Page 72 of When love and Hate Collide

There’sa sour taste in my mouth as I spill the news of my pregnancy to Dean, who suddenly goes stock-still and pales while he processes the news. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something, or react in any way but he only stares at me unblinking for the longest time while I slowly and tortuously stew in anticipation.

That was the very same look I had on my face when I found out eight hours ago. Hell, I’m still trying to process it and I’m sick to my stomach with apprehension. I sat in that bathroom for over forty minutes numbly staring at the line of positive tests on the floor.

“Dean?” I can feel myself choking on my emotions and I fight off the tears I can feel coming.

Dean finally blinks and takes a step back, he lifts his arms and places his hands atop his head while he paces back and forth.

“We… we used protection.”

“Not every time.” Dean stops pacing and looks at me sharply, his brows fused tightly. “That night at the hotel when we got stranded. We didn’t use anything.”

“I pulled out!” he shouts furiously, and I start, not expecting his sudden outburst.

“The pull-out method isn’t effective protection and doesn’t always work, Dean! Surely you know this!” I fire back and he shakes his head, walking over to me.

“Bullshit! It does when it’s done right!” he bellows in my face. “And it’s never, not once, let me down before. I find it hard to believe that a method I’ve used for over a year with other women—who I slept with more times than I have with you, works perfectly fine, but one night with you and you’re up the fucking duff?” I gape up at him in disbelief, and the back of my eyelids prickle at the accusing undertone lacing his voice.

“What are you insinuating here exactly?” I narrow my eyes in scrutiny. “Because I sure as shit didn’t crawl on top of myself and get pregnant, Dean, and I would be very careful with what comes out of your mouth next.” Dean’s jaw tightens and throbs while he glares hot daggers at me, each one more painful as it pierces right though my heart. I can see as clear as day what he’s thinking, and in that moment, I want the ground to open and swallow me whole.

“I don’t know who else you’ve been spreading your legs to JJ, but that baby isn’t mine. We used protection and that night I pulled out with more than enough time to be safe.” He claims, determinedly.

My heart snaps and takes a deep dive into the pit of my stomach while I stand staring at him, my vision blurring as tears gather in my eyes. My hand is already up before my mind acknowledges it and I slap him hard across the face. My hand stings and Dean’s head snaps to the side from the force of it, his eyes closed, jaw set tight.

“I didn’t expect much from you, but I never would have imagined you could bethisheartless and uncouth, especially regarding a sensitive matter like this. I can’t even find the words to express the devastation and repugnance I have for myself for ever letting you touch me, you spineless arsehole.” I sob, shaking my head in disgust, “You can stand there in denial and spew your hateful words at me all you want, but deep down you know you’re the only person I’ve slept with. This baby is yours, Dean, whether you want to accept it or not doesn’t change that fact.” Dean opens his eyes and slowly turns his gaze to look at me. When he takes a step toward me, I retreat, shaking my head.

“Don’t!” He stops, his hands fisting by his sides. “You’ve made your feelings on the matter perfectly clear. This is my problem, so I’ll deal with it on my own and you can go to hell where you belong.” I express bleakly. “You’ve ruined my life.” I whisper, my voice breaking before I turn and hurry out of his room when the lump in my throat grows, constricting my airway and I feel my emotions building and building to a point it’s ready to explode out of me.

I have one thought on my mind and it’s to pack up my stuff and disappear. My knees wobble and I sink on the third step of the staircase, bury my head in my arms and sob.

What the hell am I going to do now?

How am I supposed to explain this to Ash? To my family? If I tell them that it’s Dean’s baby and he’s refusing to take any responsibility they’ll be at each other’s throats and almost twenty years of friendship will be ruined all because I couldn’t keep my legs closed. If I lie and tell them it’s from a random hook up, they’ll be so disappointed in me. I’ll have to quit school, move back home and raise this baby on my own.

I can’t have this baby. How can I have the baby of a man I loathe with every fibre in my body? How can I want a man who isn’t even mature enough to step up and face his responsibilities?

My despairing sobs reverberate in the empty stairwell; I cry and cry until I have nothing left in me and my eyes feel like they’re about to fall out of their sockets.

I don’t go back to my room in fear of him showing up. Instead, I head down to a hidden part of the beach and lay on the sand, staring up at the clear night sky, beseechingly searching for the answers or any other solution that doesn’t end with me terminating my baby or destroying everything and everyone around me.

I don’t know how long I lay there, but it must have been a couple of hours because my body starts to tremble when the sand beneath me cools as the temperature drops and slowly seeps into my bones or I’m just shaking with trepidation. I honestly couldn’t tell.

When I finally force myself to head up to my room, the sun is starting to peek up from the horizon. I round the corner and stop when I find Dean sitting on the floor, his back against my door, his knees up and his head in his hands looking as distraught as I feel.

When he senses me there, his head lifts and his eyes snap up and lock with mine. Just when I think I’ve cried myself dry, a fresh batch of tears well up in my eyes, obscuring my vision for a second before they spill over and stream down my already tear stained cheeks. Dean gets up when I take a step back, ready to turn and walk away, not having the strength nor the stomach to deal with him. In two strides with those long legs of his, he’s already in my space and I’m sobbing, backing away from him.

“No,” I place my hands at his chest and push him back. This time he doesn’t back off, his arms envelope me, taking every hard blow of my fist against his chest while I sob. “No, don’t fucking touch me. I hate you, I hate you!” I cry, fighting in his hold.

“I know,I know,” Dean presses his forehead to the top of my head. “I’m sorry, JJ. I’m so fucking sorry.” My face is buried into his chest, my body shaking with hoarse sobs while he holds me tight against him. “You’re right, I am a spineless arsehole, and you didn’t deserve a reaction like that, I’m so sorry.” My woeful cries simmer to quiet whimpers when he draws back and lifts my head so I’m looking up at him. “I’m sorry.” His thumbs brush away the tears that flow freely down my face. “I was already angry, and I’d been drinking. You caught me off guard, dropping it on me like that, and I didn’t know how to react, so I went on the offense. It’s no excuse nor does it justify those cruel things I said to you.”

I push his hand away from my face, lowering my eyes before I speak, “No, it doesn’t. And just because I consented to you calling me those crude things when we slept together doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m some common slapper that spreads her legs to everything that moves.” I lift my eyes to look at him again. “Not that it matters, but I’ve only slept with two guys, one was my ex-boyfriend and the other isyou.”

A sullen look overshadows Dean’s gaze, and he nods. “Just because I say those things to you doesn’t mean that I actually believe them to be true, JJ.” Dean confesses sombrely, his gaze searching mine. “What I said before was way out of line. No woman, despite the number of men she’s slept with deserves to be spoken to in such a manner. I promise you. I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth.”

The sincerity of his declaration appeases the horrid sting of his harsh words before. I still feel the weight of our situation siting on my chest like an elephant waiting to be addressed. Just because he apologised for the way he reacted, doesn’t mean we’re all good, nor that I forgive him for being a colossal bastard about it.

Stepping away from him, I walk over to the door to my room and swipe the key card to open it and walk in. Dean follows me in, quietly closing the door behind him. I sink on the bed, my eyes cast down, fumbling with the gold ring on my index finger.

“What are you thinking?”

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