Chapter 22
Sierra.
It’s been a couple of days since my confrontation with Noah. Am I okay? Definitely not. I’m still fucking pissed off and, if I’m being honest, hurt.
I never expected him to welcome this pregnancy with open arms, but to outright suggest I get an abortion? That broke something in me. It shattered every illusion I’d ever held of him.
Noah was always the good guy in my head. Even when he treated me like shit, I still put him on a pedestal. I told myself he just didn’t like me and that didn’t make him a bad person.
But for him to basically command me to get rid of the baby? To ask me to kill an innocent life? To say those words without hesitation? In that moment, he became something else entirely.
I hate to compare, especially knowing how much he resents me, but I can’t help but wonder how differently he would’ve reacted if it were Chloe. If she were alive and expecting their third child. 1
I know she’s gone. But that doesn’t stop this ugly twist of jealousy and resentment in my chest. It’s smothering and makes me feel like an evil person for being jealous of a dead person.
My phone pings with a notification from the Uber I ordered. It’s here.
Sighing, I give Blackie one last head rub before grabbing my bag and heading out.
“Hi,” I greet the driver as I slide into the back seat.
“Hello, miss. How’s your day going?” he asks politely.
I don’t know about other people, but I always feel rude ignoring drivers. I might not always chat, but I make a point to greet them
“Not that great,” I admit while fastening my seatbelt.
I went to work the day after I told Noah the news. I asked for a few days off and picked up my car. It’s currently sitting in my garage right now, but I just didn’t feel like driving today.
It’s one of those days where you don’t feel like doing anything and all you want is your mom’s warm hug and her special tea.
“Don’t worry too much. Everything will work out in the end,” he offers kindly as the car pulls away.
I know he’s trying to be nice, but as much as I want to believe his words, I can’t.
I decided to keep the baby, yes, but I’m too down in the pits to see any silver lining right now.
“Thanks,” I murmur, turning to look out the window.
The city passes by in a blur. I’m too lost in my thoughts and heartache for anything to register.
Noah’s face haunts me. His disgust, the venom in his words. The way he spoke about my baby still hurts me. It’s like he saw them as something vile and repulsive. Like their very existence offended him.
I’ve thought of nothing these past few days except that day. His reaction. His harsh words and the bitterness in his voice.
I never understood how a parent can hate their own child, and maybe that’s because I was surrounded with so much love; the idea seemed foreign to me.
And after seeing Noah’s reaction, I still don’t understand it. I didn’t expect him to love my baby, but I also didn’t expect him to outright hate their existence.
My chest aches as I rub at the spot over my heart, trying to soothe the pain encased there.
I knew Noah hated me, but to hear him say it, to hear the conviction in his tone, it undid me. 1
I’ve never been able to understand it. I’ve never done anything to hurt him, so why does he hate me so much?
A snort leaves my lips. It’s funny how he crashed a lot of my expectations that day. He fell from grace in my eyes and now I finally see him for what he is. A hateful, bitter asshole.
“We’re here, miss,” the driver says, snapping me out of it.
I blink back into reality. We’ve arrived at my mom’s house.
I dig into my bag and hand him some cash. “Thank you p>
I get out of the car, distractedly. I probably gave him a lot more than the fare and tip combined, but I don’t care. All I want is my mom.
He calls after me, “Have a nice day… I hope it gets better p>
I give him a small smile over my shoulder before walking to the door. Fishing out the keys, I unlock it.
“Mom?” I call out, slipping off my shoes and closing the door behind me.
The scent of warm vanilla and something sweet wraps around me. This house always feels like a safety net, ready to catch me when I’m falling.
“Si?” she calls back, poking her head out from the kitchen.
I don’t hesitate. I rush into the kitchen and throw myself into her arms. She catches me and I sink into her embrace.
“Mommy p>
The second I’m in her embrace, I lose it. A dam bursts and tears pour down my face. I can’t stop them nor can I fight or push back the pain anymore.
Anguished cries rip from my throat as I cling to my mother like she’s the lifeline I need to stay afloat. 1