Except…
… love isnotwhat I see.
“Is it true?” he asks, void of emotion.
My heart races faster than I thought possible.
This is it.
“Dee, is… it… true?”he yells in my face, making me jump. His nostrils flare as I remain speechless. He leans down into my handbag and pulls out the test. “When were you going tofuckingtell me?”he shouts, shoving the packet into my chest.
I let out a small whimper as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, turning away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
He turns back and glares. “Sorry? The whole fucking world finds out before I do that I’m going to be a dad, and you’rewhat? Sorry?” he asks while he gazes down at my stomach.
“I… I…” There’s nothing to say. I can read between the lines of this conversation.
The stress is too much for me, and my legs give out. I fall on my already bruised and battered knees and cry out in protest. I don’t miss Colt wincing as I fall apart, crying, and rocking back and forth on the floor.
“Colt, c’mon. Can’t you see she’s terrified?” Hux states.
I cradle my knees to my chest.
“She’s terrified? For fuck’s sake… I’m fucking mortified. I don’t know how to be a dad. It’s not like we had any sort of example growing up. I can’t… I just…” He exhales and trails off while Hux pulls him away.
Sia and Kira sit on the floor with me while Hux takes Colt into the other room to talk.
The asshole doesn’t even look at me when he walks away.
And I know at that very moment…
We. Are. Done!
Chapter Nineteen
Colt and Hux have been gone for what feels like forever.
Kira and Sia are talking, but their voices are distant, background noise to the deafening thud of my heartbeat. It won’t slow. It won’t stop hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to break free. I’m not crying anymore, but that doesn’t mean I feel any better. The numbness is creeping in, slow and suffocating, swallowing me whole.
I can’t sit still.
Suddenly, I’m on my feet.
Still clutching the test, I leave the penthouse, my pulse roaring in my ears.
“Dee, wait. Do you want us to come with you?” Sia’s voice follows me, laced with concern.
I don’t answer.
I don’t look back.
The press of the key card, the sharp beep of the lock disengaging—it’s all a blur. The door slams shut behind me with a satisfying finality.
Then, I snap.
I fling the test onto the bed like it burns me, like it’s responsible for the wreckage of my life. The suitcase is open in seconds, belongings tossed inside with sharp, reckless movements. My hands shake, breath coming fast. The crushing despair twists, hardens, and turns into something more powerful. More destructive.
