[[BOOK 2]]
Noah thought he had seen the last of Veronica after she up and left without a trace while he was on tour. But one drunken encounter proves to them both that you can't always run away from your past.
Veronica's different after two yea...
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"Veronica. What the fuck is this?"
Fuck
My chest is heavy, tightening with fear unlike any I have ever felt before as I gawk at the papers sprawled out before me. The ultrasound I meant to trash a long time ago, papers of my confirmation of termination, and the journal filled with only one self loathing entry displayed for me to see. I kept it all under my bed for a while, my dirty little secret I head wall to myself. Not being able to let go of what had happened to me. Not being able to let go of what could of been. Truthfully, once Noah came back into my life I was unable to even think of the old shoe box full of my past that laid under my bed. Never thinking anyone, let alone him, would find it.
"Noah. Please let me explain" I try to reason. Seeing his eyes grow dark with a nearly uncontrollable rage, and my heart sweeps with fear as he stands. His fists drawn into a tight ball at his sides as he walks over to me. One meticulous foot after the other, I watch his nostril flare and veins begin to protrude angrily. A deep sadness kissing his glossy eyes, and making them nearly black.
"Oh? You want me to give you a second to explain your side? Like the many times you gave me?" He growls, his voice kissed with a distaste I have never heard from him.
It's unearthing and makes my body tremble with disgust. Guilt racking my bones , and cornering me somewhere between panic and rage.
I grimace, biting back tears as I take in his grating tone. I know he is right. Even if it is a low blow, it's still true. I never once gave him the opportunity to give his side of the story when he wanted to. When he begged, I kept my mind narrow and my heart guarded. My opinion made up all on my own without caring to hear his side.
Oh how the tables have turned.
"I know I was wrong for that. But if you give me a minute I promise I-" I begin but I am cut off when he angrily picks up the ultrasound and lifts it above his chest. His eyes seething with emotion that I can't pick apart, the base of them pooling with liquid that he's fighting hard to keep back. His lips are curled with a pensive grin that causes pain to bellow down on my chest.
"You were pregnant. And you didn't bother to even fucking tell me? The only reason I found out was because the stupid fucking cat ran under your bed and got into your box of secrets!" He barks, looking at the photo for a moment before crumbling it in his palms and fisting it against his chest.
My heart sinks at the sight, a wave of panic taking over and causing my hands to tingle with a blind anger. He can't discard the only thing I have left of him, her.. it. That isn't his place. And the thought of his disregard makes me ignite with a rage so fierce my body starts to convulse.
"Don't fucking do that" I snap, snatching away the picture and unwrinckling it across the island that's decorated with a table cloth and plates packed full of my favorite foods. It's only now that I fully take in the decorated space before me. The ballon arch hung just above the balcony door. The streamers hanging from the ceiling and happy birthday printed on every plate and cup that sits neatly on the counters. I feel the tears spring to my eyes before anything else, and I can't hold them back. Hot liquid falling from my eyes and clouding my vision as I look from the now flawed photo to Noah, my breath catching in my throat.
