Chapter 23

I stir on the bed, hearing whispering around me. I feel someone running a hand through my hair.

"She had a mild anxiety attack. I was so frightened and confused." Emma says in a shaky voice.

"How is she now?" Elaina says, sounding worried.

What? Elaina? What is she doing here?

"I called Dr. Anna. She said it's normal for her to have anxiety and depression during this last month of pregnancy. She just needs a good amount of rest free of pressure," she says wistfully.

I snap my eyes open to find myself lying on the settee with my head on Elaina's lap while she caresses my hair, looking worried.

I look at Emma seated on the armchair with tears rolling down her cheeks and feel guilty for making her so anxious.

"I am sorry for scaring you," I say. My voice comes out raspy.

"It’s okay, dear," Elaina says softly with a warm smile.

"Let me get you water," Emma suggests before heading to the kitchen.

"How are you feeling right now?" Elaina asks warily.

"I feel okay."

"Don't think about what Sylvia said, okay? I won't let any danger come to you or the baby?" she says in a motherly way.

Emma walks in with a jug of water and an empty glass. She places both on the table before helping me into a sitting position.

"Thanks," I say, taking the glass of water from her. I drink the water hungrily and ask for more.

"Are you still up for shopping, or would you like to rest more?" Elaina asks.

"Shopping. Just give me a few minutes to get ready," I say, standing up.

I take the jug and glass to the kitchen and walk up the stairs to my room.

I take a shower. When I’m changing, Emma walks into the room and makes herself comfortable on my bed.

I pull my hair into a ponytail and glance at Emma who keeps sighing and whispering under her breath.

"What’s going on with you?" I ask curiously with a raised eyebrow.

Emma usually does this when she has something unsettling on her mind and doesn't have a solution. She sighs again before resting against the headboard.

"Remember I told you about the fashion gig in London?" she asks.

"Yes." She and her mom are important guests. This is the next level for her career.

"I just found out it’s on the same day that Damien leaves for Italy. I don't know what to do because it's important to me," she says, frustrated.

I sit on the bed beside her. "How long is he staying?" I ask warmly.

"He is staying for a year to help his dad manage the company," she says sadly. "This is the longest we will be apart from each other. I already miss him because he declines all my calls. He believes I’m choosing a stupid show over him, which isn't true."

She looks grim. I understand how she feels but I am very confident that Damien loves her, and he will surely come around.

"You guys just need to talk this out and find a solution," I say, trying to ease her worries.

They have misunderstandings but always sort out their issues and this one isn’t any different.

After having a talk with Emma, Elaina and I leave. Emma goes off to see Damien.

•••••••••••••

I wake up at 2:54 am to yelling coming from the living room. After debating whether I should stay in my room or investigate, I choose the latter. I grab a hairbrush for protection.

I wonder how why I think a hairbrush can possibly protect me but maybe my nonexistent ninja skills will suddenly come to me.

I leave the room and walk silently to the living room. I know for sure the voices coming from the living room can't be Damien or Emma because Emma told me she was spending the night at Damien's family’s house. I don’t know about Louis though. I wouldn't be surprised if he is unfazed by the noise because Louis can sleep through an earthquake.

Walking into the living room, I gasp at the state of the room. The settee and chairs have been pushed around the room and the glass table has a big crack down the middle. Even the two flower vases beside the TV are scattered on the floor.

Amidst all the chaos, Chance and Sam are locked in an intense staring contest. The tension between them is thick. Chance glares murderously as Sam and Sam looked scared, hurt, and a flash of something I can't detect.

I stare astounded as I make my way to them.

"What’s going on here?" I ask as my eyes flick between Sam, Chance, and back to mess in the room.

Sam looks at me and smiles in a malicious way. "Oh, you finally came to join the party. We were actually just talking about you," she says malevolently.

Before I can reply, Chance beats me to it. “It’s nothing. Go back to your room," he orders, tugging at his hair softly.

I focus my glare on him. What gives him the nerve to treat me like a child when he and his fiancée chose to throw a tantrum in the middle of the night?

"Why, love? Doesn’t she deserve to know all this is going on because of her?" she says.

I am baffled by her words. "What’s your problem? You keep blaming me for your insecurities," I say through gritted teeth.

"My problem is you," she says spitefully, pointing her index finger at me. "You keep coming in between my relationship with Chance..."

I cut her off before she can continue. "Stop accusing me! I never came between you and Chance," I say, trying to keep my anger at bay while Chance’s eyes move between us contemplating whose side he is on.

"I made sure to never interfere. I stayed away even when it hurt me. Obviously, he loves you and not me," I say, making a hand gesture.

She laughs vehemently and steps up to me, bringing her face right up to mine. "You must really be naïve to believe his lies," she says before taking a step back. "You keep flaunting that bastard in you, trying to act innocent when you are nothing but a desperate bitch looking for a father for your bastard child," she says distastefully.

My hands ball into a fist by my side as I stare at Sam with disgust. Chance tries speaking but I raise my hand and cut him off.

"I can take any insult and belligerent attitude from you, but you’ve crossed a line. Point a hand towards my child, and I won't flinch to break that hand," I say angrily.

"You want me to leave, right? Fine, I’m leaving right now," I say, throwing my hands in the air. "I was planning on leaving right when you guys got back, but I guess this is a perfect time. I wish you a happy married life, bitch." I turn away from them and head to the stairs.

Before I could make it up the stairs, she pulls me back and raises a hand to hit me on the cheek. I hold her wrist back. No way am I letting one more person hit me for saying the uncomfortable truth.

My long nails dig into her wrist, making her groan painfully. Chance moves towards us, but I stop with a serious look.

I hiss angrily and stare at the pissed lady glaring intensely at me. "I am a very nice, loving person who puts everyone’s feelings ahead of my own, but I can really cause a problem for those who cross the line when it comes to my family, most importantly my baby. Trust me, you won't like seeing me furious," I say.

I release my tight grip on her wrist as she tries pulling her hand away. She flinches as she touches the red print of my hand on her wrist. I almost feel bad.

I push those guilty feelings away. "The first thing you should know about me is that I'm not you. A lot more will make sense after that." I give her a once over before walking up the stairs to my room.

I change from my pajamas into a blue and white dress that reaches my knees. I pack my things into two large bags. I grab the bags plus my baby bag that contains everything I need during labor and my phone.

"Baby, Mommy is so sorry for doing this, but I should have done this before a long time ago," I whisper softly while pulling my two bags down the stairs with my baby bag hanging on my shoulder.

To my relief, Sam isn't in the living room. I really have no clue how intense my level of anger towards her might get.

Chance is sitting on the couch with his hair disheveled and looking disgruntled. "Where are you going with your bags?" he asks as he walks towards me. He sounds distracted.

I choose to ignore his question and continue walking to the door.

"Shiloh, go back upstairs with those bags. I won't let you leave this house, especially not this late at night," he demands. He sounds bored but stops me from moving.

I close my eyes letting the tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe my tears away before turning around. "I keep telling myself you never loved me because it is far less terrifying than the possibility that you did, but all of a sudden, and for no particular reason, you stopped," I say, laughing slightly at the end to try and hide the pain in my eyes.

He tugs his hair roughly looking frustrated and angry. "Please let not do this right now."

"Okay," I say, walking to the door.

" I am sorry for what Sam said," he says.

I sigh. Why is he doing this? He should be satisfied and cheering because I am finally leaving him in peace.

I turn around to call him off but gasp in shock. He is standing so close to me that I can feel his breath on my neck, sending my heart into overdrive.

I lift my head to look into his hazel eyes. They look haunted and filled with regret and fear.

"I really do care about you. Please don't go. I promise to stay here with you." He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear and places his forehead against mine.

I blink. My words are trapped in my mouth. I gulp, not knowing what to say or do but I guess I don't need to do anything because he locks his lips with mine.

My eyes grow wide while his eyes remain closed, savoring the taste of my lips.

Finding my strength, I push him away, breaking the kiss. I feel disoriented, and most importantly, confused by his change of attitude.

"Stop playing with my feelings. It makes me feel so frantic," I say, breathing hard. "You've made your choice and there's nothing I can do," I say concisely.

"But you are the one I choose, " he says softly.

"No, I don't think you want me in your life anymore. And I have to find a way to live with that," I say, poking my index finger into his chest to emphasize each word. "You said you would still be there for me, but I don't want to be a mere courtesy—a slave for your guilt."

He tries holding my wrist, but I pull my hand away and stare into his eyes with confidence and determination.

"You won't hear from me again after today. I don't want you to worry. I'll be okay because I have to be."

I open the little purse attached to one of my bags and pull out the money I promised to give him for the car. His eyes follow my every movement.

"I promised to pay for the car, so here it is," I say, giving him the money, but he doesn’t make a move to take it.

"Shiloh, I don't need this. I just need you here with me. Please don't give up on our love," he pleads with tears running down his cheeks.

I feel a pang in my heart when I see the tears rolling down his cheeks, but I can't do this anymore. It’s just too late. He has broken my heart so many times. Too many times. And I can’t just forget.

I turn away letting the tears out as I pick up my bags. "We are an example of why not to fall in love. It always ends up with broken and shattered pieces of your heart," I say as I place the money on the couch.

I walk to my parked car. I place the bags in the car then stare one last time at the house then get into the car and drive to a place where I can find closure and peace.

I park in the church parking lot and get out. The light in the church is dim with a few people. Some are praying while some sleep, but all in all, it is peaceful and quiet. Just what I need at the moment.

I will stay here for a few minutes. I take a seat on a long bench in the back that is directly opposite the altar. I stare silently ahead, not knowing how to start.

"It was hard. It was really hard for a long time, and it still is,” I say softly, wiping tears away. “I never imagined my life would turn out this way." My voice sounds pained and breaks. "Please tell me why every decision I try to make always harms me in return." I let the tears roll down my cheeks.

"I know you’re angry at me right now, but please tell me what to do because I am so weary and traumatized," I say, putting my hands together in front of me, pleading with my eyes closed. "And Lord Jesus, protect my family and friends, including Chance. Always put a smile on their faces."

"My family and Chance’s love were taken from me, and you can still take anything away from me. Take it all if you want, but please, please let me keep my baby with me," I plead desperately.

I say the Lord's prayer before opening my eyes. I wipe away my tears and stand.

I walk outside, and to my surprise, Chance is standing beside his car.

"How did you know I was here? And what are you doing here?" I ask, stunned. I walk towards him but keep a lot of space between us.

He looks at me. "I put a tracker on your car, and it led me here." He shrugs and moves closer to me.

"Don't come any closer," I say, glaring at him. Taking my instruction, he stops moving.

A chilly breeze blows around us. We don't have an audience since we are the only ones in the parking lot.

"I am here because I can't bring myself to let go, and we both know you have nowhere to go," he says.

"Chance, just leave me alone. I am seriously demoralized right now," I say, trying to sound calm. "I really don't have the strength to argue right now."

"Then stop being an emotional bitch and get in the car. Let’s go back home," he says angrily.

"Excuse me? Did you just call me a bitch? While you’re trying to get me to go home with you? And home? That place never felt like home to me because you kept shoving it in my face that my stay was only temporary—both in your life and in that house," I say through gritted teeth.

"Don't blame this on me because I told you to lock down all your feelings for me," he says harshly.

"I love you," I say firmly, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "With all the shattered pieces of my heart, I love you. And if that’s not good enough, then don't drag this out. Let me go," I say confidently. His eyes shine with regret, but I really don't care anymore.

"If I can't have your heart, then you can't keep mine prisoner. That's how it works, love. You don't get to have it all," I say. My breath comes out labored.

"Shiloh—" I cut him off, groaning as my face scrunches up in pain. "Are you alright?" he asks worriedly.

If I wasn't in so much pain right now, I would be laughing hard at his anxious look.

"I'm alright," I force out as I feel water roll down my legs. Another painful contraction hits me.

"Chance, the baby. Take me to a hospital," I cry out, blowing air through my mouth to try and ease the pain. I smack Chance's hands away as he tries holding me.

"Go get the baby bag from my car," I say, placing my hands on his car to keep myself from falling.

Chance takes the car keys from me and rushes to my car. He picks me up bridal style and places me in the back seat.

He drives fast to the hospital while trying to soothe me from crying.

In no time, we reach the hospital, and Chance rushes in to get a nurse while I keep crying to get the child out of me. The door opens and Chance places me in a wheelchair in a panicked state. The three nurses help take me into a room where they place me on a bed before sending Chance away.

I breathe hard, clutching the sheet tightly as sweat rolls down my face and neck. A male doctor walks in and stands in front of me. My legs have been pulled apart by one of the nurses and a blue cloth covers my exposed thighs.

"Young lady, you have to push when you feel the next contraction, okay?" he says warmly.

I nod. I feel so weak I can barely even form a word. When I feel the next contraction, I push. I breathe heavily.

"Try it one more time," he encourages me. His hands are concealed between my thighs.

I push one more time, feeling exhausted.

"Okay, one last time."

I push on his instruction and close my eyes. I have a strong urge to take a nap. The doctor sighs as I feel something slip through me, but I am actually too weak to concentrate on anything. All I can do is close my eyes and sleep.

"Doctor, we are losing her," a female voice announces, sounding alarmed.

Ignoring the reason for her distress, I close my eyes and welcome the consoling darkness.