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- arabella -

I walked forward to Isabella, bringing back a hand and with all the force I had in me, I slap her.

The pent up frustration I had in me had somewhat released into that slap, the fogginess in my mind didn't made me realized what I had done nonetheless let me comfort the crying girl on the floor by my feet.

My body was relieved of some of the stress, even the stinginess in my palm faded after a few seconds. It was like I needed this.

Snapping out of the daze, I look down at her, frowning. She was my best friend, the one who I told my secrets to and pushed me through my breakdowns. And now, she was just another girl Younes used.

"Get up." I say, my tone of voice harsh. Even though she had gone through something so awful, I was going through my own problems. "Get up, Isabella!"

She sat up, not looking up at me. Her hand clutched her cheek, still sobbing. "Arabella, I'm so sorry."

"What are you even sorry about!?" I ask back, walking backwards until I was away from her. I couldn't see her, it disgusted me. "You knew how I felt about him, Isabella. You knew how much he hurt me and...and then you run off with him? How is it supposed to make me feel?"

Isabella continued to cry, scooting backwards into the couch and huddling into the fetus position. She looked pathetic, huddled away from me as if I could do so much with the big belly I carried.

"Was he really the love of your life?" I whisper, the conversation leading up to this moment coming to mind. It angered me again, "I talked about marrying him. You were going to be my maid of honor—fuck! You were going to be the Godmother of our children, Isabella! How can he be the love of your life when he was mine?"

Those words seemed to snap her back, she sat up and wiped away her tears. The anger inside of me fired even more once she made eye contact with me, her glare wanting to kill me. "Because you had him in the palm of your fucking hand and never appreciated and loved him like I did!"

"How could I when he was seeing other girls behind my back!?" I yelled, my voice shaking and a few tears swelling up in my eyes. Feeling the baby kick inside, I took a seat and tried to regain my breath—everything in me was hurting. "One can do so much for a person who doesn't care about you..."

"He cared, Arabella." She replied back, her sadness long gone. "He cared but you never saw it."

I scoffed, leaning back on the couch to ease the ache in my back and rolled my eyes at her and her ridiculous words. "And you think he cared about you? He just used you."

"Like he did with you, right?" She mocks with a laugh, shaking her head getting up from the couch. Walking across, she stood over me in a towering and dominant manner, looking down at me. "You really believed him when he went on 'modeling' trips? And I was coincidentally in that trip? Come on, Bella, we thought you were smarter than that."

Memories hit me as she talked. Those times where I would Skype her and he'd be there or vice versa. And those other times where they'd be spotted together.

Chuckling at her words, all I could do was laugh. I had no comebacks, no comments, and no thoughts to it.

I had practically helped them cheat on me, I introduced them to one another and funded trips so they'd run off together and I gave them followers and sponsorships where they got their getaways.

Standing up from the couch, I grab onto my belly, feeling how Kiwi kicked here and there probably feeling my anger towards who I always dreamt of having as a mentor to my kids.

"And then what, Isabella?" I ask in a whisper, "Was stabbing me in the back worth it? Was he worth it?"

Seeing her face drop, the anger inside of me subsided. This was more than what I could ever ask for.

"Because at the end of my day, I'm growing a baby with a man who is willing to kill for us." I continue, saying my words slowly so she'd understand and listen at the satisfaction—even though the last part was a total lie. "And you? He left you. Now you're alone."

Her eyes brimmed with tears, but I knew her ego and pride was bigger than some tears. Looking at me one more time with her killer gaze, she gathered her things and left, making sure to slam the door on her way out.

I waited a few minutes before sitting back on the couch and completely breaking down.

I had judged and mocked her knowing I was in the damn same situation, but my case worse; I was pregnant.

Sitting on the couch thinking about what Zayn could possibly be doing, Sammy took a seat next to me, awkwardly drumming his fingers on his legs.

"The bag of coke that was found on her car that one time we went out was mine." He blurted out, "I knew from that moment she was a bitch, that's why I never claimed it to be mine."

Laughing at his random anecdote, I nudged him with raised eyebrows. "You're the reason she couldn't walk on Paris' Fashion Week?"

Sammy nodded slowly, "Yep." He cleared his throat, looking at the time and raising his eyebrows. "You deserve better."

"I know." I smile, relaxing into the couch while prompting my feet up on the coffee table. He relaxed on the couch next to me, both of us looking at the ceiling, my mind beginning to slowly race as I replayed the conflict. "Did Younes never really cared about me?"

Rolling his head to a side, he shook his head with a scoff. "Would it matter if he did?"

"I did loved him." I shrug, trying not to get sad again over someone who was long gone from my life. "Maybe he cared and loved me at some point. Right?"

Samuel sat in silence, rolling his head back so he was looking at his blank ceiling. "You have someone else who will care and love you." His hand went to rest on my belly, caressing it slowly before tapping it softly and getting up. "I'm leave before you get sappy. Don't overthink this!"

I groan and close my eyes, yelling back at him as he disappeared into his bedroom. "I'm already doing it!"







[ a.n :  ily❤️‍🔥 ]

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