Lose my number? Not your angel?
I am the worst when I’ve been hurt. I never thought he’d be the one to hurt me though. EVER. He seemed so sincere. Now it’s over. How could he do this to me? I need to talk to someone, but I also don’t want to bash him too badly because I am most definitely three months pregnant. The rest of our lives are going to be connected, even if we are not together. I am going to be the mother of his child.
However, I know anything I say about him will make my friends and family hate him, and I won’t do that to my baby. Besides Carrie-Ann is on her honey/baby moon and my parents are in Fiji for two weeks. That leaves Migan, who is if Carrie-Ann’s wedding was any indication, super busy with Torran, but that is another story.
So, I am keeping this to myself. At least until I know more. This kind of drama isn’t good for a pregnant woman, right? I have been drowning myself in plain vanilla ice cream, since that is all I can tolerate right now. I’d love to have a margarita though.
Laying down on my ugly couch, ice cream forgotten I think about the way things should have been for us. I thought we’d get married and keep having beautiful babies together.
The way he talked to me while he was inside me, I was so sure we wanted the same things. It dawns on me that I never told him I was pregnant. I wanted to do it in person and bought a greeting card from a handcrafted online store. It’s says “Congratulations, you are going to be a great DILF.” I thought it was perfect to use and slightly funny. Inside, I wrote how excited I was to be starting this journey with him and how much I loved him. Love him. Because I do.
Do you ever really stop loving your first love? I don’t know how I am ever going to love someone other than my baby, more than him. He was, is everything to me. Great, now I am crying again. In the two hours since I told him to lose my number, he has called back to back. Nonstop. I have forty-seven unread texts. I can’t even bring myself to read them.
I do however, torture myself with the fucking picture that bitch posted on social media. If she hadn’t tagged him, I never would have seen it. That seems a little suspect to me. At first, I was focused on the fact that his lips were on hers. My heart instantly broke. Never has anyone had that kind of power over me. The more I stare at the picture, I think there is a look of surprise and perhaps anger on his face. That could be wishful thinking on my part though. I realize I have fallen asleep on the couch again, when I jerk awake. It’s dark outside, but the light over the stove in the kitchen is on and there is a warm glow over the room.
The melted ice cream on the coffee table prompts me to get off the couch. I clean up the mess and head for the shower. Crying in the shower is wonderful for clearing your head. When I get out, I am revitalized, and I know what I must do. Without bothering to do anything with my hair, which is hanging in a dripping mess I pull on my hot pink silk robe over my wet skin. It feels amazing, since my skin has been extra sensitive lately. Back in the living room, I pick up my phone. I realize it has been over six hours since Perry has called or texted me. Damn, I must have been tired.
Have I missed my chance to hear his side of things? I start to panic. Even though it looks as though he kissed her, am I willingly going to put myself through the ache of being without him?
As much as I want to say I would be strong enough to do this without him, the answer is no. I love him too fucking much. We are about to have a family. There is nothing I want more than that with him.
Can I forgive him? Yes. A part of loving someone is forgiving them.
I start listening to his voicemails first. There are just five. Fuck, the sound of his voice makes my nipples pebble and my pussy slick. Too bad he’s not here and I am mad at him. The gist of the messages is that he loves me and that he’s sorry. The texts are what gets me though.
Angel? Please answer your phone…
That is not what it looked like…
Please…I love you.
Talk to me…
Give me a chance to explain…
The more I read, the more desperation I see in his texts. And fuck, I am already crying again. My face must look like one giant, angry, red, and splotchy.
Scrolling through the rest of them, I get to the last one.
Forget this.
Forget this? Did I ruin us by not answering him sooner? Knowing him the way that I do, I believe him when he says it wasn’t what it looked like.
I am startled out of my thoughts by a frantic knocking at the door. It sounds like when cops knock on doors on tv. Jumping up, I run and answer the door without first checking who it is.
“Perry?” I say, staring at the man I love. He looks me up and down.
“This is what you wear when you open the door?” He growls.
Looking down, I see that my super short robe, that barely covers my body is soaked through. The water dripping from my hair has made the silk practically see through on my tits and it’s suctioned to my body everywhere else. I can clearly see the outline of my pussy through the material.
Oops.