Blame it on the Alcohol
Part 4
-6 Months Later-
The sun flitters through the blinds, shinning down on my face. The rays turn the back my eye lids bright red. It’s morning. I open my eyes, blinking to get used to the light. It’s cold outside and I’m warm in my big bed, but I have to get up. I push the comforter off, my swollen belly coming out into the air. The baby is moving around, probably waking up since I’ve begun to move.
I found out 2 weeks after Harry left that I was pregnant, but I didn’t tell him. I didn’t tell anyone, really, except Sammy. Sammy tried to convince me to tell Harry, so to really ruin his life, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s a good thing that I have a job in journalism, so I can do my work at home. I haven’t left my house since I started showing at 3 months, in fear that the media would find out. I didn’t want Harry to find out via some trashy gossip magazine.
I sit up, my big belly getting in the way, like it always does, and kick my swollen feet over the edge of the bed, the cold hardwood instantly numbing my once warm feet. With a grunt, I get out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom. I slip out of the oversized sweater I slept in and stepped into the shower. Right when my hand was touching the facet, I heard Asleep by The Smiths coming from my room. My heart stopped beating. Harry was calling me. All I could think was that he had found out about the baby. I slide open the shower doors, my hands shaking like crazy. The song ended, but I just knew he wasn’t going to only call once, not over something like this. I wrap a large, white towel around my naked body and shakily walk into my room. “Sing me to sleep. Sing me to sleep. Sing me to sleep. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.” He was calling again, just like I had predicted. I grab my phone; a disgusting picture of Harry’s bloody smiling face glowing on the screen. I take a steadying breath and press the answer button with a shaking finger.
“Hello?” I whispered.
“Shelly, I have good news,” Harry’s cheery sounded from the other line.
Relief flooded over me. He didn’t know.
“Really? It’s been 6 months and you’re going to call me about good news? Let me guess, its One Direction related, right?” I said coldly, my voice confident once again.
“No, love, even better! The baby isn’t mine! She was lying! I took a paternity test! Isn’t that great?”
My jaw literally dropped. 6 months this prick didn’t speak to me and now that he’s not having a baby with a fan, he wanted to get back with me.
“I’m not going to get back with you, asshole. Why’d you even call me?”
“But, Shelly…” “No, Harry, I don’t want to listen to you. Just go back to your fucking life of fame and forget about me.” I hung up, tears of anger sliding down my cheeks.
The sun flitters through the blinds, shinning down on my face. The rays turn the back my eye lids bright red. It’s morning. I open my eyes, blinking to get used to the light. It’s cold outside and I’m warm in my big bed, but I have to get up. I push the comforter off, my swollen belly coming out into the air. The baby is moving around, probably waking up since I’ve begun to move.
I found out 2 weeks after Harry left that I was pregnant, but I didn’t tell him. I didn’t tell anyone, really, except Sammy. Sammy tried to convince me to tell Harry, so to really ruin his life, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s a good thing that I have a job in journalism, so I can do my work at home. I haven’t left my house since I started showing at 3 months, in fear that the media would find out. I didn’t want Harry to find out via some trashy gossip magazine.
I sit up, my big belly getting in the way, like it always does, and kick my swollen feet over the edge of the bed, the cold hardwood instantly numbing my once warm feet. With a grunt, I get out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom. I slip out of the oversized sweater I slept in and stepped into the shower. Right when my hand was touching the facet, I heard Asleep by The Smiths coming from my room. My heart stopped beating. Harry was calling me. All I could think was that he had found out about the baby. I slide open the shower doors, my hands shaking like crazy. The song ended, but I just knew he wasn’t going to only call once, not over something like this. I wrap a large, white towel around my naked body and shakily walk into my room. “Sing me to sleep. Sing me to sleep. Sing me to sleep. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.” He was calling again, just like I had predicted. I grab my phone; a disgusting picture of Harry’s bloody smiling face glowing on the screen. I take a steadying breath and press the answer button with a shaking finger.
“Hello?” I whispered.
“Shelly, I have good news,” Harry’s cheery sounded from the other line.
Relief flooded over me. He didn’t know.
“Really? It’s been 6 months and you’re going to call me about good news? Let me guess, its One Direction related, right?” I said coldly, my voice confident once again.
“No, love, even better! The baby isn’t mine! She was lying! I took a paternity test! Isn’t that great?”
My jaw literally dropped. 6 months this prick didn’t speak to me and now that he’s not having a baby with a fan, he wanted to get back with me.
“I’m not going to get back with you, asshole. Why’d you even call me?”
“But, Shelly…” “No, Harry, I don’t want to listen to you. Just go back to your fucking life of fame and forget about me.” I hung up, tears of anger sliding down my cheeks.
@WhatMakesNiallBeautiful
As soon as I have enough time to actually sit down and write. Maybe later this week :)
2/19/13