Page 11 of Because of You


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The party, although underage drinking had been involved, was clearly not the issue. Although many of the partygoers had scattered, it seemed the police officers could care less that there was enough alcohol on the premises to open a small liquor store.

No, they were more worried about Michael’s broken nose and bruised ego. Either way, they’d screw Sutton over and I knew there was nothing anybody could do about it.

Sutton’s father didn’t have the kind of money or connections that these people did. He was blue collar all the way through. I looked at Sutton and saw he was watching me. He mouthed something but I couldn’t make it out. I took a step forward, wanting to go to him. He gave me a small smile as the cruiser pulled away.

And in that moment my heart broke, just split in two. Sutton leaving was like a little part of myself went with him.

But I’d wait for him. I’d always wait for him.

I felt like I was in a cage, and I suppose I was. I sat on the hard-plastic chair, a small counter in front of me, a plastic barrier between me and Sutton. He hadn’t moved since he’d sat down a moment ago, just staring at me, his face showing this hard, stoic expression. I could tell he wasn’t pleased I was here, but I had to see him, even if it was in this situation.

I reached to my right and picked up the black plastic phone. The thick silver metal cord that came out the bottom of it was attached to the wall. It reminded me of an old-school payphone. As I held it to my ear, I stared at Sutton, waiting for him to do the same. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders slouching slightly as he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

“Hi,” I said, not knowing what else to say. He’d been locked up for assault, Michael’s father pulling strings to get him put in here. Although it wasn’t technically jail, it was a sort of juvenile holding facility despite the fact that he was an adult. I suppose that was a small miracle. Michael’s father probably could’ve made it a lot worse.

I guess this was more of a holding facility for the degenerates and bad boys. It still broke my heart seeing him on the other side of that plastic barrier. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, to hold him, tell him that I wasn’t going anywhere. But the look on his face told me he’d shut off, built this wall around himself.

“Talk to me, Sutton.” I hated that he was so closed off. He had been like this when we first started living together, when my mother married his father. But it hadn’t taken him any time at all to open up to me. Then we became friends, inseparable, and my love for him had grown.

“I hate that you’re here,” he finally admitted. “I don’t want you coming back, Catherine.” His jaw clenched after he spoke, as if he hadn’t wanted to say the words.

I refused to cry at his harsh tone. We hadn’t been able to be together, hadn’t been able to talk about what we’d shared that night at the party. He’d been taken away so fast that my world had turned upside down.

“Sutton, you’re just upset. I can’t believe you really don’t want me here.” I curled my hand round the phone even tighter when he didn’t respond, just kept that stoic expression. “You don’t want to see me for the whole year?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t want you seeing me like this. So no, Catherine. I don’t want you coming back.” His voice cracked on the end as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check. “I love you, but please, baby. Please stay away.” And then he put the phone back on the cradle and I was left there feeling like my heart had just been ripped out of my chest for a second time.

Chapter Six

Catherine

Six weeks later

I didn’t know what had happened, only that he’d been sent away, gone from my life for the next year. My heart was racing, the tears threatening to spill. But I forced myself to be strong. Although breaking down seemed like the easiest thing to do right now, something I desperately wanted to give in to.

I straightened and breathed out slowly, willing myself to stay strong, especially right now. But my undoing was the little test in my hand, that little stick with two plus signs in pink, that had me on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Pregnant.

I’d only had sex once, given myself to one person.

But it seemed that was enough.

I’d gotten pregnant from that one night with Sutton.

My hands were shaking and I felt like that tether that was keeping me grounded was about to break in two.

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