Page 103 of Lovesick


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Not even a breath too sharp.

He smiles.

And I hate it.

I hate how strong he is.

How unbroken he is.

Because it means they’ll never stop testing how far they can push him.

Something dark and raw swells beneath my ribs, guilt so heavy it feels like it’s dragging my lungs down, filling them up with sand, drowning me from the inside. My hands grip my stomach so hard my fingers ache. The baby shifts inside me again, fluttering, rolling, like he’s uncomfortable, frightened, sensing my terror.

I lean forward slightly, pain shooting up my spine, pounding knocking in the base of my skull, making my eyes momentarily flare white. I’m trembling so violently I barely register the moment my water breaks.

It happens like a betrayal.

Like the final snap of something inside me.

Heat floods down my legs, sudden and terrifying.

People around me gasp and step back.

I look down at the spreading liquid, and for a moment, I don’t understand.

Then pain seizes me, white-hot, spearing, ripping from spine to stomach, slicing through me like an axe. I stagger forward, my breath shatters, and a scream tears itself from my chest without permission.

“No, no, no. Not now.”

But it’s happening.

It’s happening now.

Here.

In this nightmare.

Panic detonates inside me like an atomic bomb, my hands fly to my belly, my back arching, then curling forwards, my hands on my knees. Voices blur in the background, light filters out. And I look up, seeing Gore pause, and Billy lifts himself to one knee,flinching as if he’s been shot, turning towards me so fast the world tilts with him.

He tries to run toward me, I see it in his eyes, but he can’t, his back, his wounds, his body won’t obey.

But he crawls.

He fuckingcrawls.

In front of everyone.

On his knees.

For me.

Showing his hand. Revealing the cards he’s always held so very close to his chest.

He drags himself across the stone dais, through the splintered shards of winter sunlight, inching towards me.

“Penelope!” he shouts, voice breaking open. “Penelope, I’m here, I’m coming!”

He would reach me, he would crawl through fire to reach me, but Gore gets to me first, dropping the whip and marching through the crowd. He scoops me up before I can fall fully to the ground. His arms strong, trembling with fear and urgency.