with very little stuffing inside and there is nothing indicating someone sleeps here. Yet, this is where I’ve spent the last several weeks of my life, staring at the blankness of the walls, getting an eerie look into my future.
Will the fear I’m harboring inside myself send me to an institution? Will Drake put me there once I deliver the baby? Maybe it’s best for everyone if I lock myself up and keep the poisonous thoughts away from the ones I love.
A light knock sounds from the other side of the door before Drake cracks it open, looking amazing as usual. His blackish-brown hair is cut very short to his head and he is now growing a beard across his jaw. He looks very rugged, sexy and unbelievably perfect. The dark jeans hang low on his hips and underneath the gray, long sleeve t-shirt lives the sexiest set of abs in creation. God, it’s been so long since I’ve touched his skin, felt the warmth of his hands glide down my body and the wetness of his kisses. I let out deep sigh as the hormones start to rage, sending a direct current of heat to my core.
“Are you ready?” His tone is stoic and quiet.
I only nod. I can’t seem to keep my emotions under control anymore, and if I say something, the tears will surely follow. I stand from the bed and pull down my oversized t-shirt. I grab a hoodie from the closet then follow Drake down the hall and out the back door. The cool fall air brushes against my cheeks and I see the leaves are starting to change.
The enormous oaks towering in the backyard are my favorite part of this house. They are so full of life, changing with every season. I’m envious of the trees because each year they shed the baggage that’s been weighing the limbs down, forgetting the tiniest imperfections. Then, in the spring, the trees start over from the beginning, filled with new life and blooming possibilities. I only wish I could have started fresh after my time living with Robert Stein, then maybe I would see the good in the world instead of the horror.
As we plod down the steps, Drake comes around to the passenger side of the Chevelle and opens the door for me; a gesture that’s been forgotten since this entire mess started. I feel the flutter in my heart and my hope is soon dashed when the thing inside me moves. He is only doing this because I’m pregnant, not because he wants to rectify our situation.
When we walk into the doctor’s office, it’s the same as any other physician’s office. A reception’s desk located just inside the main glass door, fake plants hanging from the ceiling, pictures of landscapes covering the walls, and of course, the most uncomfortable plastic chairs ever made.
I walk up to the desk and alert the receptionist about our appointment. She has me fill out a form and sends me to the waiting area where I find Drake sitting with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes fixed to the carpet. The office is empty today, which differs from the last couple of times I was here. The only patient is a very pregnant woman sitting across from us, reading a magazine as nurses laugh behind the reception area. I fill out the form and walk it back up to the desk.
Drake meets my eyes for the first time in what feels like centuries, giving me a half smile. It fills me with so much love and breaks my heart all at the same time. The tears begin to pool in my eyes, but I shut them down. I can’t break down here.
Drake turns his head to the side as I sit next to him. He is studying me with his eyes, moving them over my body, focusing on my stomach. Then, as he moves them up, they stop on my eyes. My breath hitches because this is the first time he’s given me any attention since I tried to abort the thing in my stomach. His mouth opens like he’s trying to speak, however he is soon interrupted by the sound of a nurse calling my name.
I scream internally in my head, nice timing, skank . Then get up and follow her down the hall. After she takes my weight, I pee in a cup and
Will the fear I’m harboring inside myself send me to an institution? Will Drake put me there once I deliver the baby? Maybe it’s best for everyone if I lock myself up and keep the poisonous thoughts away from the ones I love.
A light knock sounds from the other side of the door before Drake cracks it open, looking amazing as usual. His blackish-brown hair is cut very short to his head and he is now growing a beard across his jaw. He looks very rugged, sexy and unbelievably perfect. The dark jeans hang low on his hips and underneath the gray, long sleeve t-shirt lives the sexiest set of abs in creation. God, it’s been so long since I’ve touched his skin, felt the warmth of his hands glide down my body and the wetness of his kisses. I let out deep sigh as the hormones start to rage, sending a direct current of heat to my core.
“Are you ready?” His tone is stoic and quiet.
I only nod. I can’t seem to keep my emotions under control anymore, and if I say something, the tears will surely follow. I stand from the bed and pull down my oversized t-shirt. I grab a hoodie from the closet then follow Drake down the hall and out the back door. The cool fall air brushes against my cheeks and I see the leaves are starting to change.
The enormous oaks towering in the backyard are my favorite part of this house. They are so full of life, changing with every season. I’m envious of the trees because each year they shed the baggage that’s been weighing the limbs down, forgetting the tiniest imperfections. Then, in the spring, the trees start over from the beginning, filled with new life and blooming possibilities. I only wish I could have started fresh after my time living with Robert Stein, then maybe I would see the good in the world instead of the horror.
As we plod down the steps, Drake comes around to the passenger side of the Chevelle and opens the door for me; a gesture that’s been forgotten since this entire mess started. I feel the flutter in my heart and my hope is soon dashed when the thing inside me moves. He is only doing this because I’m pregnant, not because he wants to rectify our situation.
When we walk into the doctor’s office, it’s the same as any other physician’s office. A reception’s desk located just inside the main glass door, fake plants hanging from the ceiling, pictures of landscapes covering the walls, and of course, the most uncomfortable plastic chairs ever made.
I walk up to the desk and alert the receptionist about our appointment. She has me fill out a form and sends me to the waiting area where I find Drake sitting with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes fixed to the carpet. The office is empty today, which differs from the last couple of times I was here. The only patient is a very pregnant woman sitting across from us, reading a magazine as nurses laugh behind the reception area. I fill out the form and walk it back up to the desk.
Drake meets my eyes for the first time in what feels like centuries, giving me a half smile. It fills me with so much love and breaks my heart all at the same time. The tears begin to pool in my eyes, but I shut them down. I can’t break down here.
Drake turns his head to the side as I sit next to him. He is studying me with his eyes, moving them over my body, focusing on my stomach. Then, as he moves them up, they stop on my eyes. My breath hitches because this is the first time he’s given me any attention since I tried to abort the thing in my stomach. His mouth opens like he’s trying to speak, however he is soon interrupted by the sound of a nurse calling my name.
I scream internally in my head, nice timing, skank . Then get up and follow her down the hall. After she takes my weight, I pee in a cup and
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