and we forgave

Chapter 24

NESSIE

"Is it true?!", Mark screams at me. He caught me puking in the toilet yesterday. And putting my hands on my back for how bad it hurts. He just cane back from college, came to the bookstore and took me from there. Jenna almost called the cops for kidnapping. Mark was furious as he came. I knew better than to argue with him. I got in the car and he drove us to his apartment. He didn't ask anything on the way here. Just as we arrived. He told me to sit at the table and after taking a deep breath, he asked me if I am pregnant.

I haven't answered.

"Is it true?", he repeats, his voice louder. He's yelling at me. And holding a plate in his hand. I'm afraid he'll throw it at me. I immediately place my hand in front of my belly, if only to shield it. He can hurt me but not my baby.

"Vanessa, is it true?", he's yelling.

I begin sobbing. I don't think I've ever felt more afraid. I start nodding. Small gestures at first. But as the tears grow more and more, the nods get bigger. He starts shaking. The plate is still in his hands.

I'm scared. But I am not scared he'll hurt me. I don't care. He can hurt me. After what I did, he can hurt me.

I am scared that he'll hurt my baby.

So I do the first thing I can. I run away. I stand up from the table and run to my room, locking myself in it. I can hear him banging on the wall. I can hear something breaking on the ground. I start sobbing. And shivering.

"Vanessa, open the door", he yells. I can't help but shiver harder. I am not opening that door. "Vanessa, I wouldn't hurt my baby. Please open the door so we can talk."

It's not your baby.

But if I won't open the door, he might break the door and the wood might hurt my baby more than a punch. A punch I can shield from by turning around so that he hits my back.

So I open the door.

He's shaking too.

I go sit on the bed, he comes inside and leans against the door.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?", he asks me. "Why wouldn't you tell me that you're pregnant?"

"What if I just found out?", I lie.

He reads through it.

"No", he counters. "You knew. You knew and that's why you switched to online classes. I know you, Nessie. You love your major. And Wrencore. I can't say I wasn't surprised as you told me you'll switch. Now it makes sense."

I start shivering harder. There's no going back now. He knows.

"So, how long have you known?", he asks me.

"A few weeks now", I answer whispering. A few months.

"And why wouldn't you tell me? I would have helped you. I would have been there for you. Help you through it all. Why wouldn't you tell me about my baby? Our child?"

"Because...", I begin. The sobs won't let the rest of the words out. My heart won't either.

I'm sorry, Adam.

"Because it's not mine, is it?", Mark hisses. I begin shaking harder and thank the universe that I am sitting down and not standing. I would have fallen. And that would have hurt my baby. "It wasn't hard to figure out", he continues, voice like blades. "We haven't had sex in a while. Now I realize why. Because you are carrying someone else's child." He takes a deep breath. "Who is it?"

"I...", I let out. I wish I'd die. I wish I'd die now. But then again, I wish I won't. For then my baby would too.

"Don't lie to me, Vanessa. Don't fucking lie to me again. You know whose child you're carrying. Because you know damn well who fucked you that wasn't me."

He comes closer. I step down from the bed and go to the other side, letting the furniture between us.

"I don't..."

"Whose is it?", he yells. Tone more threatening than ever.

"Adam's...", I whisper.

"Whose?", he lets out. He heard it. Just didn't want to believe it.

"Adam's", I repeat.

He snaps. And heads to my wardrobe, takes out my clothes. I am screaming, yelling, begging him to stop. He then grabs my wrist, my clothes still in his hand. I am sobbing as he's forcing me out of my room and to the door. He opens it, shoves me outside the apartment and throws my clothes on the doorstep. He quickly follows with my other clothes.

As he's back in the doorstep, he stares me in the eyes and all I see is hate. That's what his voice shows too as he hisses: "Get your ass and that bastard's baby out of my fucking house. Never come here again. Never. Did you understand me, bitch? I never want to see you again."

I am sobbing as I knock again at the door now shut in front of me. He is not going to open it. "Mark", I shout. "'Mark! Mark!"

I keep shouting and shouting and sobbing and sobbing and he won't answer.

I take out my phone and call him. He won't pick up. He won't pick up. Won't pick up.

I need to get inside. I need to get inside. The first photo of my baby is there. That photo. I need to get inside. I need to take it. I hid the box somewhere he won't ever be able to find it, but I need to get it.

I call again.

He texts me now.

MARK: What did I tell you, Vanessa? I never want to see you again. So get your traitorous ass away from my apartment before I call the cops.

I freeze.

And text the one thing I can think of.

ME: I am sorry, Mark. I just want you to know how much I loved you.

It's then he blocks my number.

I lean with my back against the wall, and sink down to the floor. It's then I open the group chat with my besties and send two words. "Code red."