“Amelia’s pregnant and she’s keeping the baby.”
The world fucking stops. A baby.
“Mine?”
“Who else would it be?”
“You’re lying.”
“Nope, I saw the scan and everything.”
She doesn’t waver and I believe her.
“She wasn’t going to tell me?”
“No. And if she had her way, you’d never know.”
Was that why she showed up here last week? Gripping the edge of the coffee table for something to remind me this shit is real, I lose it. Tipping the lot as I jump up to my feet, Clare leaps forward, shrieking, “The coke!”
“Get the fuck out of here!” I bellow.
Amelia was right to be concerned about her friend with the white shit. She’s taken to it much more than anyone I know, and she has a habit.
“How long have you known?”
“A week.”
A fucking week?
“You didn’t think to tell me sooner?”
“You’re not exactly the type to hold down conversations and she’s my best friend.”
Yeah right, some best friend she is. I wouldn’t say she’s any type of friend to her, let alone the best one.
Digging my car keys out of my pocket, I’m at my car before I can blink. I pushed Amelia away to protect her from this life, from me, and now we’re tied together for the rest of our lives anyway.
It barely registers driving across the city, or when I park up across the street from Amelia’s house. Peering through her gates, her father’s car isn’t on the drive, only her blood red Porsche.
I don’t give her the opportunity to keep me locked out, jumping up, I climb the gates easily enough and dart across the front lawn. Standing below her window, I shoot her a text.
I’m outside. Let me in.
Her window lights up, but no reply comes through, nor does she come down to let me in.
I text her a second time and still, I get nothing back.
Fuck this. She’s talking to me tonight.
Giving the trellis up to her a window a pull, it’s sturdy and I climb up, no doubt fucking up the roses as I go.
Opening her window is too easy and I slip inside without any trouble, finding her stood in the middle of her room with her phone in her hand looking even more beautiful knowing a part of me is growing inside of her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps.
“When I said to let me in, I wasn’t asking.”
“What do you want?”
