The Baby Pact

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Christine, love, you have school tomorrow and it's your final day of bed rest. Why don't you come downstairs for dinner?" I hear Lauri's voice say from the bedrooms door, but my head is turned towards the baby pink walls of the bedroom I share with Rose.

"No thanks," I mutter and I hear her sigh before shutting the door quietly.

I think back to last week, the news that spiraled my downfall.

"Christine...he's dead."

Dead.

My head began to spin, my heart squeezed and I felt like vomiting then and there. But for so, so many reasons.

He's dead. My children's father is dead. They won't ever get to know their biological dad, or even have the reassurance that he's alive. They won't get to know how he talks, acts, walks or laughs. They won't know anything, except for the fact that he's their dad.

And I left off on horrible terms with him, telling him he couldn't be a part of the babies lives. Telling him how much I hated him for what he's done to me, and how much he wanted to work for these kids. And he died, in the middle of that argument.

I felt like shit. Like absolute shit. My mind became blurry and I couldn't sit up straight. I swayed until I felt strong hands stable my shoulders.

Slowly, one by one, everyone got up from the bed until I was the only one left on it. They all looked at me with pitiful eyes, and that was the last thing I wanted.

I didn't deserve their pity.

So I lied down, faced the wall so they couldn't see the tears escaping my eyes and making a trail down my cheeks.

"Christine-" Rose starts but I'm quick to cut her off.

"Please...just leave me alone," I whispered and I can hear Lauri mutter something to them, and soon enough everyone filed out of the room until I was the only one left.

My phone had buzzed as soon as the door shut, and I grabbed it to see who could possibly be messaging me at that moment.

My sister's name popped up onto the screen.

"Are you okay? You were on the news." Is what her text message read. And my heart began to hurt at the fact that she sent him here to me, that she couldn't bother to contact me until then. That she didn't care.

"Fuck you." Is all I responded back. I had set down my phone, turning it off for the rest of the night.

And so I lied there, and cried until I felt like I had ran out of tears to cry.

And just accepted the fact that...that Dominic is gone.

He's dead.

His funeral was yesterday, but I wasn't able to attend since I'm on bed rest.

I had struggled to eat, but my hunger won over my depression of the situation, and so I continued to eat an amount I knew I was required to.

My bruises were much lighter now, the scab on my forehead now just a scar.

Being on bed rest was the best week for what was going on in my head, so I could cry whenever I wanted and I didn't have to get up to talk to anyone.

The only effort I put anything into was getting my school work done while watching Netflix. I couldn't afford for my grades to be worse, and my job at the diner understood the fact that I was on bed rest.