Chapter 47
“Then did you talk to her at all last night?” He leaned in closer, his voice low
and dangerous.
I was still shaking my head no, this conversation was going the exact opposite way I thought it was going to go so I was confused.
“I… I didn’t say anything to your mother,” stammered, shaking my head vehemently. “I wouldn’t disrespect her. I would never-”
“Faith. Stop.” His hand came up, stopping me mid–sentence. His eyes were dark, burning a hole right through me. “Did you speak to her at dinner yesterday?”
The question was so but the way it was asked threw me off.
“Of course I did,” I said, confusion creeping in. “We were sitting at the same table. I said ‘hello‘ and ‘thank you‘ for the food. Was I supposed to pretend
she wasn’t there?”
As soon as I said it, the confusion vanished, replaced by a cold, stomach–dropping certainty. He wasn’t asking about manners. He was asking about the incident. The little scene where she had pushed me until I pushed back.
“Oh,” I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. “You mean when she kept mentioning Alice and the baby or do you mean our conversation in the kitchen?”
His jaw tightened. “I mean when you chose to pick a fight with my mother at
the dinner.”
“I didn’t choose a fight!” The heat instantly rushed back to my face, my denial turning into righteous anger. “Your mother started it! She was talking about that baby the entire night, making sure I heard every tiny detail about Alice’s
1/4
check–up, about the nursery, about the due date. She was doing it on purpose. To make me feel small. To make me feel like I don’t matter,
I’m not even going to start talking about what she said to me in the kitchen”
I reached out, trying to grab his arm, trying to make him understand that I
wasn’t a villain here.
But he didn’t even flinch. He just stood firm, stone–faced.
“I know I have things to fix,” he said, cutting me off before I could finish my explanation. His voice was hard, lacking any of the warmth I was begging for. “I know I have some major groveling to do, and I am ready to do every single bit of that. I will fix every mistake I have made regarding you and this relationship, Faith. But you do not bring my mother into this war.”
“My war?” My voice cracked. “This is our relationship! And I wasn’t trying to include her! She came to the kitchen and she started to talking about the baby and she basically told me that I should love the baby as much as I love my children and I thought it was crazy talk because the baby isn’t born yet. It was starting to aggravate me because she was doing it intentionally!”
He stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, his stance purely defensive. “My mother would never do something like that. She is always telling me that I need to fix our relationship. She has always supported us.”
His words sliced me open. He wasn’t just defending her. He was painting me as the aggressor, the liar.
“So you’re defending them?” I asked, my voice barely a tremor. My heart was slamming against my ribs, waiting for the answer that would either save us or end us. “You are taking their side over mine?”
That was when he snapped.
“Stop it, Faith! Just stop the fighting!” He threw his hands up in frustration. The anger in his eyes was blinding. “I am begging you to calm down. The
2/4
Chate
tension, the stress, the constant arguing… it could affect the baby!”
The words echoed in the small space between us.
The baby.
He didn’t mention my feelings. He didn’t mention my hurt or my pain.
He only focused on the potential consequence for the child, The child that was born behind my back not to mention the child that he has been constantly asking me for forgiveness for
The anger drained out of me instantly, replaced by a hollow, sickening despair. The air left my lungs. It was the deepest cut yet.
“You’re worried about the baby,” I repeated, my voice flat and emotionless, like I was tasting ash. “Not how I feel.”
“I’m worried about everything! I’m worried about you both!” he argued, but the power had gone out of his voice, replaced by a tired frustration. He wasn’t arguing with me anymore; he was arguing with the situation he
couldn’t control.
“No, you’re not,” I said softly. I recognized this feeling. It was the feeling you get when you realize you are completely alone, even when the person you love is standing right in front of you. “You’re worried about them from me because you also think I would do something to hurt your baby.”
I expected him to shut the thought immediately out of my head but he kept quiet and that was all the confirmation that I needed.
I had nothing left to say. I didn’t have the energy to explain the agony of hearing about his other baby while fighting for recognition on this one. I turned around, intending to leave the house and go anywhere quiet. I needed space to breathe, to mend the new cracks he had just put in my heart.
I was good at that because I’ve been doing it for 3 years.
Chapter 47
I took three steps toward the door.
Claim
“Go then,” he spat out, his voice sharp and laced with pure contempt. “You should run, Faith. Because that’s what you always do when things get tough.”
cphakathi28
21
#vote#
Comments
LUCK DRAW >
Vote
459
