Gray: An Interracial Story

Chapter: 31

Two Weeks Later

Blakely

I pace back and forth across the bathroom floor. My heart is pounding out of my chest. I feel my throat clench as the small beep from my watch sounds. 5 minutes. I twiddle my fingers and walk over to the sink, picking up the plastic pregnancy test lying there. I close my eyes, breathing slowly and deeply through my mouth, then open my eyes and see my future.

Pregnant. 

A sob escapes my lips and my knees go weak. I hit the ground with a loud thump, my head banging against the toilet seat. I start to see darkness, when a voice sounds from tho other side of the bathroom door. "Blakely? Are you alright?" Clayton's voice fills my mind. I try to answer, but no words form. 

I hear the soft click of the doorknob being turned. Footsteps. Clayton falls to his knees beside me, lifting me into his lap.

"Blakely, baby? Are you alright? What happened?" he asks frantically. I blink a few times, focusing in on his face. His sea blue eyes.

"F-fine. I'm fine," I say pulling away from him, struggling to stand. He backs away from me. I grab the pregnancy test off of the sink, shove it in his hands, and leave out of the bathroom. 

Clayton 

"Blakely. . ." I start after her, but my sentance trails off when I look at what's in my hands. A smile washes across my face. A baby. A baby for me. With the love of my life. 

I leave the bathroom and go into the bedroom in search of Blakely. I find her on our bed, her face buried in her pillow. I walk up to her, lying next to her when I realize that she's sobbing. Her body rocks with each breath, ragged. 

"Why are you crying? Aren't you happy?" I ask.

She looks up at me from her pillow, eyes red, and shakes her head. I feel a pang in my heart I've never felt before. Like it's being ripped from my body. 

"What?" I look at her, my eyes beginning to tear up.

"I don't want it."

"Why not? Because it's mine?" I ask her, my voice beginning to raise.

I see something flash across her face and disappear right then. It looked like. . . guilt. 

"No, Clayton. That's not why. I'm just not ready," she says getting up from the bed, heading for the kitchen. I follow her. 

She walks slowly. She grabs the phonebook from the kitchen table, flipping through it quickly. "What are you doing?" I ask, confused. She grabs her phon eout of her back pocket, dialing a number quickly.

"What are you doing?" Blakely looks up at me, a sorrow-filled expression on her face. 

"Hello?" she speaks into the phone. I can here the voice on the other side.

Hello, Long Island Abortion Clinic. How may I help you? 

"My name is Annali-" Her sentance is cut short from me smacking her phone out of her hand and onto the floor. My foot comes down on top of it, shattering her iPhone into many little pieces. She looks up at me with anger in her eyes. I look at her back with a glare of pure hatred that I know put fear into her because she looked away. 

I turn on my heels and walk out of the room to the front door, grabbing my jacket off the coatrack first. I open the door, calling out to her before slamming it shut behind me. 

"Pick it up, every last bit."

I may not be able to hit her, but I can hit what I bought her.