The Summer I Went Sailing {L.H}. ~ Book 3

Chapter Four

"I'm a fucking independent woman with a real job and my own money, Luke. I don't need you to pay for everything." I moaned at him. The moment of love was short-lived; he was pissing me off asking so many fucking questions and offering so many kind gestures.

"I know babe, it's only dinner." He said as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket and putting his hand in the back pocket of my jeans, clearly just trying to get a feel of my ass. "You've suddenly became very tetchy when it comes to the subject of money. Why is that?"

We reached the car and both climbed in.

"It's just- well I earn my own money that I work just as hard for, and I don't want people to think I'm sponging off you." I admitted. He started up the car and drove off.

"No one thinks that." Luke replied, doubt laced through his voice like tattered strings on your old, worn out converses.

"The internet and media thinks otherwise." Did he think I was stupid? That I didn't see all of the comments and assumptions people made of me? I'm blind to it in the sense that I keep everything extremely private; but I'm not dumb to it. I know people have this perception of me and once they know I'm pregnant with his child, it's only going to get worse. But my baby is my priority and no amount of idiotic, mindless online trolls would break me down.

"I love you and so does both our families, we don't need anyone else apart from that. You got it?" Luke said authoritatively.

"Got it, babe." I replied, a smile playing on my lips.

We reached back to my place around nine and Gloria was sitting on the sofa, watching trash reality TV and crunching on an overflowing bowl of cereal when we wandered in. Gloria had literally been my rock. I loved Mason; really I did. But he's not exactly got a way with words, has he? Gloria is much more sympathetic to my situation. AKA, my excuse to not taking out the trash is that I'm pregnant and I don't want to climb the stairs as it could cause strain. Of course, she complies; and of course, I'm completely able to climb the stairs and being pregnant is just an excuse. Oh well.

"What's up kiddos?"She grinned. Her face was covered in yellow paint and all in her Afro; making her look like she'd just jumped in a tin of happiness. "I worked with the pre-school children today, that's why I'm covered in paint."

"It suits you." Luke joked and Gloria snorted. 

"Why where you working with kids? I thought you taught high schoolers?" I asked, kicking off my shoes and throwing myself down onto the sofa. Luke followed in suit.

"Some special arts class for little people; maybe you're kid will come some day?" Gloria grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth.

"Maybe." I said.

"Do you think you'll find out the sex of the baby?" G asked,  and then spooned some Captain Crunch into her mouth.

Luke and I looked at each other. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't mind." He said. Ugh, why was he so fucking nice? And sweet? And handsome, yet rugged. And funny, but serious. Why was he so fucking perfect?

"It's for both of us to decide." I said to him.

"You're carrying it, everything is your decision."

"Well you're the dad, so you need to be involved in the decision." I replied, my face getting a little flushed.

"But it's your body."
"Yes, I know Luke. And I appreciate your respect for me. But I want you to be just as involved."
"Am I not already involved?" He spat back, clearly getting annoyed. Gloria couldn't have sunk further into her seat if she tried. If she could've melted into to the sofa, she would've.

"Yes. I'm just reiterating the fact." Luke fiddled with the hem of his shirt as I continued my probably un-called for rant. "We're in this together Luke, so I want us to make these kinds of decisions together."

I don't know why suddenly I was on the defense? Everything was suddenly beginning to feel real to me and all I wanted was to provide a stable, loving home for my- our child. And the thought that maybe Luke didn't want to make certain decisions with me, decisions I felt as a couple we should make, where slowly but surely building up the worry in my mind. Where the cracks already starting to show?

"I have been involved Mila, for fuck sake. As soon as I found out you where pregnant I got the first flight back to be with you." Luke replied exasperatingly.

"So you're only with me because of the baby?" I knew I was picking bones out now, but I couldn't help it. Luke flung his hands in the air in frustration before throwing them back down so that they thumped onto the fabric of the sofa and made a loud noise.

"No!" He protested, "I love you, and I love our baby! I wasn't going to walk away from all that, like how you-" He cut himself off.

"Go on Luke? Finish what you had to say." I stood up and hovered over him. "Like I did? How I ended everything? Sorry for choosing not to give up my dream, just so you could continue yours." That was a low blow, even for me.

"Well you didn't come did you? But we're together now. So what does it matter? We're bound by this baby and there's no scissors that could cut the ties." He said.

"Do you want me to find a pair of garden shears? Because if you want to cut them, I will Luke." I threatened. Why am I like this? "I don't want someone who can't be in this with me one hundred percent."

Gloria sat awkwardly, probably wishing she'd never broached the subject. Luke appeared enraged.

"What the fuck, Mila? Do you honestly think that?" He asked. Standing up from where he was sitting, Luke towered above me like a great, old willow tree. His stance was tense and I felt like I could cut the atmosphere with a knife. Or we could just use the knife to cut the ties that where apparently binding us together now. Whatever works.

I'm so petty.

"I'm going for a shower." I announce and walk away from our little stand off.

"Good. Your attitude stinks." Luke growls at me as he flings himself back down. I give him a dirty look and slam the bathroom door so that the shelf attached to the wall rattles and my dressing gown falls off the hook on the back of the door. I didn't bother to pick it up.

You know that thing you do when you're angry? When everything is just annoying and so everything, every action you do is with such friction and hostility? I practically rip the fabric of my clothes as I tear them from my body and throw them to the floor, and then proceed to pull out half my hair as I un-tug the hair tie from my messy, blonde mop.

Standing in front of myself in the mirror, I look at my stomach; the curve of my hips and the roundness of my thighs. Everything I used to hate, I now tried to love.

I remembered the summer I'd came back fighting fit and my blonde hair a chocolate waterfall. The piercing in my nose I'd had was now just as small, scarred reminder of everything and the stretch marks striped like a proud tigers all over me. Turning to the side; I tried to find any evidence of my little human. But there was nothing expect from a the usual skin that stuck out a little and a red line from the tightness of my jeans. She'd show eventually.

For whatever reason, I felt it was a girl. I didn't share this with Luke but there was something in my heart- and my stomach- that just told me in a few months we'd be holding a little girl, her skin brown like mine, with sandy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes like Luke's. Our own little summer by the beach.

I couldn't wait; I was just being moody in that last argument.

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A/N

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