California Secrets (Billy Hargrove)

- 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 -

- Billy Hargrove -

My body feels heavy as I try to let the words sink in.

"Because he's yours."

"He's mine?" I whisper to her. She nods ever so slightly. "He's my son?" She nods again. "What the fuck, Katherine?" I scream at her. The tears begin to fall down her face again as she cries out muffled apologies. I block them out as I get lost in my head.

I can't be a father. I would be a horrible one. James isn't the kind of kid that deserves a shitty father. That kid is going to grow up with a bright future, and I can't give him that. All I would give him is trauma and bruises. I would end up like Neil, I know it. My anger is too bad, and I'm well aware of it. That would be something I have to fix immediately.

And the money? Where would I get the money from? I'm not financially stable enough to take care of a child. I would have to take up a job or two, which doesn't seem too bad, but it would be a pain in the ass.

The thing that takes up the most space is my mind is the anger. The rage. The complete betrayal that I feel from Katherine. James is three, which means all those years ago, she had him. She had him, and she didn't even tell me. She ran and left me with no knowledge of my child.

"You didn't tell me!" I shout at her. "You ran like a coward! You left me behind!"

"I know, Billy, I'm sorry."

"You could have at least given me the choice!"

There is a pause between us and a look of self-disappointment crosses her face. "I know," she whispers. But then, she raises her voice and asks me something I don't quite know the answer to.

"But would you have chosen him?"

🌊🌊🌊

- Katherine Witherfield -

He left me. He fucking left me.

Billy had gotten into his car once he finished up his gas and sped off, leaving me standing at the gas station pump alone, tears running down my face and my clothes still soaked from the lake.

I walked home that night, shivering in the cold in my soaked clothes and hair. My tear-soaked face didn't help my cause either.

I repeat to myself the same words:

I deserve this.

I deserve this grief. I deserve this self-loathing that has taken up my body. One bad decision I made three years ago has come back to haunt me. I should have just told Billy. I know I should have. It was just completely and morally wrong for me to keep James from him. I thought I was protecting Billy and therefore protecting James, but I was lying to myself.

Images and dreams of how things could have been if I had told Billy come flooding into my head as I had to walk home for over an hour. When I had finally gotten home, I spilled everything to Ma. I told her how she was right, and how she always had been. I cried into her shoulder until James had woken up from his nap, and once I had gotten him to sleep later that night, I went to my bed and cried some more.

Now it's late at night, and I have cried all the tears that could be cried. Nothing seems to come out anymore. I just sit in my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how horrible of a person I am.

The fact that Billy didn't answer my question kept my mind awake. Would he have even chosen to stay and been a father to James? At the time, we were extremely young, still children. I had always thought he wouldn't stay. But what if he would have?

All of these 'what if?'s tire me out, and I pass out at 3 in the morning.

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*screams*

THOUGHTS? THANKS FOR READING!! I LOVE YOU ALL

-Liz <3