17 Made Mistakes

⋆36༄ No more secrets

Welcome back! Like I said, I'm gonna post whenever I write a chapter, and I wrote this one today so enjoy xx

𝓝𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷

The door closes quietly and that's when I freeze. I know how much I've just hurt her. I know how much it meant to her — the intimacy that happened between us last night. I just can't act like what we did wasn't irresponsible and silly. A child. Davina and I could have had a child. We could have ruined our lives, but would they really get ruined if I got her pregnant? Would I like to be a father? I don't think so, at least not just yet, but would I like a kid with Davina? It's been so long since we spent a night together, however, I can't deny that she makes me feel wholesome on an entirely different level. Being with her . . . being around her . . . it just feels right. I can't help it.

I also can't help the lack of control that I've got around her. I don't even care anymore that she's left me for Reyman, that she was so indecisive. I know that she's changed, and I think that made dismissing her even more harrowing. I wanted her to stay. I wanted it so badly. I wanted her to lie in my bed, be her bubbly self, enjoy the breakfast that I could have and would have made for her if only I'd had that daft condom.

I should have said no. I should have never had sex without protection, yet I gave in. That's how little it takes for me to agree to anything she wants. She matters to me. She matters so much, thus do her needs, but that in turn, can be very dangerous.

A family with Davina.

A family with Davina.

I mull that possibility over and over in my head. If she got pregnant, I wouldn't leave her to fend for herself. We'd probably move in together, or she'd just stay at mine, whichever she'd prefer. I'd make sure she's happy and comfortable all the time. I'd make sure to provide all the necessities.

Just the prospect that the pill could not work and Davina would be here on the daily makes me feel like crying. I've missed her so much, even though the yearning has subsided a little after months of us not talking after our break up.

When I woke up this morning, I just couldn't shake of the irritation. I couldn't get over how readily and carelessly she spoke about the morning after pill. For her, it was just a solution not to get stuck with me and a baby, for me, however, it meant obliterating the possibility of starting a family with her. Of course she doesn't care about me the same way I care about her. Maybe I was only a distraction because Reyman doesn't want her anymore? Maybe she just uses me to forget about him? On the other hand, I know Davina. I know that when she said she understood her mistake of cheating on me, when she said she missed me, I know that she was being genuine.

But I can't risk diving in deep again if she doesn't feel the same way. It's better if I keep my distance. After all, these were my own words ". . . and if we are each other's future, we'll meet again, hopefully being 'the better' then."

Maybe the better needs a little bit more time to come.

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓓𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓪

It's been a week. I spent it on working, reading books, surprisingly watching culinary programmes, but mostly, I spent it on wondering about what I might have done to upset Nathan. I still couldn't comprehend why he's been shunning my phone calls and ignoring my text messages.

When he banished me from the house, it stung. I thought that things between me and him were getting much better, especially after the night we'd spent together, after he'd told me he missed us. I thought we were close to making it work again. I guess I should have lowered my expectations.

I still haven't spoken to my mother. She hasn't apologized to me yet, considering she ever will, so I decided not to honour her with a single stare. If we're playing a bitch house, so be it. If she wants to act like Walter White, constantly having some secrets she won't share, then I'll be the venomous Skyler to her cryptic game.

A week without having anyone to talk to, though, apart from work colleagues, was also a nightmare. I know I could have called Mason or Connor to rant about the disastrous morning at Nathan's house, but it didn't seem right to talk to them about it. I decided to call Anaya and tell her everything, just like I always do. She listened, and listened, and said a few words of consolation. After all, that's all she could do whilst being trapped in Edinburgh with her family.

Tomorrow will be different, though. No ranting, no pitying over myself, no more thinking about Nathan. Well, the latter might be a bit tricky, especially if I have a few drinks.

Declan, Imaan, Mason and Connor included me into their plan of going out tomorrow. Saturdays were invented to let go of all the worries, which in Mason's language sounded more like "Fuck this shit, let's get pissed on Saturday." Quite a unique way of phrasing things if someone asked me, but how accurate. Maybe his way of expressing stuff helped him with communicating with Connor because they seem to have been slowly overcoming their wrangle. I feel happy for them. It's good to see them agree on things.

I flip through another page of the book that I'm reading, and I realize that I don't even remember what I just read. I close the volume and decide to grab something to drink. Maybe it'll recover my literary consciousness.

When I'm descended half the stairs, I hear my mother's voice. It's quiet but not enough to be unable to make out what she's saying. Undoubtedly, she's on the phone.

"No, she hasn't even looked at me all week," she informes, clearly speaking of me.

It catches all of my attention. I carefully sit down on one of the stairs and listen. I need to know more.

Her voice resounds again. "Yeah, okay. Bye, Lydia," she says, and there is a quiet click that her phone makes when she locks the screen.

My heart erupts in my ears. I feel the adrenaline thunder through each single one of my body cells. I jerk off the stairs. If she tells me that I hallucinated the phone call she just had, I swear, I'm going to flip this house upside down.

I dart towards her like blazes, and when I finally stop in front of her, she seems absolutely shocked by my abrupt, yet so frenetic appearance. I'm so angry. I'm fuming. I wad my hands into fists so harshly that I can feel my fingernails almost cut my skin.

She gauges the fury in my eyes and the way my chest rapidly falls up and down. "Everything okay?" Her voice is layered with bewilderment.

I want to scream. I want to shriek at her and throw something hard at the window just to establish my anger. Instead, I feel the rage prick my eyes. I am so inflamed by how calmly she sits on the sofa, as if she didn't just have that conversation. She's ready to lie to me again. I know it. I just know it, but this time, I am not letting up.

"Lydia?" My voice quavers from the overload of anger. I can feel my cheeks radiate heat. "As in Lydia Reyman!?"

Her eyes become round. She knows she can't escape now. She has to tell me.

__________

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