Page 35 of Anteros' Return

“Umm, it was good, especially for Liam and Beckett.”

“And you? How was it being around him?” She questioned, squeezing my hand.

“Definitely not easy. I put on a brave face, but knowing he never once tried to come back for me… It’s hard.” I swallowed, the words bitter in my mouth, like I was finally saying something I’d kept buried for far too long. I could feel the emotion rising—tight in my throat, stinging behind my eyes—but I forced it down, just like I always did. There was this deep, hollow achesitting in my chest, the kind that never really went away, only got quieter over the years.

“But we know why he didn’t. That fucking arsehole, Mike.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“No, I know that, but it breaks my heart that Beckett thought I’d have given up on us the second he got on that plane.” I rubbed my eyes, avoiding her gaze.

“I know. I know it does, and we may have a good idea of what Mike did and said, but we’ll never know it word for word.”

“I hate him for what he did. I hate that he wormed his way into my life and Liam’s when I was at my weakest point.” I sighed.

“He’s an absolute dickhead, but I trust that Beckett will put that fucker in his place.” She wrinkled her nose in frustration. “He robbed Liam and you of so much, and he deserves all he gets.” She seethed.

“I spent years hating Beckett. Missing him. I spent years wondering what I did that made him forget me. I spent years?—”

“Don’t think about the past anymore. It’ll just hurt too much,” she said in the softest possible way.

“Hmm, you’re right.”

“I know I am.” She winked. “Do you know when you’ll tell Liam?”

“No, we’re just taking each day as it comes, and then we’ll know when the time’s right.”

Almost nine years ago…

Seeing Beckett’s name flash on my phone filled me with the hope that he wanted this baby as much as I did.

“Beck?” I smiled, nervously waiting to hear his voice.

“It’s Mike… Sorry.”

“Why are you calling from Beck’s phone?” I queried, confused.

“Because…” He was stalling, something wasn’t right.

“Did you speak to him, Mike?” I asked hopefully, clutching at my necklace.

“I did. I’m so sorry, Em. He doesn’t want to know about the baby.”

“What do you mean?” My breath caught in my throat. I felt as though my world was crumbling with every single word.

“He said he doesn’t care about you or the baby.” He paused as my heart broke. “You’re not even a thought in his head anymore. He’s already sleeping around, Em.”

“N-no. He wouldn’t…” I sobbed.

“He would and he is. He doesn’t want you, Emily. You were just someone to pass the time for him.”

His words cut deeper than any knife ever would. I sank to the floor of my bedroom, my hand splayed across my stomach. “Can’t you talk to him… Can’t you try?” I pleaded.

“I tried already. He doesn’t care.” He sighed. “He said it’ll ruin his career, and he chooses that over you.”

As the words sank in, a wave of nausea washed over me. I pressed my hand to my mouth, my stomach violently twisting. I couldn’t stop myself as I rushed to the bathroom, barely making it there before heaving.

I leaned over the sink, the vile taste lingering as tears streamed down my cheeks. His words shattered me. I felt empty, and broken. With every tear I cried, I gasped for breath as I sank onto the cool tiles of the bathroom, the reality quickly sinking in.

“Em? Are you still there?” Mike shouted through the receiver of the phone, his voice laced with worry.

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