Live Through This/ Liam Gallagher

CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX

It was a few minutes of silence in the car, I'd assumed Liam was taking his time chewing out the employee because when he finally entered, he was seething, especially as he plopped the grocery bags down on the floor and slammed the door shut.

"That's bullshit. And, WE are going to get the company's number and sue. That's not fucking right. That was private."

"Liam-"

"That should've never been put out there and I mean really? The lack of fucking respect they have for you and I. I mean really?"

"They got it from my mother. So there's nothing we can really do. Except get them to pull it from the shelves." I mutter softly, knowing people who had gotten into similar situations before.

"No. I am going to raise hell." He mutters, beginning to start the car up.

My eyes gloss over the groceries and spot a magazine poking out of the bag. "You still bought a copy?"

"Stole one to be precise. And yeah. Gotta read whatever bullshit they printed for when I complain about it."

I sigh, leaning back in seat as we drive off, my eyes darting outside the window, focusing on the passing by stores and whatnot. Really not wanting to stare at my chest on the cover of some fucking tabloid.

"You ever think about leaving the city?"

"Not really. But I mean fuck, in times like these, I kinda envy Noel and Meg. They don't deal with this shit. Or lurking cameras."

"Yeah. You're right. They don't. But the country is too quiet for me. And us." I add

"Very true. We wouldn't last a day down there would we?"

"I'd give us a week." I say, lightly joking and trying to make myself feel better about the whole mess.

His hand reaches over to my thigh and sits there, squeezing it gently, trying to give me comfort, knowing I was now stressed out because of it all.

"The real estate agent dropped some listings off while we were gone. If you want to look at those papers and see which ones you want to tour or look into." He offers, trying to give some sort of control to me.

I nod my head. "Yeah. That would be great. Really. Thank you."

Then, reaching forwards, I turn the radio on, listening to the soft sound of The Verve's Bittersweet Symphony as we continued driving off, feeling sick.

Really sick.

"Liam pull over! NOW." I yell, knowing I was about to hurl.

And he does, not caring about traffic or the presence of anyone or anything nearby. Just simply trying to help.

I struggle with the door handle, eventually pushing it and opening the door,  thankfully able to get to the street and allowing myself to throw up on the sidewalk.

This was about the second time I'd thrown up on the sidewalk. And I was getting tired of it at this point. I mean seriously.

Why?

Couldn't the little brat wait till I got home?

Okay. Shouldn't call them a brat. But still. Oh shit. On the topic of this. I really needed to start making appointments with a baby doctor. Whatever they're called. Especially since we were over a month along.

As I slam the door shut and pull myself back in, I feel as if I'm on the verge of tears.

"Jesus. Are you alright?" He asks