My first crush (COMPLETED)√

PART 2: Chapter78: Dealing with the bitch

Sharon's POV

The following morning arrived wrapped in pale sunlight that slipped through the curtains and painted soft gold across the room. Stephen and I left early — the streets still quiet, the air carrying that cool freshness that only existed before the city fully woke.

Our exams were drawing close, and the thought sat heavily on my mind. I needed to put more effort into studying — no distractions, no excuses.

Since I hadn't packed anything, Patricia had left one of her outfits for me to wear. The fabric felt unfamiliar against my skin, her scent faintly lingering on it. She had already gone out before we woke, claiming she had something urgent to attend to.

Urgent.

The word echoed oddly in my mind.

After lectures — hours of scribbling notes and forcing information into my already crowded brain — Stephen drove me home. The afternoon sun burned bright outside the windshield, and the hum of traffic filled the silence between us.

When we arrived, he leaned over and brushed his fingers across the steering wheel absentmindedly.

"I've got something urgent to take care of," he said.

I raised a brow. "Of course you do."

What the heck was going on today? Everyone had somewhere important to be except me.

He promised he'd come back soon, but I didn't quite buy it. Still, I simply nodded and stepped out. Once inside, I used the unexpected quiet as an excuse to focus. I spread my books across the bed and tried to sink into studying — highlighting lines, rereading paragraphs — though my thoughts wandered more than I liked.

⸻

Stephen's POV

I drove fast — faster than usual — the engine roaring beneath me as anger simmered under my skin. I pulled up at the agreed spot where Stiles waited, leaning casually against his car.

He looked up, already grinning. He knew why we were here.

"Let's go deal with that douchebag," I said, a smirk masking the fury tightening my chest.

"Can't wait," Stiles replied.

We sped off together.

Aaron's apartment building looked just as grimy as I remembered — peeling paint, cracked pavement, and the stale smell of cigarettes clinging to the hallway air. I knocked on his door — controlled, measured — despite the rage thrumming in my veins.

The door opened.

We pushed in.

Aaron stood there, surprised and slightly unsteady, the room behind him a mess. Clothes scattered across the floor. The scent of alcohol and sweat hung thick in the air. Two girls scrambled to gather their things, rushing past us and out the door without meeting anyone's eyes.

Disgust churned in my stomach.

Knowing how he treated Sharon... like she meant nothing.

He wasn't getting away with it.

"What are you doing here?" he slurred, clearly drunk.

"You remember I promised I'd deal with you?" I stepped forward — and punched him.

Once.
Twice.
Again.

"That was for sleeping with my girl!"

He stumbled, weak, blood already trickling from his nose — but I didn't stop until Stiles grabbed his arms and forced them behind him.

"What do you want from me?!" Aaron shouted, struggling.

"I want you to suffer," I said coldly, flashes of that tape replaying in my head, fueling the fire.

I leaned closer, gripping his chin.

"You know what I'd really want to do? Strap a bomb to your balls and blow them into pieces." I let the silence hang. "But I'm trying to be a better person. So here's what you'll do — call Sharon. Tell her you're a jerk. Tell her you'll never bother her again."

"And if I don't?" he muttered.

Stiles answered with a brutal kick that sent Aaron screaming.

"Fine! Fine!" he gasped. "I'll do it!"

"That's more like it."

He dialed.

⸻

Sharon's POV

I was buried in my book when my phone lit up.

Aaron.

My stomach tightened instantly.

"Why the hell is he calling me?" I muttered, rolling my eyes. I ignored it.

Then it rang again.

I answered this time, irritation spilling through my voice. "Why are you calling me?!"

"Er... Sharon... I just want you to know I won't bother you again."

His tone sounded forced — strained.

"I don't ever want to see you again, jerk!" My fingers clenched around the pillow beside me.

"I know you wonder why I did those things... Want honesty?" he continued.

"Just say it and get out of my life."

A pause.

"I was jealous of you and Stephen... and I wanted you for pleasure. I liked your body. You were fun. I don't regret it."

The words struck like knives.

"I hate you," I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them.

Then I heard movement on the other end.

⸻

Stephen's POV

"You've said enough." I snatched the phone away.

Aaron chuckled bitterly from the floor. "None of us deserve her. But I had my fun."

"Shut it," Stiles snapped, knocking him back to silence.

But the words lingered.

And deep down — they cut.

⸻

Patricia's POV

I walked straight into Mr. Walker's office, ignoring the secretary's protests behind me.

"Miss! The boss isn't seeing visitors!"

I didn't slow.

Mr. Walker looked up from his paperwork, adjusting his glasses.

"Patricia, my dear. What brings you here? Did Stephen come with you?"

My expression shifted — calculated, wounded.

"About that... Dad..." I paused.

His face hardened. "What's wrong? Did you fight? I'll have my men handle him."

"No," I said quickly. "I'm pregnant with Stephen's child. He wants me to abort it... but I won't. I love him."

Shock spread across his face as he removed his glasses.

"You're pregnant... I'm going to be a grandfather." His voice grew firm. "That baby stays. And you are going to marry my son."

A slow smile spread across my lips.

Victory tasted sweet.

I had won.