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She reassures me that he might simply need to digest the news. I begrudgingly agree with her before telling her that I’ll keep her posted.
I decide to bathe even though I’ll be late to work. Because I need a reason to sit—a reason to sink to my lowest.
The water’s warm when I sit inside the tub—the burn a million times easier to deal with than the one traveling inside my stomach.
I lean my head against the edge, slowly breathing in and out, because it’s the only way I can survive this.
It all feels like too much. I can’t handle any more pain.
This is exactly the kind of feeling I’ve been avoiding all my life. There’s no eagerness for the future. No goals that matter. No happiness to be cherished.
I mean it. I’m done.
He convinced me that we were ready. That he was okay taking steps toward our future, because his love for me blinded his fear of commitment.
Does he use Palmer as an excuse? Has it become so easy for him to do so?
I knew he’d leave like this. I knew he wasn’t emotionally ready, yet I kept going with him because I love him enough to risk going through these deadly feelings that consume my inner self.
I love him so much it hurts, more than he could ever know.
And I didn’t leave him. Despite his betrayal and my reluctance as to what to do, I still didn’t leave him!
But he just couldn’t help himself.
Damon doesn’t show up at work.
Somehow, his absence manages to simultaneously fill me with relief and dread. Relief because I have a ton of work to catch up on, and dread because I need to know we’ll be okay.
That we’re in this together.
I have a hard time concentrating, and I feel nauseated, yet I still cross many items off my to-do list.
Marie gives me a weird look when she drops by my desk in the afternoon, but she doesn’t comment on anything. I must look like a sick ghost for someone who took a vacation.
I haven’t heard from Damon all day, but I’m too exhausted by the time I drive home later in the evening to even worry about him.
“Hi, Dad.” I need to hear his voice. I need to tell him about the baby.
“My baby’s having a baby,” he says, almost choking on his words over the phone.
Oh, Gia. She just can’t help herself.
It would’ve been nice to share my own news for once.
“Looks like it,” I tell him as I stop at a traffic light.
“The more the merrier.”
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m pregnant with Damon’s baby.
“So what’s the verdict? Do you love this guy?”
“Foolishly, yeah.”
“The best kind of love there is. Your mom and I,Goddid we love each other. But we were so different. Most of the time we couldn’t have known if we’d be together a week or a month from then. We weren’t the stable kind. We challenged each other.”
“I don’t remember you fighting much growing up.”
