by Taylor Ashbrook
Carla stood on the rocks. Her long strawberry hair was pulled up in a swirl of curls on top of her head, early streaks of gray shining like highlights. It was odd: no wind. That didn’t happen often by the ocean. Very quiet. Her flowing, white dress spread around her, wrapping her aching breasts and aching belly in charm and grace. The sun was starting to freckle her shoulders and arms. She’d forgotten sunscreen today.
My wedding or my escape, she thought. Until she’d stood there, looking at the gently swaying sea below her, she’d thought they would be the same thing. Now she knew they were two different choices. She couldn’t really marry the waves and rocks below her. She could marry her baby. Or she could step over the edge and escape.
He hadn’t wanted the baby. He hadn’t wanted the baby more than he’d…
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