by Sue Johnson
I saw him on the balcony of his friend’s flat. Jed. The nicest guy I’ve met in a long time, once you got past the moodiness. I stopped replying to his texts because I didn’t know how to tell him about the baby.
“Go and see him, Sylvie. You know you miss him,” said my friend Eve.
Jed saw me and raced down the metal stairs from the balcony.
“You may not be so pleased to see me when you hear what I’ve got to say,” I said when we were sat in the Salt Box Café.
My lips felt dry. “I’m pregnant…”
From the look on his face you’d think I’d told him he’d won the lottery.