I can't. I can't do this anymore.My body is so weak. There's nothing left to be released from my belly, but my throat don't get the memo and keeps on constricting. Dry heaving is sooo draining.With shaky legs, with the last strength I have in me, I drag my body out of the bathroom and reach for my phone on the bedside table.I can't do this alone.I can't if I want my baby safe.I can't if I want to safe me too.The call is still connecting.Come on, pick up. God, help me, God. Help. Please. Please. Please.She picks up on the third ring."Sweetie?" she asks, a little hesitant. Maybe she's questioning her own eyes. She doesn't believe I am calling her now. This is my fault. I did this to her. I stopped calling her months ago.God."Mama," I answer, as loud as I can. But, with the abused throat and the dehydration, I sound like a scratch on a sandpaper.Hearing this, her alarms picks up. "Sweetie, what's happening? Are you okay?" Panic colors her voice."No, Ma," I croak again."Oh my
What the fuck did he just say?What. The. Fuck?"What the fuck, Linc? You're not listening?" protests Adrian.Yep, you see that right. The very best friend who had ghosted me for this past months is now drinking my liquor like it's fresh water and he's been stranded on the Sahara.I should have known when I saw his ass walking in from the door that he wasn't bearing any good news. I should have known when I saw him and he just waved his hand asking for a drink. I should have known.When the most stubborn prick on the planet shows up at your bar after punching your mug ugly, giving you silent treatment for months, you know something is wrong.And it really is. Terribly, fucking devastatingly wrong."Slow down, man. You want to knock yourself out or something?" I warn, reaching for the bottle he is gripping so hard like a lifeline.He swats my palm. Hard. Fuck, that hurts."Yeah, yeah. I wanna do that so baaad," he slurs. He then chuckles. "You realize how funny it was? I'm trying to kno
What the hell is he doing here? Who do he think he is showing up in my room after ALL that he did? And, yeah, I really mean ALL OF IT.The nerve of this freaking prick."Sweetheart, is everything okay?"Dad's voice break through the fog of disdain that coated my brain, but, still, it takes a while for the question to truly register. I shift my eyes from the big, uninvited, and unwelcomed guy that now standing near my bed to my parents.And, it's not a surprise to see confusion painting their faces. Because of course they didn't know. And I don't want them to ever know about what had happened between me and the guy who they think of as their own son beside Adrian.Don't ask. I personally don't know why I'm still trying to keep this as a secret from them. Either I want to keep my name, or ....Don't. Don't go there.I shouldn't think like that way. I shouldn't think about it anymore.This is all his fault.But I can do nothing about it in front of mom and dad. "Yeah, yeah, Daddy. Everyth
What's happening to me?It is not until I hear the familiar voice of Nurse what's-her-name that my hard-beating heart slows down.Holy moly, Batman. I'm a mess."Oh, hey. You must be the baby daddy. Glad to see you," she greets with her cheery voice.Before I can turn on my back and swat that statements away to hell, Linc chimes in, "Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Lincoln."What in the actual hell? I sit up too fast and get myself a whiplash.Shit."Whoa, whoa, slow down, honey." The nurse suddenly stood beside me and holds me on the forearm. "Didn't think you'll be so excited to see me," she jests, trying to make it light.The giant prick snickers.I try to send a glare at him discreetly but fail miserably when Nurse—I glance at her tag—Laura eyes us back and forth. "Everything alright, honey?" she asks as she checks up on my vital."Yeah," I croak, "everything is fine.""I guess so." She writes something on the paper she brought with her. "And, please, lay low for a while, yeah? No inten
“No, you’re not!”My phone suddenly fly out of my hand. “Hey!” I sit from the laying down I did just moments ago. “Mo, I know you’re upset with me but please don’t take it out on my phone, okay?”Morwenna “Mo” Hattersley has been my best friend since as long as I can remember. Our fathers were college best friends became partners in Jackson and Hattersley and partners, a law firm they’ve built together for nearly three decades. Our mothers instantly became friends after they met our fathers, had had so many double dates, girls days and nights sent them on the fast train to become best friends too.And now they're like our extended family. Shared birthdays, celebrations, holidays and vacations.Morwenna and I, we were truly what people say the opposite faces in the same coin. Being the go-getter, you-only-live-once kinda girl she is, Mo will be the one girl you find bungee-jumping, zip-lining, or do anything adrenaline-related (because adrenaline rush was so addictive, her words not min
“What do you think about Lincoln?”I hear the front door close. “What?” I ask, trying to act nonchalant. After taking off those killer heels, I prop my dying feet on the coffee table. Still a mystery as to why women would wear them willingly knowing what they could do to your feet.But I am grateful for my sore feet that is distracting me from another type of pain that the mere mention of he who I swear I hate caused.“Oh, come on.” Mo rolls her eyes and plops down beside me on the couch. “We’ve been to Stewart’s forever, Bry, and I’ve seen the way he looked at you.”I can't help the sour chuckle that escapes. “What way, Mo?” Shaking my head I point at her nose. “You’re impossible, you know that, right?”Morwenna bats my finger as she leans to me so we’re eyes to eyes. “No.” She does this half whisper half-shriek thing. “You are. I think he likes you.”“And I KNOW he doesn’t like me. At all," I emphasize. "Lincoln is Adrian’s best friend, remember?”“So what?” she asks again, none the
Work is work. Meetings had keeping me out of the office and to say I am beat was understatement. I am dead on my feet. I dive into the couch as soon as I’m home. Judging by the feel the apartement gives, Morwenna is still out. Which is happening more recently. Hm.My phone suddenly rings on the coffee table alerting a FaceTime.“Hey, there, cuz.” Michael’s face fills the screen. "Hi, you. Give me a sec.” I prop a cushion beneath my head. “You busy?” “Nope.” I pop the p. “Just got home from work.” “Okay, I won’t be long then. Just want to say happy birthday to my best cousin in the world,” he says. “And to remind you that there’ll be a package waiting for you this weekend.” Michael chuckles and winks. I roll my eyes. “You know I will hunt your ass down to wherever you are now if this package isn’t what I am hoping, right, Mike?” I try to pull my meanest face to threaten him. But, everyone knows there’ll be nothing that scare the Mighty Michael. “You’re funny,” he mocks. “That was
It’s Saturday, after all, and I’m running on my favorite track at Central Park, my shoes hits the concrete in a steady thump, thump, thump, in sync with the beating of my heart. The sunrays is peeking through between the trees, another early birds are busy with their pick of activities. They're warming up, riding their bicycles, even those yoga enthusiasts are already making pretzel pose with their bodies.My smartwatch beeps, telling me I’ve done my five miles for today so I begin to slow my pace and head back towards my car. Fumbling with my earphone, I don’t see where I’m going and crash with something, or someone. It lands me on my ass and send my phone to its meeting with the path.“Ouch!” A small bad word escapes my lips through gritted teeth and I hope to heaven whoever near can’t hear it. Assuming from the pain on my right lady bum, I’ll leave this park with a bruise in the size of Texas. Great.“God, I’m sorry. You okay?”My brain needs a little more time to process those word