Meant for Me | ✔️

29) back to the beginning

Tuesday, 5th September

A D D I E

The fact that I hadn't broken a bone or ended up in worse shape from the seven foot fall off a cliff was a miracle. I was grateful that Zac had found me before it got worse but I still had the headache from hell when I woke up the next morning.

There were three stitches in my temple. Stitches that I couldn't stand seeing because the sight of them reminded me of the horrendous gash in Margo's temple and the reminder of holding her lifeless, bloodied mess of a body was too much to bare.

Her death was a simple accident, just a terrible tragedy, but the image of how gruesome it all looked, it gave me nightmares, it made me nauseous. When mom and dad died, I saw their bodies in their caskets. They had this eerie glamour about them. Beautiful clothes, hair and make up done. But they were so expressionless, pale and as a teenager, I remember thinking they looked like wax.

But Margo hadn't been to the mortician, she hadn't been cleaned of her wounds and blood. Her eyes hadn't been closed and the smell of blood still makes me curl into myself.

For a death that wasn't violent or malicious or even intended to happen, it sure had chilled me to the core and left me with serious terrors whenever it flooded my mind in sleep.

Irie, Margo's friend had said that seeing a body like that was bound to leave a mark, regardless of what caused the death. She kept on repeating how awful it was that I'd had to cradle Margo's body for a full hour and a half before I finally called the police.

Through the haze of trauma, I hadn't known who to call. An ambulance seemed pointless. In the end, a coroner and the police arrived. The events that followed are a blur of questions and visitors and friends of Margo who wanted to, but couldn't help.

The more that I woke up, the more my senses kicked into action. And that was when I heard the sound of quick paced breathing. I peered through one half closed eye and saw Zac leaning against the chest of drawers on the other side of the room.

His head was down, focused on a piece of paper in his hand. I smiled for a moment, thinking about how much he meant to me and how grateful I was that he'd been there for me.

But slowly, pieces of the puzzle started to align and I shot up in bed with panic when I realised that he was reading the positive pregnancy report that I'd thrown into the bathroom bin.

"I didn't find this," he said, low and quiet, still looking at the paper. "Blake was cleaning up this morning and saw it when she emptied the trash. Thought I should know when she congratulated me and I had no idea what the hell she was talking about."

"I can explain."

He finally looked at me and I'd never seen him so cold. It stunned me. I did not know this man.

"Explain that you're pregnant with someone else's child? Cause it sure as shit ain't mine."

"No. Bu—"

"This is fucked," he let out a humorless laugh and dropped the paper as he stood up straight. "What was the angle here? Baby daddy split so you thought you'd find someone else to step in?"

"Zac," I stood up too fast but continued speaking through white dancing dots. "That is ridiculous, of course n—"

"That paper tells me you're almost two months along. You've been here for one. Is this the first time you've heard about it? Or did you know when you arrived? Or did you find out while you were here?"

"I knew. Bu—"

"For fucks sakes. You should have told me from the beginning. The hells wrong with you? Is this a fucking game? You're carrying someone else's child and dating me. And I didn't even know. Were you going to give this one up as well?"