Ebony & Ivory [H.S]

Sixty-Seven

Before I get to the chapter, I just want to address something here. I've been reading a few comments here and there along the lines of "Ebony doesn't deserve this" and it's unfair and all that. No disrespect to the people that wrote it, because I love reading all my comments, (and I promise I'm not mad or having a dig!) but I wanted to point something out. No woman in any circumstance deserves to miscarriage. Miscarriage sadly isn't a rarity in society, and that's reflected in my story. She has had a troubling year, but she is still considered fortunate by a world standard. She is of good health, financially secure, has a parent figure as well as close friends in her life. People get through rough patches all the time, so you need to have more faith in who Ebony is as a person. Thank you all for reading x

"I'm never gonna let you close to me, even though you mean the most to me, 'cause every time I open up, it hurts"

I wake feeling surprisingly well rested. Sunshine streaming through my bedroom, with the warmth of a body behind me, spooning me to sleep.

Celia.

I never realised how much I truly missed her until I saw her in person before me, wide eyed and open mouthed - I was the past person on earth that she expected to see. The sorry looking broken vase she was holding at the time is testament to that.

Before long, the memories or the night before come flooding back to me, hanging heavy over my body, threatening to take me back down with them. I don't want to go back there to that place, though that doesn't stop the thoughts and questions that continue to swirl around in my mind.

Celia was almost as shocked as I. Of course she had no idea he had gotten a girl pregnant, and even less that it was with Essie; or Ebony of all people - her stylist, for fücks sake. He could have impregnated anyone on the planet, and it happens to be with a girl who I very much like. I almost feel stupid that it was her all this time. The answers were right there in front of me, and yet the answer I needed was kept from me as I was asking all the wrong questions.

Did she know about me?

I've gone over the question in my mind numerous times, but ultimately I don't believe that she could have known. I mean, had she have known, I don't believe she would be willing to help me of all people out.