Page 87 of Beautifully Reckless

I hold it in for a few more minutes, until I’m sure he’s gone, and then I sink to the floor of the shower and cry.

Likereallycry.

The emotional agony that’s been haunting me every minute of every day spills from me, and I try and fail to fall apart quietly. But Ineedto purge it, get it out and hope like hell it doesn’t come back.

I’m sick of feeling like such a helpless damsel. I don’t want to be that girl.

I don’t want to need anyone but myself. I don’t want to rely on anyone.

I can’t bear to go through the pain of someone failing me again.

But I’ll be there for my little baby boy or girl. I will love my baby. Nurture it. Give my bub everything my parents didn’t give me and more. And I will do it all on my own.

Somehow. I know I can do it.

I just have to figure out how.

I stay under the raining water for what seems like forever. It’s ice cold by the time I drag myself out, and take my time drying off, combing my wet fading pink strands, and digging through my backpack until I find a dress that stretches over my bump.

When I finally go looking for Ringo, the sky outside is streaked with pinks, purples, and oranges as the sun begins to set.

The house is quiet as I pass through the living area, spotting Ringo’s mum dozing on the couch with the TV on and the volume down low.

Outside is still warm, but a light breeze hints that it might cool off a little more through the night as we move deeper into autumn.

Over by the barn, I spot JD working on his motorcycle, but there’s no sign of Ringo.

“You looking for Cameron?”

I startle at Lani’s voice, spinning to see her behind me, a basket propped on her hip with what looks like grapes or some sort of fruit inside.

“Ahhh, yeah,” I mutter, suddenly feeling awkward after my outburst earlier until I notice her red rimmed eyes. Has she been crying? “Are you okay?”

She studies me for a moment, and then points towards the rows of vines she must have come from, completely ignoring my question.

“He’s spending time with someone special. You might want to leave him alone.”

“Oh.” My heart sinks at her words.

I don’t know who he’s with, but it’s clear she doesn’t want me encroaching.

When I part my lips to speak, she turns and walks away, her behaviour, paired with her sister’s from earlier, adding to how unwelcome I feel here.

As unwanted as I feel, I don’t feel unsafe, which is the only reason I haven’t tried to leave yet.

I need to be smart, for my baby. So for now, I’ll endure their judgement.

Glancingat the rows of vines, I decide to go for a wander. Ringo did make me promise to come find him, after all.

The air is thick with the scent of grapes and rich earth, the vines so pretty I almost forget I’m trespassing on someone else’s world.

I don’t think the vines are big enough to be a full-blown vineyard, but maybe this is like a hobby farm, and they make their own wine or cider or whatever it is you can make from grapes.

The sounds of the birds chirping are loud out here. I can hear cockies squawking somewhere not too far away, and as I glance up, a flock of sparrows zip overhead, like they are racing home for supper.

As I reach the end of the vines, my eyes widen at the sight of a large tree, and it isn’t until I spot Ringo kneeling beneath it, his head bowed before a small gravestone that I realise, this must be the Jacaranda tree Hope is buried under.

The sight punches air from my lungs.

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