Chapter Eight

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Another week of silence.

This time, despite my own protests, I missed him. Which is completely ridiculous and illogical. I couldn't understand why my mind was so fixated on the idea of pursuing something with a man like Axel. He was attractive yes, but in no way was it a good thing that he wanted to... I was repeating to myself the same words, over and over again.

He wants Revenge.

He wants my ruin.

He is faking.

No matter how many times I said those things aloud and in my head they never seemed to sink in. His words about Athena still struck a nerve.

Bastard.

But it was like my mind disregarded that statement, reasoning that it wasn't Athena he was talking about. It was though, no matter how I looked at it, he had said he didn't want a bastard child to me. The fact that he didn't know he had a child did not absolve him from that comment.

Axel had a child.

Axel had a daughter.

The idea that he had a child he didn't know about started to make me feel guilty, the vindictive side of me wanted to keep her from him. To never give him the chance to see her, but that wasn't fair to my daughter, despite his behaviour to me it could be different with her, right?

I had started to write him a letter, I don't think I could ever tell him in person with my words. I know I would freeze, then whimp out. I would leave before I blurted it out or started a fight. I chewed my lip and groaned into my hands, it was a Saturday and Athena had taken it upon herself to become the spawn of Satan. I seriously doubted that in moments like this that she had come from me, it was like looking at a complete stranger. Days like these made me reconsider having a child and had serious questions about what the hype was. It was one of those days I felt guilty for thinking that I should have gotten an abortion.

My day started at 5:30 in the morning when she had an accident, as in wet the bed. Athena was very good at her potty training, so I didn't understand her sudden accident. She came into my room screaming at me to wake up and 'Fix her bed!' I was not and could not be mad about that, just her attitude after it.

After a shower to clean her up and changing her sheets and bedding we went to the kitchen. When I got her dressed and ready again she wouldn't stop crying, consistently over the smallest things, like when she dropped her toast, she cried like it was the end of the world.

I think she had it out for me today though, cause I told her to hold her hot chocolate, which was warm for her, with two hands but she blatantly ignored me and picked it up with one, not only spilling it everywhere, on herself included but she let the cup roll off the bench. She literally sat there and watch it roll away, it smashed on the ground when I couldn't catch it in time and she cried, again.

It wasn't even 6am. When I got clothes for her to wear she protested with screams and wailing 'nos' so I did the logical thing and let her choose. She picked her clothes and she happily did as if she weren't just throwing a tantrum over what to wear, when I went to change her she threw another crying fit saying she didn't want to wear those clothes. So I stood back, told her to dress herself and sat on her bed waiting for the ordeal to be over. I closed my eyes for one second and she screamed at me that she couldn't find her pony socks.

"They are in front of you Athena," I said impatiently.

It took her five minutes, more screaming, pointing them out and literally putting them in her hands before she calmed down and finished dressing herself. She wore her pink pony socks over white leggings, an orange skirt I thought I had thrown away and a lime green polo shirt with a denim jacket.

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