“Yes baby, I’m here.” I move and take a seat next to her on the bed.

“Where am I?” Huntley looks around confused.

“You’re in the hospital,” I reply gently.

Her eyebrows shoot up and a look of horror crosses her features.

“I’m going to get the nurse ok?” I kiss her forehead and walk out to get a nurse. Luckily the nurse who was in here earlier sees me and I tell her Huntley is awake.

I follow in behind her as she starts checking the machines again.

“Why am I here?” Huntley asks the nurse.

“Miss Morgan, you were attacked.”

The machine attached to Huntley’s finger starts screaming as her heartbeat spikes. I rush over to the bed, stroking her hair and rubbing my thumb on the back of her knuckles. “It’s ok, you’re safe now. You need to stay calm.”

Her eyes flit frantically from me to the nurse but her heartbeat doesn’t slow.

“Miss Morgan, you need to calm down. Panicking is not good for the baby.”

Huntley stiffens and her face goes white, like every ounce of blood is being drained from her. Her eyes widen in shock.

“Baby?” she chokes out. “What baby?”

“You’re twelve weeks pregnant,” I tell her softly. When she snatches her hand from my grasp, I wince at the loss of contact, and watch her carefully. Something doesn’t feel right about her reaction. A knot forms in my stomach and sinks into my gut like an anchor.

“No,” she cries, shaking her head wildly from side to side. “I took a test, and it came back negative.”

“It’s possible that you got a false negative,” the nurse explains sympathetically. “It’s rare but it happens. Either you took the test too early or the test wasn’t sensitive enough to the HCG hormones in your urine.”

“Oh God,” Huntley cries. My heart breaks at the sound of her obvious distress. Doesn’t she want this? I feel the hurt and confusion fuse and move around restlessly inside me.

“It’s ok,” I assure her. “It’s a surprise but a good one right?” I search her eyes for a glimmer of acceptance but only find her empty blue iris’ staring back at me, the storm I’ve become familiar with gone. I’ve never seen this look on her face before. It’s unnerving.

“No, it’s not ok.” Her words slice me open and leave me guttered. The nurse exits the room and we’re alone again. The room suddenly feels too small, like the walls close in on me with every delivery of Huntley’s painful words.

“How can you say that?” I question slightly angered.

“B-b-because this can’t happen.” She looks away from me and my hands ball into fists at my sides. I feel my jaw tick as I work to reign in the sudden anguish that blooms in my chest. Her words swirl around in my head and force the air to leave my lungs in short, quick pants.

“You don’t want our baby?”

Her head hangs but she doesn’t respond. I take a step closer and grab her chin between my fingers. “Answer me,” I demand harshly. I’m way past the point of being ‘gentle’. She’s talking about not wanting the life growing inside her, the life that we made together.

“Don’t touch me,” she growls behind gritted teeth. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t remember how your ex-girlfriend had her tongue down your throat not too long ago.”

“I can explain –“

Her hand shoots up, halting me. “Don’t Grayson. I can’t deal with your excuses right now.”

“It’s not what it looked like, I promise.” I plead with my eyes but it doesn’t work when Huntley refuses to look at me. The acid in my stomach rolls and I feel sick with guilt all over again.

“I think you need to leave.” I barely hear her and hope to God that what I think I heard is wrong.

When I stand rooted to the floor next to the hospital bed, Huntleys’ head comes up and she fixes me with a glare filled with hurt, and anger and betrayal.

“Please,” she whispers. “I need you to leave. I need some time.”

I struggle to keep my reaction in check as realization of what she’s saying dawns on me. She doesn’t want me or our baby. It’s like a sucker punch straight to my stomach, stealing the breath from my body and making my chest ache.

“You don’t get to decide this on your own,” my chest constricts and I do nothing when I feel hot liquid slide down my hot cheeks. I don’t care if I look like a wuss for crying. What she’s doing right now fucking hurts and she’s treating me like I have no say. “I won’t let you give up the part of me that’s living and growing inside you,” I sniffle, clinging desperately to what’s left of my composure. “I will fight for you and our baby with everything I am, even if it kills me. You don’t get to walk away like we mean nothing.”

Huntley’s hand cups her mouth and her shoulders shake. We stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime, both crying and I can’t escape the grave recognition that I’m the only one fighting for us. I take a step closer and lean my forehead against hers for what I hope isn’t the last time. Her breath shudders as I look her in the eye. “I love you,” I breathe. “I will always love you.”

Turning my back, I ignore every impulse to disregard her wish for me to leave and walk out the door. Her broken sobs echo and die as the door closes, the metaphor unmistakably obvious. That door is the only thing separating me from the love of my life, yet it now seems impenetrable.

“Holy shit Gray, are you ok?”

I don’t look up but as soon I feel Brody at my side, the dam breaks. I haven’t cried this hard since my sister died. The tears flow and I want nothing more than to rip my own heart out just so that it won’t hurt so much. My body caves and I have to lean on Brody to keep myself from crumbling onto the floor. Like my heart has crumbles in my chest.

“Oh my God, is he ok?” I hear Demi ask. Brody doesn’t respond and neither do I. I don’t know what to say. I’m not ok, and I have no idea if I’ll ever be the same after this.

Brody takes me to his truck and puts me in the passenger seat before turning to talk to Demi. I block them out and wait for Brody to get in. The drive is silent, and once we’ve stopped at the liquor store, Brody takes me straight home.

We sit in the living room, still littered with trash from the party, and Brody brings out some old friends. Tequila. Whiskey. And Vodka. He slams the bottles on the table, unscrewing the lids and throwing them away. Brody knows what I need. And like the best friend he is, he helps drown out my emotions, my thoughts, and my feelings until I feel nothing. Blissful nothingness.

** ** ** ** **

The thing about drinking to obliterate everything is that it’s temporary, and when the numbing liquid leaves your system, you’re still left with everything you tried so hard not to feel and a killer headache to boot. My head feels heavy and my temples throb with a dull ache. There’s a pounding noise and I think it’s all in my head, but then I hear the door open and then click shut. I make no move to get up from…

Where the fuck am I?

I look around, only able to muster enough strength to open one eye, and take in my surroundings. I’m on the floor, that much is obvious, and there’s a bed. If breathing didn’t fucking hurt I’d let out a sigh of relief at the sight of my room. But it hurts. So fucking much. The gaping hole is still where my heart should be, pulsing angrily as if I need reminding of its presence.