You Don't Deserve My Deep Love

On the way to my prenatal checkup, I fished a pair of stockings out of the gap beside the passenger seat. They weren't mine. The inside of the windshield still had two smeared prints from a woman's feet. Thinking about what they'd done in here, I shoved the car door open, stumbled out, and threw up until I couldn't see straight. Right then, Lucas's phone rang. The car's Bluetooth picked up automatically, and his friend's voice came through: