Chapter 7

"You can't be serious," I say, taking a bite of oatmeal while staring at Emma bewildered.

"I am serious. My dad actually called Damien asking him to keep an eye on me," she says with all seriousness in her voice.

"So, he actually believes you are dating Josh?" I ask on the verge of bursting into laughter.

Her dad mistook a guy she met in one of her classes as her new boyfriend after the constant texting and phone calls between them. Her dad loves Damien as a potential son-in-law, so he told Damien about the new development.

"You can let your laughter out," she urges, making me laugh loudly at her expense.

"How did Damien take the information?" I inquire while chuckling and trying to mellow myself down.

"He was so infuriated that he immediately went after Josh and beat him so badly," she says with a scowl and trying to hide a smile.

"I can only imagine what your reaction was," I say, taking another bite from my oatmeal.

"I explained everything to him," she says, smirking as she pulls out a pack of Doritos chips. "He asked for forgiveness, and he also paid for Josh’s hospital bills," she says before filling her mouth with potato chips.

"Can you pass me some potato chips?" I ask, craving some.

"In your dreams," she says, pulling the Doritos away from me.

"Come on, I thought you loved me. Besides, my baby is craving one," I say, playing the baby card to get her to let me have one.

"I am giving you this only because of my godchild," she says, throwing a pack towards me.

"Thanks. Your godchild is so proud of you," I said. I grinned widely and placed my empty bowl on the table before opening the pack of chips.

"Have you communicated with your mum yet?" she inquired, staring into my eyes.

I avert my eyes from hers, focusing my attention on the table in the middle of her well-decorated room. "Not yet," I say shortly.

"What’s deterring you from calling her?" she says. Her voice is laced with concern and another emotion I can’t place.

"It’s just..." I pause, contemplating my words. "It’s just, I don't know what to say to her after her constant warnings," I say, my voice breaking with emotions I’ve been trying to hide.

"Try conversing with her. Maybe she will understand," she says, sounding skeptical because we both know my mum so well.

Mum isn't someone who just accepts that you made a mistake. She will constantly call you out on it. She critiques without caring about a person’s feelings because she believes in being blunt rather than lying.

"She will never understand because she told me this would happen someday," I say staring into her eyes as silence overwhelms us. "And it hurts me to say she was right all along, that one day Chance would leave me but not without wrecking my heart," I say with a painful smile.

She pulls me into her warm embrace and runs her hands along my back to calm the sound of my breaking heart. But I refuse to shed any more tears for my lost battle, for the love I lost.

"I have to be strong because all this frailty will not help my situation," I say, withdrawing from her embrace with a forced smile. Even though she sees right through it, it feels good to smile in the face of grief.

"I will always be here," she says holding my hands and assuring me.

"Okay, it’s late now. I need to go back to my room," I say. I grab my empty plate and the half-eaten pack of chips since I lost my appetite.

"Goodnight," I say as I walk out of her room and go towards the kitchen.

I step into the kitchen to find Chance sitting on a stool by the counter with a glass and bottle of alcohol.

He was looking drowsy with his hair disheveled. He was looking into space while twirling the tip of his finger along the rim of the glass.

I was surprised to see him in such a manner. Though he drinks sometimes, this scene right here is nothing like the Chance I knew.

I thought it was best to ignore his presence, so I put the plate into the dishwasher before placing my half-eaten chips in a cupboard.

I stare at him from the corner of my eye. He continues sipping from his drink and staring into space. It seems he’s ignoring my presence as well, or maybe he still hasn't noticed my presence in the room.

I grab a glass and fill it with water. Glancing his way again, I feel the need to talk to him.

"Chance, what’s going on?" I ask, but he ignores my existence like always.

I gulp down the water before making my way towards him and placing my hand on his shoulder. He tenses under my touch.

"Chance, is anything the matter?" I ask.

He downs the last of his drink before leaving the kitchen without sparing me a glance. I’m bewildered, but I shrug it off and head to my room. In the bathroom, I wash my face before going back into the bedroom.

As soon I rest my head against the pillow, I sigh in relief. I stare at the ceiling and think about what just happened in the kitchen.

He looked so depleted and so deep in thought like he was carrying the world’s problems on his shoulders. I felt at fault for the way he looked, but he must realize that he’s at fault as well.

Maybe I should look for a job soon to try saving for a better future for myself. I could try getting my own house and a source of income, then I would be out of his hair.

My phone rings on my nightstand and without thinking to check the caller ID, I pick up.

"Shiloh?" my mother’s soft, calming voice almost brings tears to my eyes.

"Yeah, Mum," I say, resting my back on the headboard. "What's going on?"

"I should be the one asking you that after not picking up any of my calls and not even calling me back," she says sounding disgruntled.

"Mum, I’m sorry, things are just so complicated," I say, trying to calm her down.

"Mind explaining what’s going on with you and Chance?" she says. Her anger disappears as concern clouds her voice.

"What do you mean, Mum?" I ask, treading carefully in case she doesn't know anything.

"I mean, how is Chance taking the news of you being pregnant?"

I sigh in relief. "He is actually happy I am having his child soon," I lie.

I was never good at telling lies but it seems some situations can change you.

"That’s good. I am still trying to get your father to reconsider his decision," she says, sounding distant.

"I miss you, Mum. I wish I could see you right now," I say with a shaky voice, but I push back the sad feelings.

"I miss you too, dear," she says. Her voice breaks slightly like she’s holding back tears.

"Okay, goodnight, Mum," I say, and I hang up.

I lay on my side and watch the curtain swing from side to side as the wind blows into the room. Standing up, I move towards the window and pull the window shut before going back to bed.

The ticking of the clock on the nightstand, the sounds of crickets chirping outside, and the moonlight illuminating the room lull me into a peaceful sleep.