When She Is No Longer Mine «Jason McCann & Justin Bieber»

49

I stand at the bottom of the stairs, sobbing against my hand. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Jason holds his pistol to his temple. "Or this way?" He shoves the barrel into his mouth.

"Stop, please," I cry out.

"Other side?" He switches it to the right side of his head.

I shake my head. "No way at all. Put it down, please!" In response, he pulls it down just to cock it. He pushes it against his temple again. "Jason, please," I whisper.

"Jason, please," he mimics in a a high pitched tone. "Save it, Nezther."

My body begins to shake. "I can't," I reach out to him, "I can't let our kids live without their father. Give it to me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "I'm not going to give it to you," he chuckles dryly. "Not so you can kill yourself and the baby."

I drop to my knees, grabbing my stomach. "I need you," I look up at him. "I can't do this alone. I can't raise four kids by myself. I can't sleep at night without you. I can't do anything without you, Jace. Please put it down and talk to me." I look over at the small hole in the wall which he previously shot. "Please, baby." He leans against the table, placing the gun down on it. "Thank you."

"You told me I ruined your life."

I crawl over to him, looking up at him. "You didn't, I just– I was upset and angry," another involuntary sob comes from me. "I didn't mean it. Nothing I said was true. I love you so, so much. And our family means everything to me, I can't lose you."

Jason bites his lip, looking down at me. "I love you, Nezther, way more than you could ever understand. I know you're pregnant and moody, but fuck... you say the nastiest shit to me and I feel like you don't love me anymore. Maybe we're growing apart and we should just split up," he looks back over at the gun.

He lifts his hand from his side, but I quickly grab it so he doesn't grab the weapon. "No, please, no," I sniffle. "N-None of th-th-this..."

He stares down at me. "Why're you stuttering? It's just me," he kneels in front of me.

"I-I'm sc-scared," I admit, scooting back a little to give him some space.

"That I'm going to hit you?"

"A-And that I-I'm going to say s-some-something wrong and you'll– you'll kill yourself," I belt out another sob.

His features soften a tad. Tears brim his eyes. "I won't hit you," he reaches out to me. "It was an accident, Angel, I swear it."

I stare into his eyes as mine continue leaking. "Y-You can't l-leave me!" I shout at him.

He reaches forward and in one swift motion, I'm in his lap with my chest pressed against his. "I'm not leaving, Nes," he mumbles and presses a kiss to my neck.

"But y-you want t-to," I weep against him, "and th-that's killing me-me."

He rubs my back, not uttering a word. After about fifteen minutes, the room is completely silent.

"It's been a rough week. I'll come help you finish dinner and then we can relax, okay? I think we're both extremely stressed right now, especially you, baby. I know you're so worried about Thanksgiving being perfect and then the trip we're taking to my Aunt's house for Christmas, I know you're worried. Let's just eat and then we'll go from there, okay?" He kisses my forehead.

I shake my head. "I-I-I don't wan-want to act l-like nothing just happen-happened," I stutter out.

"We can talk tomorrow when we're both feeling better, deal?" He continues to rub my back.

"Deal," I whisper.