Free Worth the Risk by Anne Lange

trail ahead. The occasional bout of laughter or music from other sites trickled through the trees. They heard the scampering of four-legged animals anxious to get out of their way. An owl hooted from somewhere high above.
    The smell of the lake reached her nose before they broke out of the trees onto the sand and crossed to a formation of rocks that crowded the far northeast corner. Tanner made his way around to the other side where a point beyond a small grouping of trees lay bathed in moonlight. At night, it was breathtaking—and private. He swept out the blanket, laying it on the sand and sat in the center. She stood looking down at him for a moment, remembering.
    She swallowed, toed off her shoes, and sat down beside him.
    For a few moments, silence filled the space between them; only the sound of the water hitting the shoreline broke it. Her mind skipped back to this same beach, this same spot, many years ago. A lifetime ago. “It’s still beautiful here.”
    “I want the whole story, Molly.” His voice, pitched low, shattered the stillness. “We always practiced safe sex. I never screwed up. I’m certain of that.” Based on his rigid position, he was trying hard to contain the anger that tinged his words.
    She focused her attention on the sand sifting through her fingers. “I know you were careful. It wasn’t anything you did. One of the condoms must have been defective or broke and we didn’t realize it. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”
    She paused to take a fortifying breath before she went on.
    “A few weeks before our Christmas break, I realized I had missed my last period. When I checked the calendar, I realized I’d actually missed a few. So I took a home pregnancy test.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything until I had a chance to confirm it, and I didn’t want to alarm you in case it was a false positive.” She chanced a quick peek in his direction. He sat, facing forward, looking out over the water. He appeared indifferent, but his stiff bearing said otherwise—his full attention remained riveted on her. She returned hers to the sand.
    “We were studying for exams and making plans for Christmas. I was heading home before you, so I figured I’d get it confirmed and then surprise you. I went to my family doctor and, well…” She opened her mouth, taking in gulp of cool night air.
    “I was getting ready to tell you. I had it all figured out. I even had a little gift ready to stuff into your stocking. Then I woke up a few days before Christmas and I was bleeding.” She stopped talking, and lifted a hand to her face, wiping away a single tear rolling down her cheek. He reached over and clasped her other hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze and caressed her skin with his thumb.
    “My mom was shocked, but I think she knew what was happening. By the time we got to the hospital I had started cramping pretty bad.” She wiped away another tear. She’d never said anything about that horrible morning to anyone before now.
    “I spent a couple of days in the hospital. Mom and Dad were great. They never pressured me to discuss it or made me feel guilty for not saying anything to them…or for getting pregnant in the first place.” She paused again, her breathing a tad ragged.
    “That’s why you wouldn’t see me on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Or even the day after. I remembered how pale and sullen you were when we finally exchanged gifts. I just figured you’d had the stomach flu.” His head swung around as his gaze sought hers. “Were you still in the hospital?”
    She shook her head. “I was released mid-afternoon on the twenty-fourth. But I was in no shape to see or talk to anybody.” She swallowed a mouthful of guilt. “They wanted me to call you. When I refused, they encouraged me to talk to somebody, anybody. But I just wanted to be left alone.” Her breath hitched.
    “Why? Why couldn’t you tell me ?” His