She said she wanted to keep the baby—he nodded and drove her straight to a hospital.

Guilt rides on his words

Drew lowered his eyes as if my answer had hit him. His shoulders slumped slightly, and for a moment he seemed to find the floor more interesting than me. "I do," he finally said, barely above a whisper. "But sometimes that's not enough, is it?" There was a weary resignation in his voice that made me shiver. This kind of truth was no consolation - it was a quiet farewell disguised as a confession. I could feel my throat getting tight, but I forced myself to stand firm. "Maybe not," I replied calmly. "But you could at least have trusted me to fight with you - not against you."

Guiding suggestion

Drew's suggestion echoed in the air, empty and awkward. "Advice?" I repeated, quieter this time, but every word dripped with disappointment. He nodded tentatively, as if he knew himself how weak that sounded. "I just thought... maybe someone from the outside will help us." But I could see in his eyes that he didn't believe in help - he was just looking for a way out, a way to put responsibility in someone else's hands. "You don't want to talk, Drew," I finally said in a shaky voice. "You want someone else to do it for you." The thought choked my throat - not because I hated him, but because I could feel him slowly giving up.