Disastrous

Sixty Five

For June, the weather was strangely cool. Usually around this time of year I was wearing as little clothing as possible, with the air conditioner blowing rapidly on high. But for some reason, this year was different, so much so that I was wearing a cardigan in the middle of the month over a tank top and light jeans. I'll admit, jeans were getting more and more uncomfortable as the days in my pregnancy passed, but today wasn't a sweat pant kind of day.

Today was my sweet baby's birthday.

Rory had turned one.

I sat in the backyard of Austen's house on the outskirts of New York, watching Rory laugh and play. He was walking so much now. Falling down a lot still, but walking, and speeding up to the point that I got frightened when he would all of a sudden take off in a small jog. He was currently playing with Austen, the both of them laughing as they pretended to chase one another back and fourth. I felt content for the first time in a while, but I knew the feeling would fade. Niall was going to be here soon, and not only did I dread seeing him, but I was also afraid that he wouldn't come to the small party we were having alone. Our situation was so complex and it unnerved me that I may have to be around somebody he could be seeing, say, Tina for example, while I'm pregnant with his child.

I hadn't spoken to Niall at all since our fight we had at this very house after the car accident. I had snapped on Niall for leaving our son alone in the house while he sat outside on the porch to smoke a cigarette and talk on the phone. He hadn't seen Rory since that, and I never called him to ask about it. Austen had called him to invite him today, making him promise there would be no problems. Niall had gotten angry at that saying he would never bring any stress to me when my health and the baby's was already in jeopardy.

Ten minutes later when I'm inside getting more lemonade pitchers ready, I hear a car door slam outside. One look out of the window and I can see Niall approaching the house. He was wearing light blue baggy jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. I noticed his hair was longer, nearly completely a sandy brownish-blonde now. I could still remember his fully blonde head of hair when I first met him.

Much to my surprise he's alone. I watch from the window as he opens the gate and struts confidently into the backyard. Almost everyone we were expecting had already arrived, which wasn't very many. Amongst the crowd was my brother and Rachel. She was showing more and more everyday, around 5 months pregnant with her son now. I was worried for Lucas. He was so angry when I told him about what happened at the police station, and when he confronted Rachel, she broke down crying but admitted that she had called the police and placed the false report. She swore it was just because she wanted to be positive that I was safe, but it still angered me that she hadn't just believed me in the first place when I told her it was an accident.

Lucas was furious with her over it, but he seemed to be over it all now. He was smiling at her in the backyard with his hand on her back. It also worried me that he didn't know yet if the baby was his. Rachel now swore that she was nearly 100% positive he was Lucas's son, but they wouldn't know for sure until he was born. Lucas originally said he would only be around if the baby was his. However he was so attached and emotionally invested now, I found it hard to believe he could just walk away if the paternity test didn't go in his favour.

It made my anger even more real that Niall didn't seem overly invested in his children. For god's sake, Lucas was devoted to Rachel and her baby even with the chance that he wasn't his son. Niall knew Rory and our unborn child were both his yet he never came around, he never tried anymore.

I hated to admit that I was jealous. I truly did. And I hated that I wanted Niall to still be invested in me. He had cheated on me with my then best friend, even though he said we weren't together at the time. It still broke my heart, and I knew my trust could never be what it once was for him, so why did I want him to still be in love with me? Why did I want him to fight so hard for me when I wasn't even sure if I could ever be with him again?