Renegade - A Taylor Swift Adoption Story

Chapter 10: The Fight

CHLOE

"Oh yeah?! How am I not listening? I'm here daily, I show up, I'm trying to work on us!"

"Joe, you haven't been here for weeks and when you are, you ignore me. That's not working on us. Just stop, you're losing me."

"Taylor, I don't know what you want. But it seems like you're not going to get it from me."

I buried my face into the pillow as the fight continued. This has been a daily occurrence, at least whenever Joe was here. And he seemed to have been coming here less and less. So much for being better together.

"You'll wake up Chloe!" Thanks Taylor, but I was already awake.

"I don't care! Have you ever wondered how much everything has changed since.... Since she arrived?"

"Joe she's not the problem here, we are!"

Oh no. He said what I was thinking all along. I put the pillow on top of my head to drown the argument out. When that didn't work, I started murmuring to myself, the same words I used to murmur in the orphanage.

"Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine."

I wasn't sure how long I murmured that for, but I could hear Taylor's voice in the distance.

"Chloe? I'm so so so sorry."

"Honey?" I could feel her sitting on the bed, but I didn't react. I knew it all along. Taylor and Joe were having arguments because of me. I caused this.

"I'M SORRY," I screamed into the pillow without lifting my head, "I'M SORRY OKAY. I DIDN'T ASK TO BE HERE. I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO LET ME LIVE WITH YOU. IF YOU JUST KICKED ME OUT OF THE STADIUM THAT NIGHT THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED."

By now I was hysterically crying, each of my breaths becoming shorter and faster than the other. I could feel Taylor's hand on my back trying to comfort me, but it was too late. I was having a panic attack.

"Chloe, please," I could sense intense worry in Taylor's voice. My breathing got shallower. The truth is, I didn't even have the physical strength to lift the pillow from the top of my head. I was suffocating.

"Chloe!!!!" Taylor ripped the pillow from me with such force she moved my whole body with it. As soon as I hit the mattress I saw nothing but darkness.

I opened my eyes to a soothing blue surrounding, a stark contrast to the chaotic blur of my last memory. Slowly, the realization sank in—I was in a hospital. The consistent beeping of a machine to my left and the feel of something attached to my skin were telltale signs.

Turning my head to the right, I saw Taylor, slumped in a chair that didn't look designed for comfort. She was asleep, but it was evident it wasn't a restful one. Her eyes, even closed, bore the trace of worry, slightly swollen and rimmed with red. Her hair was disheveled, a testament to the stress and the hours spent by my bedside.

She was wearing sweatpants and a shirt, a change from the outfit she had on during her argument with Joe. It hit me then—I must have been here for more than just a few hours, possibly a day. The room was quiet, but the weight of unspoken emotions was palpable, and Taylor, even in her exhausted state, felt like a comforting anchor in the uncertainty.

The moment I moved, Taylor's eyes opened. "Chloe!! Oh my god, Chloe!!"

She rushed to my side and immediately hugged me. "Are you okay? Are you okay? I was so worried."

She quickly let go, I suspect she was worried I'll suffocate once again.

She stroked my face, "I'm so so sorry, honey."