She hadn't told Hank. She couldn't bear the thought of it.
When the doctor had first discovered her infertility, she was devastated. Hank had been absolutely overjoyed at the prospect of fatherhood, and she took that away from him. He tried to assure her otherwise, but she knew.
It happened when she was seventeen. She had been dating a boy from one of the local public schools for seven months when they first decided to have sex. It was nice enough, and by their fifth or sixth try they had become so comfortable that it was actually good.
On what would Cordelia would remember as their last sexual experience, the condom broke. She didn't feel it. No, she found out with a sigh, capped off with smirk, "So, uh, don't freak or anything, but the condom broke."
Don't freak? She could have killed him.
A month later when her period never came, she seriously weighed the risk-reward value of a raising a child under the guidance of the guards at the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women. Instead, she broke off the relationship, to which he responded "Good. I was getting tired of waiting for you to put out again, anyway."
It wasn't more than a week before Myrtle noticed a change.
"What's wrong, dear?" The redhead hovered in the doorway.
"I…" She let out a deep sigh, "I'm fine."
"Delia, I know that not a seventeen year old in the world wants to share with the adults in their life. But please remember that I'll not judge you, little bird."
The room was quiet for two heavy minutes as Cordelia contemplated her response. Her eyes were glued to her lap as she intermittently squeezed her hands into fists, rubbing her thumbs into her palms when they relaxed.
"You won't judge me?"
"Never."
A deep breath. "I think I'm pregnant. I mean, I haven't taken a test or anything but I'm pretty sure."
"And what do you want to do?"
"I don't know. I can't have a kid right now. And what would everyone say? What would my mother say?"
Myrtle stepped forward, sitting next to Cordelia on her bed as she wrapped an arm around her chosen daughter. "We're going to figure this out, all right? Don't worry about anyone but yourself right now."
Cordelia's burrowed her head into the older woman's shoulder, nodding her head.
A week later, Cordelia entered the headmistress' office. She had made her decision.
"Myrtle?" The redhead looked up. "I want an abortion."
"I had thought you might come to that conclusion. Listen, darling. This isn't going to be easy for you." She motioned for the girl to sit. "First, I must consent to the procedure. If they don't accept my credentials as your guardian, we will need to contact your mother. Then, you're going to have to talk to someone from the clinic, and they'll give you all sorts of information. They may try to sway your decision. The next day, you are able to have the procedure. But not before a doctor gives you an ultrasound. He will not continue until you look at the image." She could see the fear in the teen's eyes. "I will be here for as long as you need me, dear."
Often when Cordelia thought of her teenage years, she'd gloss over that period. It hurt too much to remember the image of the barely formed child in her womb. But sometimes, it was all she could remember. It was especially prominent when Hank looked at her, his eyes soft with all the love the world could hold. He didn't place blame for her infertility, but he would once he found the truth of her past - or so her mind screamed at her. She wondered how the understanding and kind man she loved would change when that day finally came.