It's 2 in the morning and Hunter still hasn't come home.
He left me.
Hunter, where are you? I'm worried about you. Please come home...
- SaharaMy thumb pressed the button 'send'.
That was the last text from me. I've sent him hundreds of text messages but he didn't reply to any of them and when I call him, he wasn't on the other line, he turned off his phone instead so that no one could reach him.
I'm tired and miserable. I'm worrying sick about him. He is a mualaf. If he's not strong enough about his religion and beliefs, he may ends up returning back to who he was in the past, BEFORE ME.
There's so much possibilities. He could be hurting himself because he wasn't ready yet to have a baby. He could be drinking or partying around at some local bars in town.
Oh no! WORSE.
What if he went out to find Britney? When he did find her, he would follow her home and sleep with her, fucking her until he takes his mind off of me and the baby.
Those thoughts were enough to make me crumble and crushed onto the floor underneath me. Tears began gleaming around the corner of my eyes. I held my phone close againts my chest, hoping that he would return my call, hoping that he would be okay, hoping that wouldn't be with any random girl accept for me.
'Ya Allah, please protect my husband from any harm and guide him to safety every time we're not around each other.'
For the last few minutes, I kept on praying over and over again hoping that he will come home to me safe and sound like the last time I saw him.
This should be a happy time for both of us. We're going to be parents. Briefly, I relieve telling Hunter that I'm pregnant and fantasize that he falls to his knees with joy in front me, pulling me into his arms and onto his lap, holding me tightly and kissing me, telling me how much he loves me and our little jellybean.
Instead...
I'm sitting here alone, on the cold floor, behind these walls hoping he'd call. It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all.
"Hunter, where are you?" I cried out as my head fell into my hands.
Hunter's POV
A baby.
A FREAKING BABY?!
It's my fault. THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!? I did this to her. I've put her through this shit! Oh God! How could I've been so STUPID?!
I couldn't even put my mind through all the process.
When the time comes, she will be screaming in the labour room during the delivery. Both her eyes screw shut and her face turns red, sweaty as she clenches the bedsheets from all the extreme, unbearable and unexplainable pain.
And our world will be ruined by diapers and vomit and SHIT!?
Here I am...
Out late at night, in my car, in the middle of nowhere, spending hours and the last few minutes banging my fists on the fucking steering wheel because I couldn't get my mind straight of what to do next.
My phone rang every few seconds when all those text messages and calls from Sahara showed up on the screen. At last, I ended up pressing the off button and tossed it in the back seat.
I know better not to talk to her at this time, when I'm in this state. I'll explode and probably ends up screaming and yelling at her once again, like what I did to her before I left the house earlier today, left the woman that I love so damn much, left the woman that is pregnant with my child.
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I Punched The Gang Leader [ON HOLD]
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