Page 82 of When love and Hate Collide

“Thank you.” I sniffle and she smiles and squeezes my shoulder. When I leave the clinic I wander around aimlessly, welcoming the time alone to think and figure out what the hell I’m going to do. It’s abundantly clear I can’t rely on Dean, which shouldn’t surprise me one bit.

While I’m sitting at a small boutique café, staring hard into my steaming cup of coffee I sense someone approach and look up.

“Hi.”

I blink and Paxton’s handsome face appears before me. “Pax,” I utter quietly and he cocks his head to the side, his blue eyes narrowing while he regards me closely for a moment.

“May I?” he gestures to the empty seat opposite me, I wordlessly nod, and he pulls the chair back to sit. “You’re staring into that cup of coffee so hard like you’re certain you’ll find the answers to all your problems. Any luck?”

I wrap my fingers around the tepid glass and sigh, “If only, it’ll take more than a cup of coffee to sort through the chaos in my head.” I admit, lifting my eyes from the cup and look at him. Paxton was always good at helping me navigate through my qualms. Whenever I felt like I wasn’t good enough or giving up I could always rely on him to soothe my apprehensions, and he’d find a way to remind me that I’m more than capable of finding the solutions to whatever it is that’s troubling me. One of the many reasons I fell in love with him. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous as well as intelligent and kind.

“What’s troubling that beautiful mind of yours, pretty girl?” Paxton inquires, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand waiting for me to spill all to him.

I really wish I could.

“More than I can manage this time, Pax.” I sigh glumly, lowering my eyes, unable to look him in the eyes when I feel another onslaught of tears coming. The pained expression on Paxton’s face while he reaches to take hold of my hand hurts me.

“Jeyla, you know you can always unload onto me, baby.” Tears rivulet down my cheeks and he lifts my face, so I’m forced to meet his probing gaze. “Hey, please tell me I’m not responsible for these tears. You know how much it pains me to see you cry,” he says, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

“Not entirely no, I’m just really overwhelmed with everything and honestly I’ve never had so many people around me and felt so alone and scared in my life.” I confess to him and Paxton’s brows draw together in perplexity.

“Alone?” he intones. “Jeyla, what are you talking about, you’re surrounded by people who love you. You are not alone and what have you got to be so frightened of?”

My bleak future? The baby I have growing inside me. My conflicted feelings for the arsehole that fathered it. My unresolved feelings for you. The list just goes on and on.

“I know I am, but it makes no difference if they’re there or not when I can’t talk to anyone about the shit I’m going through, Pax. I made a stupid mistake and now I have to spend the rest of my life facing the consequences of it.”

“Jeyla, you’re really starting to worry me. What mistake would have you facing consequences for the rest of your life?” I heave a slow breath and sink back into my seat, my fingers fumbling with the spoon sitting on the saucer. My leg shakes under the table, and I chew the inside of my cheek, fretting the next words that come out of my mouth. “Jeyla?”

I close my eyes, “I’m pregnant.”

I can’t look up, my eyes are fixed to the table, my vision blurring with a fresh batch of tears when I feel him go stiff opposite me.

There a long pain filled silence that hangs between us while he lets my words sink in. “Is it…”

I shake my head, wordlessly answering his question. Pressing my lips together I lift my gaze to look at him and I’ll never forget the wounded look on his face.

“Who… who’s the father?”

“It doesn’t matter, it was a… meaningless hook up.”

“Wow,” he utters, pressing his hands against his mouth and shifts in his seat. “You hooked up with some random bloke and didn’t use a condom?”

Wincing, I place my elbows on the table and bury my head in my hands. “Of course not, he’s not some random bloke Paxton, he’s someone I’ve known my whole life. Someone I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d be in this situation with.” I explain calmly and he stares back at me in disbelief.

“Who is it?” he demands, leaning across the table and taking hold of my wrist. Those blue eyes that used to look at me with such devotion are now tainted and I can’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!” he shouts, slamming his hand against the table angrily. Everyone in the café turns and looks over at us and I look away. I grab my bag, push my chair back and walk out of the café.

You’re an idiot, Jeyla.

I just want to curl up into a corner and scream until my lungs implode. My chest is aching, so heavy and full with emotion like it’s ready to cave in and I can barely catch my breath. I walk down the bustling street, sobbing.

“Jeyla!” I hear Paxton’s voice calling out to me, but I keep walking. I feel his hand close around my arm, but I pull it free and keep walking. “Jeyla, stop,” he grabs my arm again, this time pulling me back till I’m pressed up against him.

“Don’t Pax,” I whimper, fighting in his hold. “Don’t, don’t love me, I don’t deserve it!” I cry into his chest when he wraps his arms around me, his lips against my temple.

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