Page 4 of Always Right

I had to tell him, but not yet. I wasn’t ready, not that I ever would be. When the time came, though, I would make sure my walls were firm, that they had a strong foundation, strong enough to withstand the storm that came with him.

There was a quiet knock on the door and though it was past midnight, I already knew who it was. Blake stood there, holding a bottle of wine and two bags of chips in his hands. I swallowed thickly, hoping I could keep it together in front of my friend, the one who’d stood beside me throughout my pregnancy, the one who held my hand as they rushed me to an emergency C-section. But as he opened his arms to me, I could do nothing but fall into his embrace, ignoring the cold of the night as he held me tight. Comforting.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “You always show up when I need you.”

He pulled away, wiping away a tear before offering me a small smile. His blue eyes were conflicted, pained. He knew how much this hurt. After all, he’d watched me cry time and time again over him.

“C’mon. I believe you have a lot to tell me.”

Chapter 2

Hannah

I waited in the car, staring at my hands, my knuckles white with the force of my grip around the steering wheel. I couldn’t let the damn thing go, thinking of what I needed to do. The apartment complex in front of me held my future, our future in its hands, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to find out what that was. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I ever would be.

Pregnant.

We hadn’t used protection and we’d discussed starting a family but to have it happen so soon, under these circumstances wasn’t at all what I had imagined. There was a child growing inside of me in the middle of the chaos, and I wasn’t sure how to accept it. It pushed me to drive to his apartment, but I wasn’t sure that I could even step foot inside.

Thunder rumbled above me, the sky darkening as the wind made leaves float to the ground. I sighed, turning off my car and sitting there for a few more seconds while I mustered the courage to speak to him.

Here goes nothing.

Hugging my arms around my body, I walked into the complex, ignoring the small talk some of my acquaintances wanted to make and pushed the button in the elevator, staring at the floor number as it changed.

One.

You still have time to walk away.

Two.

Forget about him.

Three.

Move on.

Four.

Try one more time.

Five.

He still loves you.

Six.

You’ll always be his.

On the seventh floor, the elevator door opened, and I took a deep breath, hoping, praying, the Derek I knew and loved was still there. Evie said love always conquered it all. Maybe she was right.

God, I hope she’s right.

I knocked a few times, the silence deafening as I waited for the door to open and for him to appear but it never did. I bit down on my lip, taking the doorknob in my hand and twisting.

The stench of alcohol surrounded me, bringing an intense bout of nausea that I fought to keep at bay. Chaos surrounded me. The place was a mess. Clothes on the floor, beer cans scattered around the living room, picture frames broken near the fireplace. I should have taken it for what it was—a warning. But I didn’t.

My stubborn feet moved quietly across the floor, leaning down as I picked up a picture frame with a photo of us that laid on the floor, holding on to it as the memory of when we took it replayed in my head.

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