It's his lost, not mine.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

                “What? Are you sure? Are you sure it’s mine?” Rick asked unable to accept the truth.

                “Of course it’s yours, you’re the only man I slept with!” I responded as I put my hand on my stomach.

                How could he think that it’s not his?

                “But... how? Stace, we were careful.”

                “No we weren’t, this child is yours. Why can’t you accept that?!”

                “I can’t accept it. It will ruin my career. I mean, think about it. Being a father in the age of 18? I... I can’t Stace... I just can’t.” He sighed.

                “A-are you abandoning us Rick? Are you abandoning your own child for your stupid career?!” I can’t believe he’ll abandon his child!

                He looked at me in the eye and I could see sadness written all over him.

                “I’m sorry Stace. I just can’t be a father... I love my career.” He sighed and started to walk away from us.

                “Love your career?! F*ck with you! You love your career more than your child!” I shouted.

                He stopped for a moment but he just walked away. I fell on my knees and cried. The man I love, and the father of my child... walked away from us.

                “I’m sorry... I’m sorry....” Kept echoing in my head. His face smiling...

                His voice started to become louder. I covered my ears but it didn't stop! I screamed in pain....

                I gasped for air as I open my eyes and wake up from another dream. I sat down and took deep breaths. It’s been 6 years, 6 years ever since Rick abandoned us. Why does that scene always pops in my mind all the time! I looked at the time and it was 6:30 in the morning. I got up from bed and opened the curtains. As I looked out, I could see the sun nearly out. The people were starting to go to work and I have mine. I’m Stace Fletcher by the way, 24 years old.

                I went in the bathroom and took a hot shower. As the water touched my skin, it slowly adopted to the heat. After 20 minutes, I changed in black skinny jeans, a white long sleeve shirt with a red rose design in the middle. I wore my 3 inch high heal and dried my hair. I could smell the strawberry scent as I brushed it and let it fall on my shoulders. I looked at the mirror and fixed my brunet hair and put a light makeup.

                I went out of my room and went in front of Tracy, my daughter’s bed room. I slowly opened the door not attempting to make a sound. I sat on her small princess like bed and just stared at her. She was sound asleep; I bend down and whispered in her ear.

                “Réveiller ma chérie. Le soleil est déjà haut (Wake up sweetie. The sun’s already up.)” I whispered softly.

                You might be wondering why I’m speaking French. Well that’s because, after Rick abandoned us, I insisted to go to France and fulfil my dream of being a photographer and sometime an organizer of parties.

                Tracy turns her back on me with her eyes shut. Ignoring me.

                “Je suis encore fatigué maman (I’m still sleepy mommy.)” she yawned still sounding sleepy.