Prologue.

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N O V E M B E R    2 0 1 6

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Living with religious parents might be a comforting thing for most kids. My mum told me frequently that believing in religion, in God and Jesus, and living as they did gave her purpose.

'God and Jesus do not expect us to be perfect, Aspen. That would be silly. But they give us rules to follow, to be better people. Jesus died for our sins. We must not let him down.' In theory, she has a point. But I don't know if I believe in it.

But there is one thing she might be right about: 'You will always harvest what you plant. Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit.'

I remember Mum telling me all about you 'reap what you sow.' She gave me a two-hour lecture when I told her it was the same as karma. Never did I make that mistake again, especially when she dragged me to church and forced the vicar to talk about their differences. Four years after that, I still believe they are the same. The fundamental belief of 'reaping what you sow' is all about blessings and consequences. The belief in karma is about the cause and effect of everything you do. So they are, to me, the same.

The Church of England has moved along a lot over the years, but there are some very devout believers, like my mother, I've come to learn.

Now that I'm staring at the white stick on the kitchen table, I know I believe in karma, at least.

Joel sighs and runs a large hand over the stubble he can't be bothered to shave. His blue eyes dart from one side of the room to the other, unsure of where to settle. The blood thumps around my body, making me a little breathless. My black-haired, blue-eyed, tattooed boyfriend of a month. Mum would never approve of him; she didn't even want me living here, but I had no choice. It didn't take us long to rebel and get drunk and fall into the trap of desire.

I stare at the test. Who would think two pink lines could be a figurative death sentence?

"Positive," I announce.

He walks over and picks up the stick, inspecting it like it was a clue for Scooby-Doo. "Who'd have thought?"

"That's what I get for not listening to my parents, huh? They told me don't have sex before marriage. This is what I get," I retort quietly.

"I mean, no, it's my fault for not using protection." He crouches in front of me, lacing our hands together. "I mean, I get that your family might not...agree with this, but we—you have options, Aspen."

"It doesn't feel like it. I can feel the judgements already," I whisper.

Joel chuckles before gripping my hands. "Sarah will be like, 'Graham, look what we did! We didn't raise her right.'  Despite the fact, you know, life happens." He uses the same high-pitched, rabid voice he always uses when mocking my mum. It's to make me laugh, but right now, though he's joking, it doesn't feel funny like it normally would.

"If they find out I contemplated a termination, they'd probably disown me," I point out.

He puts his free hand on my cheek until I look into his eyes. "Then are they worth it? Really? Look, you don't have to make any decisions now, but we have options. You can choose. This doesn't change how badly I want to explore things with us. I'm all in for whatever you want."

I can see the way his icy sparkles deepen when he says the words as if he's trying to make me believe him.

"Why're you such a good person?" I groan. "This makes everything harder."

I find myself engulfed in his arms. His hands rub my back as he speaks. "I'm not a good person, I'm just... real. I'm not going to lie — having a baby right now would be... difficult. But if that's what you want, we'll make it work. We'd be great parents. If you don't think you want to do it right now, we'll work it out. Whether that's a termination or otherwise, Aspen, it's doable. Do not let your parents' beliefs control you when they don't reflect your own."

I grip his shirt while he kisses my hair. Although we call ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, this is not the time to be discussing such things.

This is the consequence of giving in to temptation just like Eve did. I took a bite of the apple and got cast out. Now I have to deal with that consequence. Do I let myself be forever judged by people for being pregnant? Do I take up the choice of termination and live with that judgement?

"I need time to think," I admit.

"We can work this out together. We'll take as much time as you need. Don't worry about what your parents think. This isn't their decision, okay?" He moves back so I can search his eyes. I find hope in them.

Whichever path I take, it's not going to be pretty. Nothing I do now will have a happy ending.

'Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.'

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