“Look, I fucking loved you, I do love you. But Brea, damn it, she has been there for me when I thought I wanted to die. I have said it before and I will say it again, you fucking ripped my gawd damn heart out and Brea was there helping me pick up the pieces, the whole time telling me how much you fucking loved me. And when she came with me to my truck that day, after I realized I would never get you back, something snapped inside of me. I saw her differently, she wasn’t your friend Brea anymore. She was mine. I fucking saw what had been in front of me the entire time I let you trample all over me and I fucking wanted it, so I took it. I made love to her and I am sorry if this hurts you but I fucking made her mine, I don’t regret one damn second of it. And I sure as hell am not sorry. This might make you hate me for the rest of your life, I will hate that you do because I will always love you, but I want her. She is carrying my baby and I fucking want her. Not because my child is growing inside of her but because she was the one who was there when you shit on me. That you might be hurting, that is ALL I will apologize for. Call my dad Jemma, you have the number.”
Brandon has never spoken to me like he was speaking to me now. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him that I hated him because a small part of me truly did. But I couldn’t. What could I say? I had driven the two of them together with my selfishness. Not to mention I was happy. Despite the fact that Brandon’s words hurt, I could honestly say that for the first time in my life I was truly happy. I had Julian, he made me whole again, taking with him all of the pain that I had endured for far too long.
More than anything I wanted someone to do that for Brandon, take away all of the pain that I had caused and there was only one way that it could happen.
“Brandon.” I whispered hoping not to be interrupted.
“What!” He barked.
“If you want her, come and get her.”
I hung up the phone finally giving him away, the boy that I had secretly been holding onto, because he was no longer mine to hold.
After I hung up the phone with Brandon I made one of the hardest calls of my life. I called Brandon’s dad, a man who had cursed the ground I walked on since the day he first found me making out with his son on the family room pool table. OK, so maybe we were not ’just’ making out. I might have been half naked with my head bobbing between his legs. It was safe to say I was not the kind of girl he had imagined his Ivy League son carrying on the family name with.
I would love to be a fly on the wall once he found out his precious was going to father a child with the woman he had once declared “The town mess hall, everyone has had her and nobody wanted to go back for seconds”. The one time she had stepped inside his two and a half story Barbie dream house, he told Brandon right in front of me that he never wanted to see Brea back in his house again because “God only knows what rancid decease she brings with her!”. Yeah, he was going to shit a brick!
“Alexander Hicks speaking.”
The receptionist had put me on hold for fifteen minutes before finally transferring me through.
“Yes, Mr. Hicks, this is Jemma Hayes.”
“I know who you are Miss Hayes, what can I do for you?”
I could tell how annoyed he was with me for calling him but I had to suffer through for my father. Alexander Hicks was one of the best criminal prosecutors in the state, if he couldn’t help me nobody could.
“It’s about my father sir.” I paused.
“Go on, I don’t have all day Jemma.”
I let out a breath and filled him in on everything. By the end of the conversation his demeanor had changed and gone from slightly annoyed to in the zone, with him agreeing to meet with me during his lunch hour the next day.
By the time my shift ended at The Coffee Bean I was ready call it all in. I didn’t think anything could possibly get worse in the ridiculous soap opera life I was now living but it did. Half way through my shift Heather walked in. I had not seen her since the day she strolled into the Omega party with Julian and I had high hopes never to lay eyes on her again. Unfortunately for me, I seemed to be living in Crazyville with no way in sight for escape. All I could do was pray that she didn’t recognize me so I put on my brightest smile and pretended to be completely clueless.
“Welcome to Coffee Bean, how can I help you?”
Heather thoughtfully considered her choices, glancing back and forth between the menu on the wall behind me, to me directly.
“I will have a non fat decaf Ice blended Mocha, no cream.”
“That will be $4.23 cents please.”
She pulled out a five dollar bill and passed it my way.
“Hey...” She pulled the money away. DAMN IT, couldn’t she just pay and go?