Page 74 of The Hate Vow

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Penny

It’s been three days, and I’m still curled up in my bed, crying my eyes out. He came for me, he saved me, but then he left me here. I should be glad it ended this way. Logically, this is the best-case scenario. I’m finally free from Tommy, and I don’t have to worry about Tucker or anyone else coming after me.

My parents want me to stay with them. They are even taking out a loan to help me pay for college. I should be happy, but my heart hurts.

A gentle knock on my door has me sitting up in my bed.

“Penny, can I come in?” my mom’s soft voice asks through the door.

No.“Sure,” I croak, shocked by how raw my voice sounds. Using the sleeve of my sweater, I wipe the tears from my cheek, as if that would hide the fact that I’ve been crying all day.

The door creaks open, and my mom steps in, balancing a tray of food with one hand. “I brought you some lunch, sweetie.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” I flop back down on the bed, throwing my arm over my face. I hate the way she is looking at me. “Please, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Penny, but you will be.” I hear her set the tray down on my nightstand. “Just try to eat something. A few bites, at least.”

“Okay,” I murmur into the crook of my elbow, knowing that’s a lie. I can’t get a single bite down. Even thinking about food has my stomach churning.

I listen to my mother leave the room, closing the door quietly behind her. I still haven’t gotten a pregnancy test, but I know. I can feel it. I’m pregnant. I’m growing a child inside my womb, Ryder’s child. A man I love but can never have.

This is just another reason I should be happy. Ryder made it very clear he didn’t want a child. Even if I got a chance to talk to him, how would I tell him? He would hate me even more. Like he said, all I do is destroy his life.

A sob rips from my throat, one of many seemingly endless ones. There is nothing but dread, fear, and sadness left. I cry almost every day. My parents have begged me to talk to someone and even made me an appointment with a psychologist. I didn’t go.

I’m crying for so many reasons I’ve lost count. I’m crying for everything I’ve lost. I’m crying for the past and for all the uncertainties of the future.

Most of all, I cry for the child growing inside of me, knowing that I could never be the mother it deserves.

One Month Later

I don’t knowwho came up with the saying time heals all wounds. Whoever it was, they were wrong. It’s been a month now, and I still feel no better. Maybe even worse.

Two weeks ago, five grand magically appeared in my bank account. The transfer read tuition, which made my parents certain it had been from some grand I filled out, but I know better. Ryder sent it, probably because he felt sorry or guilty. Either reason made me feel like shit, like he paid me off.

Using my fork, I shovel the food on my plate around to make it look like I’m eating. I only take tiny bites of mash potato in between. I’ve been getting better with eating, but I can only do small amounts at a time.

I don’t know how much of this issue with food comes from my pregnancy and how much stems from my depression.

I’ve done a little research online about the first trimester. I know I should go to the doctor, but every time I think about it, I freeze. Going to the doctor would make this all real. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.

The ringing of the doorbell startles me to the point of me dropping my fork. My father’s hand comes out of nowhere, covering my own gently.

“Just the doorbell, I’ll get it.”

“I wonder who that could be? It’s almost seven,” my mom points out as if seven o’clock is in the middle of the night.

“I think you might be at the wrong house, son,” my father’s deep voice carries through the house.

“This is the address I’m supposed to drop him off at. It’s for Penny,” someone says.

At the mention of my name, I perk up. Curiously, I get up from my chair and walk toward the voices. The front door is wide open when I turn the corner. I see the guy my father is talking to first.

I’ve never seen him before. He is young, about my age, with shaggy looking blond hair. He smiles at me when he sees me approach, but I can’t muster up even a fake smile. Until my eyes lower to the floor.

“Mojo!” I call out and drop to my knees. He immediately breaks free from the guy holding his leash and runs toward me.


Tags: C. Hallman Romance