Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty Nine
Evie
Six Weeks Late…
Two lines.
There they are. Clear as fucking day. Two. Fucking. Pink. Lines.
And if I didn’t believe that one, I could look at the three other tests that sit on the counter telling me the exact same thing. Two lines. Pregnant. I’m pregnant.
Running my hand through my hair, I sit down on the side of the tub before putting my head between my knees.
Panic begins to set in as it coils in my chest like a vice, gripping on my heart and making it difficult to breathe.
Taking the next few moments to pull air into my lungs, in an attempt to slow my heart rate down.
I should’ve known better. We should have been more careful when we were all together.
Being with Monty and Josie has been something I never could’ve fathomed. They set this ease inside me that made me foolishly believe that maybe this could be something more.
But how can it be more?
They’re married and have two of their own kids together. They have their whole life sorted out, and now here I am fucking everything up by getting pregnant.
“Fuck, I’m so stupid.” The telling burn of tears hits the back of my eyes, but before I can banish them away they’re flowing down my cheeks.
My meltdown is interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
“Evie? I need help.” Shiloh’s soft voice echoes through the barrier between us. Sniffling, I quickly get up, turning on the tap water.
“One second buddy, I’ll be right there!” Wiping my face, I try my best to remove any trace of me crying off my face. I pocket the positive tests and the garbage in my baggy sweater, I’ll throw them out once I get Shiloh settled with his next task.
The rest of the day goes off without a hitch.
Josie had back to back appointments, so it was me and the little guys this afternoon.
Hayes has been on the go since he started walking.
Monty spent all last weekend setting up the baby gates that make a huge playpen in the living room.
So that area has been such a reprieve for me, but also gives him opportunities to explore.
My mind keeps flashing back to the positive pregnancy test, and how much I fuck things up. I put a face on for the kids, but the minute Monty came home I excuse myself saying I was getting a migraine and need to lie down.
He gave me some pain meds and told me to spend the weekend and relax and that he’ll come check on me in the morning. Monty kissed me quickly before heading toward the kitchen to start supper.
But I didn't go and lie down.
Stuffing my toiletries into my suitcase, I shut the lid reaching around to zip it up before putting it by the bedroom door. Grabbing my phone, I order a ride share for ten thirty.
Two hours.
I just need to hide away for two more hours and I can leave. Feeling nauseous I head over to the package of saltine crackers I grabbed before heading to the loft.
I get comfortable on the love seat, throwing on Grey's Anatomy to try and pass the time.
But it's not keeping my focus, and I keep sliding back into my past.
Back to the last time I fucked everything up.
Nerves dance along my body as I wait for Markus to get home from work.
I made his favorite for supper, a seared steak, medium rare just the way he likes it. Paired with garlic mashed potatoes and baked parmesan asparagus. I spent hours tenderizing and then seasoning the steak to perfection and making sure everything was meticulously done.
I made sure it was perfect.
I head to the sink to finish washing the dishes I used to make supper. His plate is warming in the oven so it doesn't get cold.
I jump at the sound of the door hitting the wall, warning bells going off in my head.
Maybe tonight isn't the night to tell him…
“What a fucking day. A piece of shit customer comes in and tries to tell me how to do my job? Fucking prick.”
Pain radiates across my ass, his hand probably leaving a mark as he passes me to get to the fridge. Reaching in he grabs a beer, cracking it open and taking two long pulls. Belching before turning toward me.
“What we eatin’?”
Quickly I wipe my hands on the dish towel and turn toward the oven.
“I made your favorite baby,” reaching into the stove, grabbing his plate.
Searing heat spreads across my finger tips, pulling a yelp from my lips.
The plate tumbles to the floor, smashing into pieces.
Food skittering across the pale linoleum tile.
Pulling my hand to my chest on instinct.
Quickly I take note of the redness where my skin connected with the hot plate.
The surface is shiny and starting to swell.
Pulsing as the sting of the burn radiates.
Not taking another moment to think about, I spin heading toward the broom closet.
I need to clean this up, I'll deal with the burn later. I feel the air shift past my ear, followed by the thump and hiss of something connecting with the wall.
I don't need to guess that if I turn and look, his beer can will be rolling on the floor behind me.
“Just fucking great. I work a long ass fucking day while you sit here home by yourself and you can't even make a fucking meal.”
Spinning he throws open the fridge grabbing another beer before stalking off to the living room. Leaving me alone with the mess. Quickly, I get to work cleaning everything up before retreating to the bedroom.
It's not until I'm curled into bed, clutching onto the stuffed panda that Harper got me on my eighteenth birthday do I let the tears fall. I don't know how long I lay there before the blanket of sleep covers me.
I’m startled awake, as I’m being dragged out of the bed.
“What- what's going on?” Instantly I'm on alert, but my brain is still fuzzy from sleep.
When my eyes focus it's then that I realize the small gift box that's open on the floor. The positive pregnancy test in pieces next to the little baby onesie.
“What the fuck is this shit Evie?” His grip on my bicep tightens, pulling a hiss from my lips.
He's never grabbed me like this before. Sure some days he’s a crabby dick, but those are the days I avoid him, the most he's ever done was throw shit when we've fought in the past.
“I mean it's pretty self explanatory Markus-” the rest of the words die as the next moment I'm on the ground next to the discarded gift. I look up at him in shock, “what's your fucking issue? You can't be throwing me on the ground. I'm fucking pregnant!”
“Get rid of it.” The tone of his words is lethal.
“What?” Squeaks out of me.
“Then get out.”
“Markus. you can't just kick me out, this is our place.” I try to reason with him. There's no way he's actually kicking me out right now. I don't even know what time it is. Based on the darkness from the bedroom window it's still night.
“This is my place. My name is on the lease. I just let you stay here.” He uses his big stubby finger and points to himself with every sentence, driving the point home. “Now pack your shit and get out.”
He stalks across the room and begins opening the dresser drawers, throwing all my clothes on the floor. I scramble to get up, “Markus stop!” I yell, “it's the middle of the night. Where do you expect me to go?”
Chest tightening, I bend down grasping whatever I can get in my grip. Tears flowing freely down my face as panic claws its way up my chest.
“That's not my problem anymore.” He grunts as he heads to the closet, throwing the door open so hard it slams against the door with a loud bang. Causing me to flinch back, as I put another piece of clothing in my arm.
A thud lands beside me and I see the empty plastic maroon colored suitcase open beside me. Closely followed by more of my things.
“Markus, please. Let's talk about this.” It becomes harder to break with the rising panic. “I thought you'd be happy!” Wiping the tears from my cheek I scramble up beside him. Trying to intercept any more of my things from being tossed into the bag.
Blinding hot pain radiates across my cheek, my face knocked to the side. Blinking back spots, I stand there stunned as my sight comes back into focus.
The heat from where he slapped me registers on my hand as I cup my face. A sob escaping me, losing all control of my emotions now.
“What makes you think I'd be excited about this? I never wanted kids. Fucking leeches that you're stuck with for the rest of your life.” A scoff leaves him before he continues muttering his rant, “I can't even look at you. Makes me fucking sick, you make me sick.”
Where did it go wrong? I feel so stupid for having this fantasy that he would be excited about this news. My hand instinctively covers my stomach and he lingers over me. I won't let him touch me. Not again.
“Fine,” sniffing I wipe my hand across my nose, grabbing the rest of my clothes and stuffing what I can into the suitcase before zipping it up.
Markus just fucking stands there, muttering under his breath about how disgusting I am. How I better get rid of this “problem” quickly or he'll make sure it's dealt with.
An icy chill runs down my spine at that threat and I know I need to pick up the pace and get out of there, like now.
I'm almost free, fingertips grazing the doorknob when my head is yanked back. Pulling me so my back is against his chest.
Leaning forward I smell the stale beer on his breath as it fans across the side of my face. “Give me the key Evie.” He whispers into my ear.
Reaching into my jacket pocket I pull out my keys, my scalp screaming at the grip he has on my head. I fumble with the keys as I remove the key to the apartment from the keychain and hold it out to him.
His grip on my head releases as he reaches over and grabs the keys from my hand. Pain begins to spread across my hand causing a whimper to leave my lips, “let go of me Markus. I'm leaving just like you want.”