Chapter 20
Drew – A Week Later
I heave as I hang my head over the toilet bowl, bile coming out, making me gag and heave some more at the taste. I cough and my stomach tightens uncomfortably.
For the past week, my morning sickness has gotten worse, and I swear, I’m going to kill Bellamy. This is his freaking fault. Okay, I know it takes two and all, but I was protected, I was on the pill, and he should have worn a stupid condom.
I heave and gag again as more bile comes out before I take a few deep breaths, wishing he were here and not at work, avoiding me. Maybe then I wouldn’t be wanting to skin him alive right now.
I don’t feel like we got everything out. If anything, I feel like we still have a lot to talk about.
He used his friend to avoid having a conversation about his fears. Now the ass is ensuring he isn’t around long in the mornings and in the evenings, I’m already asleep when he gets in.
I swear when I see him…
I take a few deep breaths before I slowly move away from the toilet, judging for a moment, and when I don’t feel like I want to vomit or heave again, I slowly stand. I grab my toothbrush before scrubbing my teeth to get the taste out, while my irritation towards my love is building...
For a whole week, he has barely touched me. Don’t get me wrong, he holds me at night, he kisses me to the point I’m writhing beneath him when I’ve woken up when he gets in bed, but has he screwed me?
No, no, he has not!
I sigh as I put my toothbrush back and walk out of the bathroom, I grab my hair brush as I take a seat at my vanity and put my hair into a neat bun as a plan comes together.
I’ll teach my kids, then I’m going to find my boyfriend and tell him to screw me. If he declines, well, then, I’ll just have to tie him to the bed because these pregnancy hormones are sending me wild.
I want him, and if he can do me at least four times tonight, I’ll be happy and might forgive him for pulling away.
With a nod, I quickly grab my keys and head to the door, ready for the day ahead. Before I walk out, I notice a piece of paper on the side table near the door and I skim it.
Little Bird,
Have church, didn’t want to wake you, but I’ll pick you up after four, and we’ll go to Dante’s, just you and me.
I love you.
Bell x
“Yeah, for take away,” I mutter, slipping the note into my purse with the other seven, his mistake last week flashing in my mind, when I panicked, thinking he’d relapsed.
I head out and down the stairs. I had never been so scared in my life to see him gone that morning, and it didn’t help that he barely said anything the night before after I told him about the pregnancy.
Damn man.
Shaking my head, I walk into my studio through the door next to my apartment staircase and hang up my bag ready to begin the day. The sense of not being alone hits me and I tense before I feel a presence behind me.
I go to turn, to confront whoever it is, or punch them, but before I can move something is shoved over my mouth and nose shocking me.
I try to struggle, try to knock them away as I buck my body but that causes whoever it is to hold me tighter to them and drowsiness begins to hit.
I blink then blink again as my vision blurs and I begin to fall as everything goes black. Bellamy and our baby—our life together—are the last things I think of.