"I'm done, Owen. We're done."
I opened the door, internally pleading for him to leave. The tired, broken look on his face was one that I had seen too many times, and it was suffocating me with sadness and fury. I did not run from relationships when things got good. I did not burn them to the ground. I was not scared. It was true that I had called myself "Attachment Barbie" years before. But things were different now. I was different. And yet, here I was, closing the door on the man I'd loved most of my life, praying he couldn't hear the sobs that were threatening to choke me. I was sure he was on the other side of that door, hoping I'd change my mind and let him back in. That was just who Owen Hunt was. But if he was there, he didn't make any sign of it.
That was six weeks before. For six weeks, I lived each day as a prisoner of my own rage, but after a while, my sadness and anger turned into pure panic. Owen had used me. He had slept with his ex-wife and flown halfway across the world to what, get into my pants? But I was torn—he had still flown halfway across the world. For me. Years before, I would have considered myself the luckiest girl in the world.
That week, though, I learned what he hadn't used, as I sat on my bathroom floor laughing hysterically at something that wasn't funny. Three sticks were next to me, all proudly displaying a pink plus sign, explaining everything from my emotional state, to my recent back pain, to why I'd been sick every day that week. And not just in the morning, either. It went on all day, and I swore in that moment, I had never hated anyone more than I hated the person who first used the phrase "morning sickness."
And the timing. Oh, GOD, the timing. Henry and I had never actively tried for a baby, but we sure as hell didn't do anything to prevent it. And nothing. No baby. When he died, I had hoped for weeks for a miracle pregnancy, so that I would have some part of him to hold onto. I realized later that I was wanting it for all of the wrong reasons, not to mention that I was about as un-pregnant as it was possible for someone to be.
But now, here I was. Alone in Europe, newly knocked up by my best friend, if I could even call him that now. My best friend who I had silently and desperately loved from the moment I met him. My best friend who had been getting the silent treatment from me for the past month and a half. I was over my bitterness—it was time for him to know. I owed it to the tiny person inside me to tell him. I wouldn't have wished having myself as a single mother on any child. And besides, Cristina's abortion had sent Owen into a bit of a downward spiral. He had run out of any hope of having a family. I couldn't make him live through that again.
"Tonight." I cupped my hands around the bump that wasn't even visible yet, whispering to the unborn child, whose ears hadn't even developed yet. "I'll tell your dad tonight."
I spent the remainder of the day thinking of words to say to Owen, remembering in horror the time years before that I had told him, in tears, that I had held puppies that morning and had gotten a fish instead. And by the time I decided I was ready to call, all I had come up with was, "Hey! We haven't talked in over a month, I still live a million miles and time zones away, only now I'm having your baby."
At that thought, I swore to myself that I would stop trying to force the conversation to be a scripted one, and dialed Owen's number.
I was sure that he hadn't been waiting by the phone, but he still picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?"
"H-hey," I said softly.
"Teddy? Sorry I answered so fast, I figured you were—never mind, I—sorry. Forget it. I was just waiting for a call."
Amelia. He was expecting my call to be from Amelia. My throat tightened at the thought of him going back to her.
You kicked him out, I reminded myself. He fought you on it and tried to stay and work things out and you made him leave.
"I've been trying to get ahold of you for weeks, Teddy. Where have you been?"
"Right here."
He sighed.
"Okay…I'll try that again. How have you been?"
"Pregnant." It came out before I could stop myself. "Hunt…I'm pregnant."