The Blossom of Rose

15 • Traumatised

♕ Rose ♕

"Your father scares me sometimes," I watch his retreating figure and place a hand on my stomach, "but not as much as your grandfather does."

My eyes shut at the memories. Useless. Whore. Waste of space. Glass shattering. Knife stabbing. Stars dancing. Black eyes. Bruises. "No," I shut it down, "I refuse to accept that man as your grandfather. You are not his grandchild."

I feel so embarrassed that I cried, no I sobbed, in front of Luca because of my dad. I think he was a little irritated because he just sat there for the first minute doing nothing.

At least he thinks your eyes are pretty. Yeah, and he also got annoyed that I didn't kiss him when I told him that we can't do that anymore. Not if I'm going to be engaged to Andre.

Just wait for his reaction when he finds that out. I'm dreading it. I most definitely have to tell him before it gets announced otherwise Andre might just permanently disappear.

"I better get back to your flowerbed." I stand. I made this promise to myself that whenever I fell pregnant I would plant a flowerbed for my baby and by the time they were born it would be complete and bursting with different colours.

It's random, I know, but I've always wanted children of my own. I thought my children will give me life and love me for who I am, not use me for their benefit, not insult me, not break my heart. I don't even want to get married, I just want kids.

Well, part of your wish is coming true and the other part not so much.

I stand and pick up the napkin stained with his blood. His blood. When I tell him I'm pregnant, there's a chance that he won't believe that it's his child despite him being the only person I've slept with since I've been back. But, if I have evidence, he can't deny it.

Carefully, I hold the corner that is still white and make my way inside. Opening multiple kitchen cupboards, I finally find a sealable bag and place it in there.

"I take back everything," I almost jump ten feet in the air and tuck the bag into my back pocket when I see Aunt Brie standing in the doorway, "that bartender in Prague was not the best guy you've slept with."

"He worked for my dad," I remind her. That's the closest he ever came to finding me. She grabs a bottle of wine from the glass cabinet and pours herself a glass. I'm about to accept her offer when she tilts the bottle towards me but I'm forced to decline it. I can't even drink for another 6 months! How am I going to survive without my daily glasses of wine at dinner?

"But," she takes a seat on the stool, "he didn't rat you out." I'm hungry. A packet of chocolate Oreos sits on the counter. No, that's too sweet by itself. My stomach calls for a mix of salty and sweet and an idea struck me. I take the cream cheese and a butter knife out.

"He was just so blown away by me," I relay sarcastically and dramatically flick my hair over my shoulder but then remember that it's tied up so it didn't actually flick. She challenges the level of sarcasm in my tone and eyes the snack that I'm making.

"If you ask me, it's very stupid to send an attractive young man on the hunt for your attractive young daughter. It was inevitable you were going to sleep together," she sips her wine and I spread the cream cheese on top of the oreo. Taking a bite, I moan in delight as the contents crumble in my mouth and I love the sweet and sour taste to it. It's a perfect balance. I offer Aunt Bri some but she scrunches her face up and I shrug.

"My dad didn't know that. If he wasn't so adamant that I'd marry Samuel, I'd still be a virgin," I say and she raises an accusing eyebrow flitting her eyes in the direction of the garden. Ah, right. The baby daddy.