"Who was it?" Abby says walking into the living room, she has my shirt on. I stare for a while causing her to smirk.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Um, just Carter." I say looking away. She sits next to me.
"What'd he say?" My eyes widen in fear. I've always been bad a lying.
"I-I um, he said-" I get nervous, my hands suddenly sweaty. "He saw you with Nate at Lunar Entertainment." I blurt out.
Her eyes widen in shock. I'm no longer nervous instead I stare at her for any signals of guilt. "Is it true?" I ask anger slowly growing inside me.
She stares at me her chest goes up and down as breathing becomes hard for her. "I wasn't doing anything with-"
"With who!? Nate?!" I yell standing up. I can't keep my anger inside.
"You can't believe him!" She yells standing up as well. "You can't believe him! He's a liar!"
"A liar? I wouldn't be talking if I were you." I say my anger swirling inside me, about to explode. "I can't believe this." she says rubbing her temples with her index fingers.
"Since when have you been seeing Nate? Which by the way is my brother." I say and she looks at me. Her eyes lost their brightness, replaced by a dark, deep mist.
"I hate you!" She finally yells. "I hate you so much! I am so happy you aren't the father of my child!" She breaths through her nose, her nostrils flaring as she becomes more and more angry.
My heart feels like it's chattered into a million pieces. "What...?" I whisper my eyes soft and full of self pitty.
"You're not the father." she repeats still angry. Tears form in my eyes as realization hits me.
I'm not the father. But, I know who is.
"Nate." I say looking up at her. "It's Nate, isn't it?" I say my voice cracking.
She doesn't respond instead she stares at me. Her mouth slightly open as guilt overwhelms her. "I knew it." I murmur and speed walk into my room.
"What are you doing?" she asks as I grab my murse grabbing my shirts out of the drawers.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She doesn't respond, she just stares.
"I'm sorry..." She whispers her voice trailing off. I put as much of my clothes as I can into my murse and walk into the living room.
I open the door, "You can keep the shirt. It'll remind you of what we use to be." I say and slam the door shut.
YOU ARE READING
Hazel
عاطفية'I understand why he hates his father. He's the man who pushed his wife against the living room walls. The man who shoved his own son in the closet for hours. The reason why Masons mother committed suicide.' ...
