Max wasn't sure how he'd done it, but that morning at nine, Tony Stark knocked on her door and told her she had an appointment at noon to see a doctor. Having spent last night alone again, she wasn't even sure how to respond to the news. Blankly, Max had nodded and shut the door, which she then sat against for a long time, her hands limp on her lap, her stare far away. It had been much easier to talk about termination, but now that it was staring her down, less than a few hours away, she found it difficult to move—to breathe.

Last night, Jane had informed her that Loki was hiding out in their room, moody and volatile and rambling about anything and everything. She could have been the bigger person and approached him, but when she'd thought about it, she wasn't sure what she would say. He'd want to talk about it, and they'd talk and talk and talk in circles until they were both spent, and then they'd be in the same position that they were at the time. So, Max had left him be, figuring he'd need a little more time to mull everything over. Besides, with her aching back and throbbing feet, it hadn't been a difficult decision to crawl into bed after dinner and just stay there, eventually falling asleep to the hum of the air conditioning.

Sue had found her around ten that morning, and the two women sat on Max and Loki's bed for a little while. She'd asked Max how she was feeling, if she was ready to go, if she wanted anything. Again, she wasn't completely present: Max nodded and gave one word responses, but she wouldn't let herself get emotional. After Sue left her, she'd hopped in the shower and stood there under the hot water, a small part of her excited that this might be the last day she was in constant pain.

After, she dressed in a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt, stuffing one of Loki's baggy borrowed shirts in her small duffel bag—again, a borrowed item. She wasn't sure what to bring with her, but Tony said she'd be in the hospital until the early evening, so it wasn't like she'd need to bring much. Clothing aside, she knew what she wanted with her, or who she wanted.

Nibbling her lower lip, Max left her bag by the elevator and carefully padded down the hall toward Thor's room. The door was open, the room quiet, and she spotted Loki seated on a chair near the window. Slumped down and legs sprawled out, he looked tired. Feeling uncomfortable simply walking up to him, Max knocked on the doorframe and waited until he glanced back.

"Hi." Her voice cracked when she spoke, and when he fixed his gaze back on the window, she took that as a sign that she could come in. This suite was much bigger than hers, but she figured it would be: three, now four, people occupied it. The air around him felt heavy, and once she stopped beside him, she noticed her hands were shaking.

Max waited a few moments for him to say something, anything, and when the silence became deafening, she cleared her throat.

"So," she said softly. Her eyes were heavy, like she'd slept too much but needed a few hours more. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but I… I'm going to see a doctor today about… what we talked about."

He looked up at her slowly, his eyebrows climbing his pale forehead.

"I set the appointment for next week initially, because I thought… we… I don't know what." It was hard to stay the course when he was staring at her so intensely that her trembles traveled down to her knees. "But Tony… Stark told me I should do it soon, and he mentioned Osborn and that the tower is bugged, so… I guess I just got scared."

Her lower lip wobbled when she noticed his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrest.

"Can you say something?" He wasn't looking at her anymore, his jaw firm and set. "Please?"

He licked his lips in response, shuffling around on the chair, and Max sighed.

"Sue agreed to come with me," she told him, "and Stark's going to drive—"

"Well," he mused coolly, speaking up at last. "It sounds like you have everyone you need then, doesn't it?"

A shocked puff of air slipped out of her gaping mouth, and as tears sprung to her eyes, she brushed them away quickly.

"Yeah… Apparently."

Obviously not. Obviously she wanted him to hold her hand. Was that not clear? Loki made her brave. He'd made her brave from the moment he grabbed her in the stairwell and pulled her gas mask off. He gave her more courage than anyone ever had, than she could find on her own, and she didn't want to do this without him.

But she would.

When he looked up at her again, the anger had eased to the background, and Max could see the pain on his face now. She waited, arms folded and stomach knotted, for him to say something else. To take another jab, to be sarcastic, to be hurtful—maybe to surprise her. But all he did was watch her, perhaps waiting for her to do the same thing.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to crawl into his lap and bury her face against his chest. She wanted him to hold her again. But maybe she wanted too much—she shouldn't, and wouldn't, push him for more than he'd give freely.

So, she left. She couldn't come up with a farewell, any parting words, and just as she reached the door, she heard him say her name. Loki was on his feet, arms hanging by his sides, and she raised her eyebrows, waiting. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Loki finally pressed his lips together and shook his head. He rounded on the spot to face the window, hands clasped behind his back, and she felt her heart break. The only thing that she could do as she stalked to the elevator, her palms sweaty and hands shaking, was tell herself that this was temporary—hopefully nothing more than a major stumbling block that they could slowly work around.

She knew she'd need to regain his trust, but as she stepped into the open elevator, bag in hand, and pressed the button for the communal floor, she decided that he'd need to be open to other ideas too—particularly ones that involved their future.

That is… if he still saw a future. The thought of one without him made her chest tight, and as she leaned back against the railing, she tried to push those types of thoughts out of her head. Rather than stopping at the floor she selected, however, the elevator kept going, the basement light turning on suddenly.

"Apologies, Miss Wright." Jarvis's smooth voice echoed out of the speaker in the ceiling, and she tilted her head back. "Mr. Stark wishes to show you his new car. I hope you don't mind the detour."

"Uh…" Did she really have a choice? "No, that's fine."

The lift didn't stop until she reached the basement level, and when it opened, she found herself staring at an expansive parking lot filled with pricey vehicles. Man, if only looters knew about this place during the invasion. Everyone would be driving a Rolls Royce or a Mercedes or… any other flashy car that Max knew nothing about. Gripping her duffel's handle tightly, she stepped out into the dimly lit lot, her confidence low until she spied Sue waiting by a dark blue car. Sporty and chic, it didn't look like it had back seats as she approached.

"I told him a two-door is not an appropriate vehicle to pick someone up from the hospital in," Sue remarked, taking her bag and setting it in the trunk. Inside the vehicle, she noticed Tony and his bodyguard seated in the front.

"It's fine," she muttered, holding herself awkwardly as Sue slammed the trunk closed. "Really."

Sue paused and touched her arm, studying Max's features with the same shrewd scrutiny that she'd always had.

"I know this is sooner than you planned," she said, "but Tony told me Osborn and his cronies are circling you. If this is what you want—"

"Let's just go." She didn't mean to sound flippant, but she wasn't in the mood to talk about it anymore. The only person she'd have this discussion with was up in the tower. "I'm okay."

Sue gave her another hard look, then turned and ordered one of the men to get out so that they could clamber into the back of the small car. Happy obliged from the passenger's side, and Max shuffled in under the seatbelt, squishing to fit in the back behind Tony.

"They haven't bugged my cars," he said, sounding somewhat pleased with himself. "In fact, I don't think they even know the basement level is open…"

She didn't have it in her to respond, but Max offered something of a genuine smile when she noticed Tony's eyes watching her in the mirror. Nodding, he turned the car on and sped through the darkness, bypassing rows of cars on the way to the main road. They were farther underground than she thought, taking a few winding tunnels to get out, but soon enough they were on Manhattan's busy midday streets.

Everything was a blur around her. They could have been taking a familiar route through the city, and Max would have no idea. Every once and a while, Sue tried to talk to her, but her head was too fuzzy for her to be much a conversationalist. When they finally arrived at the hospital, which turned out to be an upscale private clinic that Max had never heard of, Tony parked the car in the underground lot and left Happy with the keys, radio and AC running.

The inside of the hospital was a blur too. Sue took care of gathering the necessary paperwork, and when Max was told there were a number of routine tests she'd need to do before the procedure itself, she wanted to cry. Blood work. Pelvic exams. Ultrasounds. The procedure itself would only take a half hour, but everything leading up to it would take up the majority of the afternoon.

"We're going to be putting you out with a slightly heavier sedation than usual today," her new doctor, a man with scraggly grey eyebrows and no hair anywhere else, informed her. "You aren't required to be completely sedated for the procedure, but because of the… nature of the fetus, we think it will be less stressful for everyone to do so. It's not going to be really painful, but there will be some mild discomfort."

"Okay."

They were sitting in a small room now, one that she was told would be her recovery ward for an hour or two after she woke up. Sue had folded all her clothes and packed them away after she changed into a hospital gown. She wasn't sure why this doctor agreed to work with her, or how he knew so much about her case, but when she glanced at Tony Stark, who was fiddling with his phone and jiggling his legs, she figured he had an answer.

Now, the real question was how he knew so much about her predicament—and why he cared.

"You don't have to stay," she said once the doctor's thirty second consultation was over. Max had a few clipboards around her, her handwritten information in various consent sections not its usual neat self. Stark looked up with an arched eyebrow.

"I can go if you want."

Sue stepped back into the room after a temporary absence with two cups of water, and as she set them on the little table beside Max's bed, Max nodded slowly.

"Yeah, maybe."

She didn't want him there, to see her like this. She didn't want anyone to see her like this, in the midst of her panic and worry and guilt and fear and every other emotion that was struggling for dominance. Max knew this was the place she needed to be, but that didn't mean she could think straight. Her hand fell to her abdomen, and as Stark checked his pockets in the usual male "keys and wallet" way, Max doubled over and finally started crying.

"Hey, hey…" Sue forced her head up and pushed her hair away from her face. "Do you still want to do this? We can still leave—"

"No," Max sobbed, wiping under her eyes and nose, her shoulders shuddering. "No, I'm fine. I'm fine."

She nodded a few times, looking between Sue and Tony as she continued to ugly cry.

"I'm fine!"

This hospital was the last place Tony wanted to be—ever. It was the same place that Pepper had gone to during her pregnancy, and it was the place Bruce told the ambulance to rush to when she'd had her miscarriage. Just looking at it made him want to crawl into a bottle of whiskey and never resurface, but it was time to start doing things right again. After the revolution, he'd fallen off the wagon. He'd been drunk more times than sober, and he'd lost himself in dark thoughts about the love of his life now that he was back in their city.

But a few days ago, he found a box of her old things. They were tucked away in a closet in what used to be her office, and as he rooted through them, he was ashamed of the path he'd taken as of late. He was turning into a joke, his company falling more and more to ruin than it ever had been. Osborn had basically stolen his building, the building he made for him and Pepper, and Tony had let him do it.

No more. No more shrugging it off and drinking his sorrows away. After Natasha Romanoff disappeared, and Tony watched the Captain take the brunt of the media's wrath about everything that had happened with the aliens, he knew he needed to look out for his team. He might not have been much of a team player over the last couple of years, but that didn't mean he couldn't start.

So, after dealing with a mammoth hangover for a good twenty-four hours, Tony grabbed his laptop and went to work. Even if Osborn was trying to downgrade his role in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enterprise, he could still find a way to hack into their systems—their programmers weren't much better under the new regime than they were in the old one.

He was able to read up on the files of his teammates. He'd been able to redirect Natasha's babysitter, who posted daily updates on his progress in finding the "rogue, dangerous agent", to New Zealand. For all he knew, Natasha could actually be down there, but he sincerely doubted it, not when the agent had such good intelligence that she was still in the African continent. Still, all it took was a few notes here and there left behind by the agent's "superior", and the man was booking a flight to Auckland.

Bruce was due for some testing at a facility in Arizona—the plans to which were mysteriously lost and cancelled. Once Tony was through, Bruce Banner was a nobody on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s inquiry list, as was Thor—though the big Asgardian could probably handle himself. Reed Richards' kids were the next to go: Tony moved their files to an obscure location that would take the tech savvy little rodents weeks to find in their system.

In all honestly, Tony didn't give a shit about Loki's situation, but he had checked out the guy's file to satisfy his curiosity. Sure enough, other than getting the god to participate in some volunteer activities that were designed to make Osborn look good, there wasn't anything of interest. However, that led him to finding Max Wright's file, and in it he'd discovered her little secret.

Pregnant. Pregnant with Loki's baby, and she wanted to give it up before it was born. And Osborn didn't okay that. With the Avengers Tower bugged in various rooms, the group of agents assigned to her were keeping a close eye on her situation, and according to the file, they were going to give her three days to reconsider her termination procedure. Once those days were up, they'd swoop in and take her to the same medical testing facility S.H.I.E.L.D. had in mind for Bruce. From there, the general outline for the next eight months was given, and the baby, should it survive, would be kept for observation.

The whole thing didn't sit right with him. The words "forcibly remove" and "complete secrecy" and "wiped out" made him frown, made his stomach knot. At the time, Tony had sat back in his chair and sighed, running his hands through his hair. He had information that could save the woman's life—and her life was worth saving. Despite her undeniably questionable preference in romantic partners, Max Wright was an average woman who should live a life free from S.H.I.E.L.D. interference.

If anyone had tried to take his and Pepper's baby from him…

Well, at the time, he'd grabbed a beer—he couldn't just quit cold turkey—and downed it, not wanting to think about what could have been. There was nothing that he could have done to save his baby. He couldn't have saved Pepper either, but he could help this girl out. He could do a few good deeds. He could be the man Pepper always thought he was, beneath the bravado and snark.

So he'd called in a few favours. He left her file unaltered and went somewhere secure to book her a new date to do whatever she wanted to do with her pregnancy. He wasn't there to judge—Tony wanted to be neutral, but he also wanted to get her out of Osborn's clutches as soon as possible. In fact, he wanted all of them out of Osborn's clutches, but that would take more time and covert effort than scheduling an abortion.

In fact, he thought today would be smooth sailing, but once she started to bawl, Tony had to bail. It was getting too heavy for him in that recovery room, and as Max sobbed on the bed—the poor kid hadn't eaten anything today either, which probably didn't help—Sue ushered him out and told her she'd call when they were ready to be picked up.

And to bring a better car.

He grinned. Tony had always liked Sue Storm. She had a little too much spunk in the old days for Reed, but they finally seemed to be settling onto the same wavelength.

"Keep an eye out for—"

"I know," she said, her hand on the door. "Thanks for the ride, Tony."

He nodded as she shut him out, not cruelly, but to block Max's weeping, to keep it contained. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to Happy to let him know he'd be another hour or two, and then drifted down to the main floor. He grabbed a coffee from the café near the hospital gift shop, then settled into a chair by the front doors, coffee in one hand and phone in the other. Jarvis had pulled up all the recent news on Stark Industries, and Tony wanted to get back on the media's pulse about his company.

It wasn't great, but he trudged through it, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. No matter how consuming the task might be, he was never so deep in it that he wasn't aware of his surroundings. When one of the gyno nurses approached him in a pair of salmon scrubs, he tucked his phone away and looked up expectantly.

"She's in the surgery wing now," the woman said softly, bending down to address him. "You said you wanted to know…"

"Thanks," he muttered. Tony pulled a twenty out of his pocket and stuffed it into her hand. "For your effort."

Her lips pursed as she studied the bill, but no matter how affronted she might have been at being tipped, the woman still tucked it away as she strolled back to the elevators. Nodding, Tony tossed his empty coffee cup in a nearby garbage bin, then texted Happy to pull the car around front and hop in the passenger's seat—people had been driving him around for too long. It was time to take the wheel back.

Just as he made his way to the main entrance, he spotted a familiar face. Norman Osborn, flanked by a S.H.I.E.L.D. security officer, strode into the hospital, his forehead shiny with sweat. When he spotted Tony, his eyes narrowed.

"Sorry you won't have your pet project to experiment on anymore," Tony said, sighing as he strolled toward the pair. Then, before Osborn could say anything, he raised his middle finger and breezed by, turning on his heel once he was behind the bodyguard.

Osborn had stopped dead in his tracks and glowered at Tony, his thick hands in fists. "Stark—"

"I'm comin' for ya, Norman." Tony gestured between his eyes and Osborn's. Even though he was smirking, there was no lightheartedness in his gaze—it was steel. "I'm coming for you so hard… in every way."

"You don't have the balls anymore—"

"Better bulk up on your cyber-security, friend." The automatic doors flew open behind him, and Tony raised both hands now, middle fingers up. "Before you know it, everyone is gonna know what happened to Nick Fury."

He brought his fingers to his lips and kissed them, then blew it to Norman, who seemed to be quivering with rage. When his man tried to whisper something to him, he snapped so loud that the curse echoed off the walls of the greeting area. An elderly nurse at the reception desk glared.

Plopping his sunglasses onto his face, Tony turned and hopped into his awaiting car, Happy in the passenger's seat, and sped away.

When Max came to, the world was still hazy. She vaguely recalled waking up once before and falling back asleep in her hospital bed, but this time her consciousness was more willing to stick around. Sitting up slowly, she winced. The sedative was mostly losing its effect, and when she glanced at the clock, she saw she'd been in the recovery area for almost two hours now—pain relief wouldn't last forever. Head buzzing, she reached for the cup of water on the stand beside her bed, though she only took a small gulp.

Sue was nowhere to be seen, but her purse was still sitting on a chair across the room. The blinds were drawn shut, but the sun seemed desperate to poke through any opening it could find.

It was done. It was finally over—she could finally move on from this whole ordeal. Although her memories would probably become clearer the more the drugs wore off, she sort of recalled the operating room, the prick of the IV needle, and the bald doctor with scraggly eyebrows telling her to stop crying. She remembered Sue holding her hand, and pressure… everywhere. She didn't remember pain. She didn't remember going to or from the operating room. She barely recalled giving blood a few hours ago, but the cotton ball and tape were still on her arm.

Her hand drifted to her abdomen, and although there was still a slight bump, it wasn't as hard as it had been before. As she moved around on the bed, trying to gather her bearings, she noticed that there were no shooting pains down the backs of her legs, no dull ache in her lower back. There was discomfort, yes, but that was expected—or so she had been told, anyway.

As she reached for the cup to grab another sip, she noticed a folded slip of paper by the small lamp. Max grabbed it with a frown, turning on the lamp to read it easier with her unfocused vision.

Max,

This is a real shame—a real disappointment.

Maybe you'll be more of a team player next time.

Yours always,

Norman Osborn

She dropped the paper and brought her hand to her mouth, muffling her sobs. It was a shame. It was a disappointment. This whole situation was a lot of things, and she didn't think she'd have any tears left to shed. There was an emptiness in her now, as if a true part of her had vanished, but there was also relief, and both parts struggled for power.

The more she cried, the more her sedation wore off. She could feel the ache in her womb, the throbbing around her pelvis, but it was manageable—anything was compared to what she'd endured for the last month or so. Once she was on her feet, she nodded, annoyed that to her mistake, her lower back was still sore.

Sue arrived with food—glorious take-out from the hospital cafeteria—a half hour later, and after she helped Max change into her regular clothes, the two sat on her rumpled sheets and ate in silence. The meatballs were spicy and the noodles sat in watery tomato sauce, but it was delicious. Her doctor swung by eventually to give her a prescription for some medication to take for the next two weeks, along with some notes on what to expect once she was home.

"All in all, the procedure went well," he said, scribbling something on a clipboard as she watched him. "See me in three weeks for a follow-up, and make sure you get some rest tonight."

And that was it. He was gone. Sue lent her an arm to lean on as they made their way out of the hospital, and true to his word, Tony Stark showed up with a four-door vehicle this time with ample room in the backseat. As they pulled away from the curb, Max made a mental note that she never wanted to see that building again, even for a follow-up. She'd find another doctor—maybe see Donna Fisher instead, if that was still allowed. No one asked her how she was feeling, and she figured her face said more than words could. Streets and avenues and buildings and people were blurred on the way back to the Avengers Tower, as much as they were when she left.

Loki was nowhere to be seen. Not in the parking lot under the tower. Not in the elevator where she ran into Johnny. Not in their room when Sue dropped her off. Nowhere. She dragged herself over to their bed and sat on the end of it. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be sitting on this bed—she wanted her bed. She wanted her apartment. She wanted to call her dad and cry, and she wanted to get as far away from Norman Osborn as possible.

Her eyes darted around the room, and she wondered where the little microphones were hidden. Were there video cameras too? Could they see and hear all her most recent drama?

She needed to get out of here.

And she wanted to be sedated again. It was nice not to feel.

Max wanted a drink. There were dozens of bars scattered across the tower—shouldn't be too difficult to find something.

Time ticked on. Curled up on her side, her eyes heavy, she was just about to crawl off the bed when she noticed a presence looming in the doorway. Sitting up carefully, she winced when she met Loki's gaze, and watched as his eyes trailed up and down her body.

"It's done then, is it?"

There was no discernable emotion in his voice. No sorrow. No anger. No sympathy. Nothing. She swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Yeah."

He stepped into the room and perched on the armchair near the door, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, chin on his clasped hands.

"I feel awful," she croaked as she ran a hand through her hair. "Thanks for asking."

His jaw clenched as she shuffled to the end of the bed. Max tried not to struggle in front of him when she clambered to her feet, but it was difficult not to stagger, not to falter. He made no move to help her either, which hurt.

"I think it's… it's time to go home," she said as she grabbed her duffel bag and pried it open. "I feel like I'm… overstaying my welcome here. Pat's alone, and I think it's best if I go home."

She wasn't sure what to take. Wobbling over to the closet, she stuffed whatever she could grab in the bag, all the while feeling Loki's eyes on her. When she was finished there, she popped into the bathroom, pausing to crouch over the sink, her face screwed in pain, before grabbing whatever else she used regularly. When she returned to the main room, Loki remained unmoved.

"You can come with me, if you want," she told him, her voice shaky. "I know you're angry and upset with me, and I-I get that. I really do. It's fair for you to… feel however you feel, but you can be angry and give me the silent treatment with me, if you want."

He wasn't looking at her. Instead, his gaze wandered along the windows, the sun setting slowly behind them.

"So… You're… going to stay here?" In the Avengers Tower? On Earth? Somewhere nearby? She waited, her duffel's handle balancing on the ends of her fingers. "Loki…"

Her voice cracked when she said his name, and he slowly closed his eyes. Sniffling, she made her way over to the writing desk and grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling her address and phone number on it—just in case.

"You know where I am."

She folded the paper and set it on the armrest. Still he didn't look up at her. In the silence before she left, she was about to tell him that she loved him, thinking that he might need to hear it.

And then it dawned on her that he had never said it back. He'd never told her that he loved her—not once. Her gaze hardened, her heart hammered, and she stalked out of the room without looking back. Once she reached the foyer in front of the elevator, she paused.

Waiting a whole minute felt like hours. She watched the hallway, her stomach in knots and her head pounding, and when there was no sign of him, she pressed the elevator button. In the time it took for the lift to arrive, Max still watched for any sign of him, any last-minute effort to say something—anything—to her.

Nothing.

Exhausted, she sidled into the elevator and punched the button to the ground floor. On the way down, she asked for Jarvis, feeling stupid, but when his voice answered through the speaker, she asked if he could order her a car. It was going to be the last time she used Tony Stark's town cars, and with the way she was feeling all around, it felt like the best option for her ride back to her apartment—her real apartment.

She knew she wasn't supposed to be too active after the kind of day she'd had, and by the time she was standing in front of her door, she wanted to collapse and sleep the year away. Inside, she could hear the water running, dishes rattling against one another, and she realized she didn't even have a key anymore. Hers was lost somewhere in the city, along with the rest of her old purse and phone—or it might still be in her locker at work.

So Max knocked. The water stopped running, the dishes ceased clinking, and she saw the light blotted out temporarily through the peephole. When Pat opened the door for her, Max's face wrinkled, her breath coming out in short, stuttered gasps. Pat nodded, her own eyes watering, and grabbed her bag with her good arm, the other still in its wrappings.

"Me too," she said wearily as Max shuffled into the familiar space. They fell onto the couch, arms wrapped around one another. Nausea clung to Max's throat, its sensation almost comforting. It was something she'd grown used to. She curled up against her best friend, unable to say a word. Pat sniffled and bowed over her, shuddering through her own tears. "I'm so happy you're home."

Max nodded. What else was she supposed to do? To say? So, she nodded a few times over and hugged Pat tighter, feeling as though this day had dragged on for an eternity.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This was definitely the most controversial thing I've ever written. Ever. It's definitely ruffled some feathers out there, but I didn't do it for that. I did it because I wanted to spark some intelligent discussion about the choices women face in the lives, about the issues that real relationships are up against and the way couples handle themselves during these ups and downs. I know people read romance storylines because they want a happily ever after, and this probably wasn't it. All I can say is that the story evolves, lives change, and there's always hope for something, for the light at the end of the tunnel.

I'm not a sadist. I don't just write drama for the sake of tugging at feels. I don't just throw a storyline in there because I think it will shock people or upset them—and I never purposefully hope for either. I don't want to upset people in the wrong way. My decisions here aren't personal attacks on how readers feel about issues. People have gotten emotional about the story. Good. I was emotional planning it. I get upset about things to. I've listened to angsty songs and been all weepy and pathetic while plotting things out. It means something to me that people have been invested and emotional about this. It truly, truly does.

I debated leaving my response to some of the more recent reviews out, but hey, why not keep it in? I wrote it before I wrote this chapter after waking up and reading a bunch of reviews in a row that I felt the need to respond to, even if it was only writing it down to get the thoughts out of my head.

Please note: the following was written after getting a bunch of reviews that were a little aggressive, a little hurtful, and I wanted to respond collectively. It's longwinded, because it was the heat of the moment, but I stand by what I wrote.

So, I have had a number of supporters for Max's final decision, and then a whole slew of people calling her incredibly selfish. Normally I don't want to jump in and defend a character's actions—they should speak for themselves, because I want characters to be "real" and have real flaws and make real mistakes. But I just. This was an incredibly tough decision for Max. Did we not just spend like 10+ chapters with her going back and forth, half getting excited at the prospect, then forcing herself to think logically? Her going through the pros and cons, her sometimes fantasizing about her and Loki and a family together? Her feeling guilty for wanting to terminate while also feeling relieved? Conflicted?

As someone who wants kids, it's incredibly heartbreaking for her to know that this isn't the right time. That she isn't ready. That life isn't where it should be for her to be a parent. I've talked about it with various other women (both on this site and in person) who have had to make similar decisions, usually for health reasons, about giving up (i.e. terminating) their baby for the sake of the baby's future health and their health, their financial situations, their relationship situations, etc. For people to just label the whole ordeal as "selfish" is just as insensitive to the women who go through this very real struggle as people blame Max for being.

This wasn't just a flip a coin decision. She wasn't just like, "Welp, abortion it is!" … If I portrayed that, then fuck me, obviously I did something wrong. I've read just as many heartbreaking stories of women who had to terminate a pregnancy, not because they wanted to, but because they knew they had to as I've read about women who just didn't want kids or a mistake happened with contraception.

If people didn't see that this was a struggle for Max, then maybe I need to go back and do some serious revisions. Yes, she's being selfish in some of her thinking (I won't ever deny that it was silly and selfish for her to keep something this big a secret, but she's never been great at communicating her feelings), but so too is Loki being selfish. People seem to be giving him a pass because he wanted a baby, but he literally expects her to drop her entire life and move to a whole different PLANET to be with him, and when she says that's not something she wants (because, let's remember that she grew up in a small town, went to college in another small town nearby, has had the same friends since age 14, and the biggest move she's ever made is to Manhattan at age 28, but I digress), Loki throws a fit and punishes her emotionally for it. Loki is also selfish. He's a self-centered character still, despite the growth he's made, but people seem to just gloss over that.

Okay. I'm done now.

Act Two of the story has come to a close, and we're moving on to the third. I should be able to get another update out soon, so long as my wrists stay in good condition. Thank you to everyone who continues to tell me how excited they are for my book! It's off getting a final beta read and a proofread at the moment, so I'm looking forward (somewhat anxiously, I guess) for the results of that.

Love you guys heaps and heaps, and I'll see you again real soon!