“Come on, baby…why do you always do this to yourself? Why can’t you just be happy? He makes you happy, doesn’t he?” There was a long silence in the room that was almost deafening before the male voice spoke up again. “So, what, now you aren’t talking to me?” There was another pause. “You know that you won’t be able to keep that up. I will sit here and keep talking to you until you can’t stand it anymore, so you might as well give in now and shut me up… Fine. You have never let me influence how you felt about anything or anyone before, so what’s changed? I am not going to apologize for the way that I feel about him, but that doesn’t mean you have to sit here and depress yourself into a stupor. If he doesn’t make you happy, then you shouldn’t be with him – pregnant or – not…”
“Oh, John, will you shut up?!” she called out as she lifted her head just enough to bang it back down roughly on the arm of the couch on which she was laying. “That’s not what this is about. He makes me happy otherwise I would not be with him. You know me better than to even doubt that much.”
“Told you I would get you to talk…” he said with a smirk before leaning back somewhat sideways against the back of the couch and dropping his arm over her bare legs. “So, then, what is this about? Because you swore up and down to me, months ago, that when and if you got married and pregnant – you were going to give this up. Now, you are working yourself harder than ever and claiming you don’t want to get married? That’s not you, Baby… You won’t tell anyone – you act like you are proud of that bump, but you hide it when you go out… you’re faking it harder than I’ve ever seen you fake anything in my life, Blake, and if you don’t think he can’t see that... you’re wrong… If he loves you…”
“He’s 22, Johnathan!” She said in a sudden outburst before falling silent for another few seconds as she focused her eyes on the material of the couch. “I don’t want him running his life because of me…I’m curse on his life. Nothing but bad has come into his life since I did…”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at her.
She was slow to start and slow to finish, but she did answer him. “He got into a car accident – almost died - lost his movie – gained a vicodin habit – almost lost Addison…”
“…none of that is your fault…”
“Almost lost this kid because I was stupid, has photographers in his face constantly, has no privacy, has no personal life…”
“Blake, stop it! None of that is your fault. You can’t blame yourself…”
“If he wouldn’t have wanted to do something nice for me, John, none of this would have ever happened. …I’m not going to trap him into a relationship.”
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