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“An honest one. You can’t turn off love because of one act, no matter how terrible that act might have been.”

“I wish I could.”

“You’re young,” she said again, as though trying to drill it home. “You won’t feel this way forever, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. Time, while it doesn’t make grief go away, it does lessen the impact. It won’t always feel so raw.”

I looked over at her. “And love? Does time make that lessen the impact, too?”

“You probably don’t want to hear this, but you will meet someone else and love again one day.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to hear it. I’ll never put myself through this kind of pain again. Never.”

“Sweetheart, not everyone lives this kind of life.”

“But I do, though. It’s what I was born into, and even if I tried to leave, it would follow me somehow.”

My eyes filled with tears again. I didn’t know how it was possible to cry so much without drying out. I’d cried myself to sleep every night, and then, when I’d woken and remembered what had happened, I’d cried again. My chest was a hollow ball where my heart had once been, and I couldn’t ever see myself feeling whole again. I longed to be able to go back in time and change what had happened, and some part of me felt it was so unfair that I couldn’t do it—the frustration of not being able to change things mentally wearing me down.

Stupidly, a part of me even hoped Jayden would get in touch. Though I knew it would be no good for me and would only open old wounds, I still found myself checking my phone hoping to see his name on the screen. I had almost messaged him countless times, typing out huge messages, pouring my heart and soul into those words. But I had always managed to delete the message before sending it—the sensible part of me aware that I couldn’t open up this line of communication again. Nothing he ever did or said would make things any better.

I needed to muster a little extra energy. There was something I needed to do or else I wasn’t sure I’d sleep again. I had to know one way or another.

“I’m going for a walk,” I told Mara. “Just round the block. I won’t go far.”

Her brow creased in concern. “Do you want me to come?”

“No, but thank you. I need a little time to myself.”

“You’ve been by yourself too much,” she said, somewhat disapprovingly.

“Baby steps,” I told her, forcing myself to my feet.

I left my house and stepped out onto the street, inhaling fresh air into my lungs for the first time in a month. It seemed too busy out here, too loud, too everything. I wanted to vanish. Instead, I put my hands in my pockets and ducked my head, allowing my hair to fall over my face. I didn’t want anyone to recognise me, especially considering where I was going and what I was about to do. I walked to the high street and slipped into the local chemist. With my head still down, I found the aisle that contained the pregnancy tests.

My hand shook as I selected one of the popular brands, one that would leave no doubt as to what the result was, and I took it up to the counter.

“Anything else?” the woman serving asked me.

I shook my head. “No, just this one.”

I hoped she wasn’t going to start asking me any questions. Mercifully, she didn’t, and I left the shop again, stuffing the test into the sleeve of my hoody so it wouldn’t be seen.

Back at the house, I went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. I unwrapped the pregnancy test and quickly checked the instructions, though there wasn’t exactly much to it.

I peed on the stick. My heart felt like it was in my throat, and I was lightheaded and breathless.

The worst part was that I didn’t know what I wanted the result to be.

It was pathetic, to still want that connection to him. It would give me a reason to have to contact him again, even though I knew how painful that would be. But even having that thought filled me with overwhelming guilt again. I couldn’t wish a baby into this world just so I could be in touch with a man who’d killed my brother. What kind of sick person was I? I didn’t want to think about what that would do to my family, as well. They were going through their own grief and didn’t need this complication. What if they said I’d have to get rid of it? Or have the baby but then give it up for adoption? They’d never allow Jayden to have the child.

Without looking at the test, I balanced it on the edge of the sink and then set my timer on my phone to the allocated amount. I promised myself I wouldn’t check it until the time was up. I didn’t want to give myself false hope, either way.

I sat with my head in my hands, trying not to wallow, and failing.

The alarm sounded on my phone, and I sat up straight, swallowing my fear. With my hand shaking, I reached for the stick.

I stared at the result and burst into tears.


Tags: Marissa Farrar Romance