Page 10 of To Hate You

He scoffed. “You should have given me your whole allowance.”

We both snickered, the memory taking me back to a time when things were much simpler. A time when we thought our home would be a fortress of love forever.

Silence settled, and I shifted on my back.

“What’s wrong, Sienna?”

I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat, the idea of saying it out loud bringing tears to my eyes.

“You can tell me.”

The night was so silent I could hear my tears drip onto the pillow. I clutched my stomach, sucking in a deep breath, the oxygen burning as it made its way to my lungs. “I’m pregnant.”

One tear became two. Two became ten. I pressed my palms against the sides of my eyes, my chest about to explode with the heartbreak I had been keeping inside for so long.

I whimpered, biting the inside of my mouth to keep it from turning into painful sobs.

“Noah?”

“Yeah.” I turned on my side, sniffing as I bit back the need to let the pain and fear consume me. Saying it out loud had reality hit me straight in the gut. Within seconds the silk pillowcase was soaked with my tears, and my body shuddered as I cried.

The sheets moved, and the mattress dipped before a gentle arm wrapped around my own, taking my hand in his. He didn’t say a word as he held me, allowing me to cry as much as I needed to. I clutched his hand, and I cursed the tears that refused to stop while everything inside me broke little by little.

I inhaled deeply. “I’m scared, Silas.”

“I know.”

“What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know.” His fingers squeezed my hand. “But I won’t let you do it alone.”

The comfort of his words draped over me, filling my heart and turning my insides into a whirlpool of emotion.

He placed a kiss at the back of my head, and I shut my eyes. “Get some rest, little sis.”

Chapter5

Sienna

Itried to focus on the magazine in my hands, but I couldn’t. My brain was incapable of reading the words, my nerves too raw to think of anything else. Every time the door opened, I tensed up, expecting it to be my turn.

Silas placed a hand on my knee, stopping the jitter twitch in my leg. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

We had driven miles to a doctor in Sacramento to be sure no one who saw us would know my dad and the entire Whitlock dynasty.

I glanced around the waiting room. The chairs were white; the walls were white; even the magazines were predominantly white. I could feel the whiteness seep into my clothes, my skin, into my mind.

There was a large, wooden desk at the center. The receptionist sat behind it, swamped with papers and ringing phones.

The air in the waiting room was stale and smelled of disinfectant. The soft, calming sound of classical music came from a small speaker attached to the corner of the wall, and a couple who sat across from us kept on whispering to each other. The rings on their fingers and smiles on their faces confirmed they were a married couple consumed with the excitement of having a baby. The woman’s prominent baby bump told me they wouldn’t have to wait much longer for their little bundle of joy.

I looked down at my hand, my palm flush against my stomach. Hopefully, once I was that far along, I’d think of the baby as my little bundle of joy, too.

“Mrs. Whitlock.”

I glanced up at the nurse.

“Right this way.”

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