It's Funny How Things Turn Out (Rihanna,Drake)

Prologue

Four years ago

“I don’t want it”

those bitter words came from his sweet mouth.

“And… I don’t think you want it, either.”sighing heavily, he shakes his head and looks at

me.

He’s got such brown eyes. We’ve been dating for six months but those eyes, when focused so intently on me, still affected me.

“Robyn”

“Yes”

“You know the deal. Come on”

Frowning slightly, I avert my eyes. “Well, I mean. It was never something we discussed.”

“Because it was never supposed to happen. But, listen. I’m not angry with you. Okay?

I’m not.”

The confidence that once attracted me to him, now feels more like arrogance, and if I’m honest, it probably always was, “Thank God for that” I say irritated, letting the rising tide of hurt and anger wash through my words.

Michael shifts, folding his arms. “you’re not considering keeping it, are you?”

“It’s not really an it, is it?”

Michael sneers. “Don’t start that shit.”

I close my eyes, rub my hands over my face.

“I get why this is hard for you,” he continues. “But it…we can take care of this. I’ll go with

you, if you want.”

My chest tightens, almost unbearably. This is unfolding exactly as I’d expected, and yet it hurts way worse.

Minutes pass. Michael is silent now, seemly lost in thought, scrolling through his phone, probably answering texts ,checking twitter and making plans. He smiles faintly from time to time, probably already moving on. His phone beeps and he grins, shaking his head at whatever he’s just read.

Nothing happens, but everything happens: a silent snap, a perfect numbness, a perfect clarity. I realized that this thing with Michael is already over, and that kind of hurts. But it’s also a relief from the past couple days of depression and uncertainty.

I stand up, adjust my bag and smooth my hair back. I allow myself one last glance at the guy I thought I could maybe fall in love with one day, despite our difference schedules.

“Robyn”

“Its okay, Michael. I think… this wasn’t going to work anyway.”

He followed me to the door. His fingers tightening around my arm. “You’re seriously ending this because I don’t want to have a kid with you? What- what are you doing?”

I’m tired. This conversation makes me more tired. The euphoria I felt moments ago is fading, and I don’t want to be around Michael when it’s gone. “I’m doing what I would’ve done eventually. We don’t belong together.”

“If you do this, if you have this kid, I don’t want to have nothing to do with it. I mean it, Robyn. This isn’t my choice; it’s not what I want.”

That was shitty. After all it’s the freedom of choice, isn’t it? I make my choice and he makes his.

“Fine”