Part 57 (2/2)

I almost felt like there should have been more said at the funeral, but there really wasn't. It was a simple funeral with very few people. There wasn't even a graveside service per Mr. Callaway's request.

Drew opened my door and held my wrist before I could slide in. ”I'm sorry, Morgan. I'm trying my best to comprehend that my wife may be carrying another man's child,” he said. I could understand that. I touched his cheek and smiled, letting him know that I understood.

”Can't you pin point the time frame. I can't stand not knowing,” Drew said on the drive back to the house.

f.u.c.k...

”No, Drew. I can't do that. I was with you three times in the two days that you were in Maine, and I was with him three times the following day.”

Drew shook his head. He was angry again. I would be too, I guess.

I looked down at my phone and saw that I had a missed call from Dawson.

What the f.u.c.k? Neither of them had called the whole time I was at my moms. Not once did either of them call to see how I was, and now they both decide to pop back into my life at the same time.

Drew sent Marta home as soon as we were back.

He went into his office and I followed, removing my heels. I watched as he typed in the search.

”Can you have a paternity test while being pregnant?”

”Drew, I'm not even a hundred percent sure that I am pregnant,” I protested.

”You're a week late, you have been sick for the past two mornings, but feel better shortly after. You are tired, and hungry. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure you're pregnant.”

”There!” he said, excited.

You could have a paternity test while being pregnant. I didn't know that fact.

”Yeah, read the rest. The court system needs to be involved before a physician will even do it. It's not safe for the baby,” I said pointing to the article that he was reading.

”In rare cases,” he pointed out. ”How far along do you think you are? We have to do it before the 14th week.”

”Drew, will you stop.”

”No, Morgan. If we can do this, we are. I am not spending the next nine months waiting to see if this is my kid. I can't. I will end up hating you over it. How far along do you think you are?”

”Not very, six weeks maybe,” I answered. I wasn't doing this before the baby. It was right there in plain English. There was a chance that it could harm the fetus.

Drew wasn't listening to me. He was on the phone calling his judge friend. The one that forced me to marry him, I was sure. I listened while he explained the situation, and of course the crooked judge agreed to sign whatever he needed to have signed.

He called Judith Bishop next, the gynecologist that used to come and give me my birth control shot every three months.

”She'll be here in about an hour,” Drew exclaimed. I wanted to run away. He was going over my head and doing whatever Drew wanted to do. It p.i.s.sed me off.

”Maybe, you could ask what I think before you go making plans for me,” I stated with an angry tone.

”It doesn't f.u.c.king matter what you think,” he said just as angry. Okay, this was the Drew that I hated. This was the Drew that disregarded my feelings. I was secretly wis.h.i.+ng that the baby turned out to be Dawson's. Dawson would never treat me this way.

I stormed out of his office, and up to my own room.

I wanted to call my mom, but I didn't because I knew that Drew had probably already turned his computer to my room. He was more than likely watching me through the cameras, and he could hear every word that I said.

I took my funeral clothes off and pulled on a comfortable pair of shorts and a t-s.h.i.+rt. I lay across the bed, staring up at the ceiling for probably twenty minutes or so in the same position.

My cellphone rang, and after it had quit I text my mother and told her that I would call her back. It rang again a few minutes later. It was Dawson. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted Dawson. I needed Dawson. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew, or I had a pretty good suspicion that Drew would hear every word I said. He hadn't called in weeks if I ignored him he might think that I didn't want to talk to him. I did.

f.u.c.k Drew...

”Hi,” I answered, sitting up and crossing my legs.

”Hey, beautiful,” he softly spoke. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath at the sound of his voice. I missed him. I wanted to be in his arms. And no, it wasn't because I was mad at Drew. I really missed him. I hadn't heard from him in almost a month.

”How are you?” I asked.

”Good, besides the fact that I miss you like crazy,”

he replied. ”How are you?”

”I'm okay,” I lied. I was never going to be okay.

Every time I thought I was making progress, life decided to throw another curve ball.

”You don't sound okay. Where are you?”

”Vegas.”

”Oh,” he said with a hurt tone.

”I just got here yesterday. Mr. Callaway pa.s.sed away, and I had to come here for the funeral. I'm leaving tomorrow.” I hoped Drew heard that.

”Please tell me that you are coming home to me,”

he begged.

”I am coming there,” I said.

”But not home to me, right?”

”I didn't say that.”

”Are you any closer to deciding what you want than you were before you left?”

I snorted. f.u.c.k no, I wasn't, and I had just gone and made things ten times more complicated.

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