One definition of wealth, is simply put as being in a state of richness and affluence. I like to call it currency that gets you nice jewelry, dresses, parties and potential suitors. Where you may have infinite possibilities with all things shiny and beautiful, there is always a limit to how long they can make you happy. I know for a fact that things change when you get a glimpse of how one lives without it all.

Early on in my pregnancy, I found myself sitting in my hotel room. Not because I was afraid someone would recognize me here in Switzerland, but more because I lacked the energy to walk around the city. For the first couple months, I looked out the window and dreamed of what the city had to offer.

When I could finally peruse the shops without stopping to throw up, I finally found a small cafe to sit in. It had stone walls, many large windows and looked like a comfortable place to be alone. With no socials to attend to, or no one to criticize me, I found it the most suitable time to get some writing done.

When available, I often chose the table that had been blocked by a half wall in the back of the building. According to the owner, the area was sometimes used for private meetings or money deals. It didn't happen often, nor did anyone ever ask to use it as a private writing area. At least not until now.

Sighing, I returned to the familiar table and pulled out the paper and pen from my bag. The more days that passed, the more I found I enjoyed being alone. As long as I didn't stay away too long, Aunt Rosamund wouldn't come looking for me. Having an unknown spot that had yet to be discovered had allowed me the freedom to be invisible.

In fact, the feeling of invisibility was nothing out of the ordinary. In a family of royalty, I had always felt like the odd duckling. I guess it came with the territory when you were offered unsolicited advice without asking. Yet, there was a peace being away from home and not being criticized for doing what you love.

"Here's your cup of tea." The waitress had blonde curly hair down to her shoulders, plump lips that parted into a natural smile, bright green eyes and purple bags that suggested a few too many late nights at work. She was beautiful, and tall, with long legs and that peeked out underneath her blue dress.

"Thank you." I gave her an appreciative glance before turning back to the blank piece of paper. Okay, so it was clear that I didn't just use this time to write, but to also reflect. There was so much to think about: secrets that I had told my family, the anticipation of giving my daughter up for adoption, or even how Aunt Rosamund had helped me get to Switzerland. It was all maddening, really.

I pressed harder for words to come to me. Within minutes, I had drawn up a character that could reflect my thoughts without anyone else knowing that it was me. Her name was Abigail, a farm girl with dark locks, who

was drawn to trouble after meeting a dashing young man named Court.

Soon their relationship had taken a curve when she fell pregnant with child. It was bound to happen sooner or later as they had spent sleepless nights in the barn, often one thing leading to the other. With their hands intertwining together as they lay close on top of a bale of hay, they looked up through the glass window on the roof.

"We could runaway together." Court suggested after she had told him the news.

She rolled onto her stomach, giving a slight laugh. "And go where? We have no money."

"I'm sure we could think of something."

"We're eighteen and nineteen years old. Who do you think is going to hire us?" Abigail inquired as he placed a finger on her lips to quiet her. He gestured towards the door, where approaching footsteps caused them to hide behind barrels towards the back of the barn.

A man in stable attire hopped off his stallion, cautiously looking around as if he had heard them. "Is somebody here?" The man called out, but both Abigail and Court stayed hidden. "Hmm...I must just be hearing voices. He stuck his horse in one of the stables, then closed the doors behind him. After they were sure that the older man had left, was when they came out.

"That was close." Court whispered with a mischievous smile that broke through the shadows of the barn.

"You think?" Abigail whispered back as they crept towards the door, and looked through the slots in the wood. "Do you think we should stay here until we make sure he's gone."

He took her hand, drawing her closer for a kiss. "Perhaps. Just for a little while."

The characters and scene that I had created held a certain relief that I had been praying for. The thought of losing the person I loved, and now giving my only child up for adoption had been bothering me for quite some time.

Although I hadn't decided if the characters in my story got a happy ending, I just knew that when I got back to Downtown, things would have to change. I didn't know if I could stay in the place that I had lost my love, or even if I could really truly give up my daughter for adoption. I knew I had promised Aunt Rosamund that I would. However, doubt seeped through every bone of my body. If anything happened to this child, I would never forgive myself; for she was the only thing I had left of him.

Putting my story aside, I disregarded that afternoon was upon me as I formed a new plan. How would we support ourselves if I did decide to go to America? Somehow I knew that if Tom could be a single father and run off to America, I could do it too. I somehow doubted that he wanted to drag me with him when he left, but it was a possibility that I was willing to consider.

Pretty soon I had a plan of writing from home, or somewhere close. I thought about the possibilities of hiring a nanny while I was working, Money wouldn't be a problem for awhile, so we could afford to travel to America, find a nice house and live comfortably for awhile. The only downside was that I wouldn't have my family anywhere near me to help out if it was needed.

It would be a huge adjustment, something I knew that my mother and father wouldn't agree to, especially when they found out I was with child. But just like in my story, this big leap felt right. It was just going to take some time to make it all happen.