she'd meant it.

Now, under the fluorescent lights and the bitter taste of humiliation still clinging to her tongue, she looked up again.

"Hi, LP," she whispered to her stomach. Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. But I swear—I'll love you enough for both parents."

Her daughter did no movement.
Maybe she was sleeping.
A short smile came.

Maybe.

She stood there a moment longer, breathing slow, one hand still resting over her stomach. Letting the silence settle over her.

When she stepped back out, Sage was waiting near the counter, arms crossed, one hip popped, her blonde hair slung over one shoulder.

"You good?" she asked, tilting her head.

And Milly nodded.

A frown creased Sage's lips, a knot pulling between her brows. "I'm glad you said something......" Her hand hit the counter as she groaned. "I was so ready to tell those old gremlins where to shove it."

Milly let out a dry laugh. "Thank you, Sage."

Sage gave her a soft smile, her dimples showing softly.

Matty stood by the counter, his hands buried deep in his hoodie pocket. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flicking up toward her, then down again.

"Thanks, Matty," Milly said.

He looked up. A quick smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, Sage," he said, voice uneven. "Could I talk to Milly alone for a sec?"

Sage scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Matthew, she just survived old judgmental ladies, and now you wanna try and get in her pants? You're shameless."

He sputtered. "What—no, God—can you not—just leave, please."

Sage smirked, her grey eyes darting between them, then paused on Milly.

She raised a brow.
You okay with this?

Milly gave a small nod.

"Fine," Sage sighed, dragging her feet as she walked off. "But if he makes it weird, call me. I'm trained in dealing with a Matty."

Matty leaned against the counter again, now holding a few Jolly Ranchers in his hand. He looked down at them like they might buy him more time.

"These are for you," he said. "And LP."

Milly folded her arms across her chest. "Why are you being nice?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Because... I just know. Being a teen mom? That's heavy. And honestly, I felt like an ass. When I saw you at the gas station that day... I thought you were in something bad. Like, scary bad."

His voice dipped lower. "I thought maybe you needed help. That maybe you didn't have a way out. And I regret not speaking up when I saw the way that guy treated you."

He looked away. Rubbed his thumb over the plastic wrapper in his palm and rested the candy on the counter. "And I flirted. Tried to act cool. When I saw you at the apartment. Which was a dick move. I should've just asked if you were okay."

A long beat passed.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk. No pressure, no weirdness—I just figured maybe we could be friends. I mean... we already share people."

Milly looked down at the candy on the counter. Then back up at him.

His eyes held no performance. No slick lines.

But still—would that be a good idea?

She wasn't sure.
Not yet.

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Do you think Milly was right to call out the women at the register? What would you have done in her place?

Should Milly give Matty a chance at friendship?

What moment hit you the hardest in this chapter?