Tears Are For the Weak

She held onto him tightly, trying to make it seem like she wasn't clinging to him for dear life. She wanted to say everything on her mind, she wanted to shout it all out. She almost wanted to cry-- no, she couldn't cry. She wouldn't allow herself to do that. Only the weak cried. Her mouth opened slightly, and she almost expected the words to flow out without her control.

"Cal," she whispered.

Cal...oh, god, Cal, I can't do this. I'm not ready. I'm scared. God, I'm so scared. Cal, baby, I need your help... I just can't do this. I'd be an awful parent. I'd end up screwing the kid's life up so badly. Cal, I'm so scared...

She fought back the urge to tear up, reminding herself that only weak people cried.

"Yes, dearest?" the soothing voice broke through her cloud of thoughts like a ray of sunlight.

"I, um, nothing..."

Then again, maybe being weak wouldn't be so bad.