I didn't know where else to go.
In the end, I went to Macy.
She was at Hour Bar, the kind of place that was already awake even when the rest of the city was still half-asleep. The music was low for now, the lights dim, and only a few people were scattered inside. Dancers moved slowly on stage, shadows shifting under colored lights that hadn't fully woken up yet.
Macy was already there, sitting like she owned the place. When she saw me, she pushed a drink toward me without asking.
"Why are you here this early?" she asked, studying my face. "Something happened again?"
I looked around the bar, letting the noise fill the silence in my head. It was easier than thinking. The bass from the speakers felt like a distant heartbeat, steady but not mine.
"No," I said quietly. "I just needed to breathe."
I lifted the glass she gave me, but I didn't drink. My hand stayed halfway to my lips before I set it back down.
Macy leaned closer, her eyes narrowing. "Let me guess. Ashton again?"
Her voice carried frustration, the kind that came from watching the same story repeat too many times.
"If you're tired of it, just leave him," she said bluntly. "You're not stuck. You can walk away. Why stay next to someone who never even looks at you properly?"
I gave a small, tired laugh, but it didn't reach my chest.
It never did.
I reached into my bag and took out the folded report, placing it on the table between us.
Macy frowned immediately. "What's this?"
"Look," I said simply.
She opened it, reading carefully at first. Then her expression changed.
Her eyes widened.
"You're six weeks pregnant?" she asked, voice rising slightly before she lowered it again. "But… I thought you and Ashton—"
She stopped herself, confused.
I took the paper back before she could stare too long at it. My fingers tightened around it without meaning to.
"It happened last month," I said. "He came to pick me up after I drank too much."
Macy blinked, processing that slowly. The noise of the bar seemed louder suddenly, like the world had noticed what I was saying and didn't know how to react either.
She leaned back in her seat. "So what now?"
That question sat between us, heavy and unmoving.
I didn't answer right away.
Because I didn't know.
My mind kept circling the same empty space, no matter how many times I tried to push it away. Everything felt tangled—him, me, the bond that was supposed to mean something but often felt like I was standing alone inside it.
Finally, I shook my head.
"I don't know," I admitted.
Macy sighed, shaking her head like she already had an answer for me. "Then abort it."
The words landed too fast.
She didn't hesitate. "You and Ashton are not meant to be. And now this? It will only make things worse. You don't need to tie yourself to him any more than you already are."
I went still.
Around us, people laughed, drinks clinked, music shifted slightly louder. Life kept moving like nothing important had been said.
But inside me, everything slowed.
Abort it.
The thought echoed, sharp and strange, like it didn't belong to me yet.
I lowered my gaze to my hand resting on the table. It looked normal. Steady. But I could feel something underneath it—something small, fragile, and real.
Something I hadn't fully understood until now.
"I… need time," I said softly.
Macy didn't push further. She just watched me for a moment, then sighed again.
"Don't stay here too long," she said, softer now. "This place isn't good for you right now."
I nodded slightly.
As the crowd slowly grew louder around us, I stood up.
"You should get back to work," I told her, forcing a small smile that didn't last. "I'll sit here a little longer."
But even as I said it, I wasn't sure I meant it.
Because for the first time, staying still felt heavier than running.
Macy clearly knew I wasn't going to listen to her advice.
She sighed, took my drink, and replaced it with a glass of orange juice. Then she rolled her eyes and walked away to work.
I stayed in the corner.
As night settled, Hour Bar changed. The calm early hours disappeared, replaced by noise and heat. The crowd grew thicker, voices louder, music heavier. It felt like the whole place had started breathing differently.
Macy got pulled into work and barely looked my way again.
I watched people instead.
There was something strange about it tonight. Not dangerous at first—just tense, like the air itself was waiting to break.
I didn't notice when they came in.
I only noticed the shift.
Laughter faded. Chairs scraped back. A glass shattered. Then another sound followed—sharp voices cutting through the music until even the speakers went silent.
My gaze snapped up.
A group of men stood near the bar.
They didn't belong here.
Too loose, too confident, like they didn't care who they disturbed. Thick wooden sticks rested in their hands. Customers were already backing away, moved by instinct alone.
And at the center was Macy.
Surrounded.
Still calm.
That was what surprised me most.
She stood straight, expression unreadable as she looked at them. No fear. Just control, like she was deciding something.
"Trouble or fun?" she asked evenly.
The leader laughed.
"We came here for you, sweetheart."
He stepped closer.
His hand lifted, reaching for her face.
Everything inside me moved before I thought.
I grabbed the glass and threw it.
It hit his face.
The sound cracked through the silence.
He staggered back, clutching himself and roaring, "Who did that?!"
Every head turned.
Slowly, I stood.
"Me," I said.
I walked forward.
The noise felt distant now. The men noticed me. Macy's eyes snapped to me, sharp with alarm.
"Why are you still here?" she hissed.
I blinked at her.
She thought I had left.
"Where else would I be?" I replied.
One man scoffed. "Another brave one?"
Macy stepped slightly in front of me, protective.
"Leave," she whispered. "If this turns ugly, run."
I didn't respond.
Because I could feel it now.
The room wasn't just tense.
It was watching.
The leader wiped blood from his face, expression dark.
"What a fool," he muttered.
Macy didn't move.
Neither did I.
I looked at him quietly.
"You really came here," I said, "just to surround one woman?"
My voice wasn't loud.
But it carried.
And something in the air shifted again.