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Micki

Mathéo’s face falls and I see his whole body switch to fight or flight within seconds. “But ... you’re one hundred percent sure?”

He rubs his eyes with his free hand, pinches the bridge of his nose and leans against the wall. “I’ll have to discuss this with work first, I’ll call you back.” Shaking his head, he listens to the woman on the other end of the line. I notice my own nervousness rising, as my body starts to tingle and my skin feels too tight. Something is not right here. Not at all.

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I know if I can keep the appointment tomorrow.” The moment the conversation is over, Mathéo slides down the wall with a blank stare. “Fuck.”

“What happened?” Until ten seconds ago I was determined to stay calm, now my voice is shaking nervously.

“I can’t do this. Micki, I’m serious. I can’t do this!”

When Mathéo calls me by my first name, it’s serious. It’s like when my parents call me Michael. What was nervousness two minutes ago changes to fear. I crouch down in front of Mathéo, my hands on his knees. “Do what? What happened?”

“I... the youth welfare office says... I don’t understand it myself, okay? And the woman said she can’t tell me everything on the phone, but... there’s been an accident and there’s a child, my child, the woman said... and it needs a home.” I try to sort out the information in my head, but there are too many gaps to really make sense of it all. “I can’t do it, I can’t raise a child, I... I’m sure I’ll be a terrible father, like my own, and I don’t want to do that to anyone.”

“Is it your child? With an ex? How do they know you’re the father?”

“The mother had a custody order that named me as the father. I didn’t understand half the words and she spoke French.” Mathéo is completely lost and clearly floundering. But, if we want to figure this out, we have to think logically. His hand grabs mine and he squeezes tightly. “Micki, I don’t want this.”

“Do you... do you know who the woman is and how old the child is?” Talking to Mathéo about his past love life was definitely not on my agenda. I know that he loves me and that’s what sets me apart from all the women before me, but the sheer number is overwhelming.

“Danielle. We had a thing before I met you. She was the last woman before you. She’s... I can’t believe she’s dead. Shit, she was your age.” Tears mingle with the bright blue of Mathéo’s eyes and his lower lip trembles.

“Do you know what happened?” His shake of the head is enough of an answer for me. “Did you know Danielle was pregnant? Didn’t you use protection?”

“The last time we were together, the condom broke, that’s why I got tested before we ditched them. Danielle said she’d take care of it and I believed her.” Obviously she didn’t.

“Did you... did you know each other well?” Oh God, I hate everything about this conversation. I can feel my jealousy brewing into a raging tornado, ready to destroy anything that comes my way. But that’s not helpful at all. As is seems, Mathéo is forced to make a decision that could turn his whole life upside down and all I can do is stand by and hold his hand.

Lost in thought, he shrugs his shoulders. “We’ve been seeing each other on and off for over a year. Just sex, but I think she wanted more. She told me about herself from time to time, but I wasn’t really interested.”

Yeah, another little reminder that my boyfriend was an asshole before he met me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel better. Does that make me an asshole accomplice? Probably, but I don’t care.

“I have to get going. I have to sort out if I can go to this appointment.” He stands up slowly and I follow him.

“Would you like me to come with you?”

Mathéo jerks his head up. “You’d do that?”

I put my arms around his neck, and he immediately falls into my touch. “Without a thought.”

My first patient doesn’t arrive until 11 am today and I’m still at home when Mathéo sends me a message saying that we have to be in Dijon at 9 am tomorrow morning. While I wait to hear back from work if I can take a day off tomorrow, I open Google. The story is tossing and turning in my head, maybe I’ll find something.

It doesn’t take long before I find the first articles. Fuck.

YOUNG MOTHER HIT BY TRAIN AT RAILROAD CROSSING. 25-YEAR-OLD KILLED INSTANTLY, BABY MIRACULOUSLY ONLY SLIGHTLY INJURED.

According to investigations, Danielle B.’s car was hit by a train at an unrestricted level crossing near Dijon in the early hours of the morning. While the mother died on scene, her eight-month-old daughter was only slightly injured and taken to a hospital. It is still unclear why the car was on the tracks in the first place; according to the police, the traffic lights were intact. The authorities hope to gain further information by questioning the train driver. Once again, there are calls for all level crossings to be closed, but it should be noted that this was a farm track. It is still unclear why the young woman was driving there at all.

The article is from five days ago. Mathéo has a daughter. Wow.