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“Guess the baby felt left out,” he lightly teased, trying to make me feel better once I was finished emptying my stomach of all the food I’d just eaten.

I swiped at the tears on my cheeks. Throwing up always made me cry. “I guess so.” I leaned against his side as he handed me some mouthwash. After rinsing my mouth out, I closed my eyes, burrowing against him. “I think I’m ready for bed after that,” I said quietly, a yawn falling from my lips.

Christian lifted me up from the floor. “Let’s go to bed, then, baby.” He brushed his lips over my forehead as he laid me down on the bed. “Let me go check on Caiden, make sure he’s not freaking out for his date, and then I’ll come lay with you.”

“M’kay,” I mumbled, sleep already tugging at me.

“So perfect,” he whispered before he lightly kissed me.

16

CUPCAKES

Ally

Dr. Gresham’s aging face appeared on my computer screen, a warm smile tilting his lips, deepening the lines around his aging eyes. “How are you feeling today, Ally?” he asked me, always one to cut straight to the chase.

I shrugged. “Nauseated,” I told him honestly. “But despite that, the medication seems to be working better. I don’t feel so down all the time now.” And that was the truth. I was having more good days.

His smile widened. “That’s good. Let’s talk about your pregnancy. How do you feel about it?” he asked me.

I frowned. I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk about it, but I’d never face it if I wasn’t forced to.

It was one of my toxic traits.

“Still conflicted,” I blurted. He nodded, no hint of judgment in his kind eyes. “I feel like I’m very slowly beginning to come around to the idea, and Christian helps by being so supportive and happy about the baby, but I’m so terrified that something is going to happen—something that’s going to cause me to snap again—and I’ll do something careless and stupid to kill this baby, too. I’m terrified of the past repeating itself.”

“Alright, Ally. Let’s talk about that day,” he began. I shook my head, not wanting to dive into those thoughts. I was so tired of crying lately, and I knew if we talked about that horrible day when I turned into a selfish monster, I would cry once again. “No, Ally. We need to talk about this,” he sternly told me. “It’s something you’re not coping with, and you’re struggling to move past it. So, let’s discuss it.”

I swallowed thickly but finally nodded my head. Dr. Gresham had remained my therapist and doctor for years now because he was so good at helping me. I knew everything we did together was for a reason.

It didn’t mean it sucked any less, though.

“Okay,” I told him quietly.

He steepled his fingers together in front of him. “Let’s start with your relationship with Randall,” he suggested. My nausea worsened. “How long did you two date?” he asked me. It was things we’d already gone over, but Dr. Gresham believed in continuously bringing things up until I began to heal.

“We were together for three years.”

“And when you told Randall that you were pregnant, what was his response? How did he react?”

My mind flitted back to that day. I had stayed over at his place for the night, but I was feeling extremely sick the next morning, and I couldn’t keep anything down. So, he insisted that I should go to the doctor, and he came with me because I wasn’t in any condition to drive.

He was in the room with me when the doctor told me that I was pregnant.

Randall had frozen up, and he’d been silent all the way home as I silently cried in the passenger seat. He hadn’t said a word when he dropped me off at my place—hadn’t even kissed me goodbye.

Later that night, he texted me, telling me he was sorry about his shitty reaction to the news, that he was excited. Now that I thought about it, for the little while we remained dating, Randall was distant with me.

“He was never excited,” I finally realized. I looked back at my laptop screen, tears blurring my vision. “He put up a front for me, but that had to have been around the time he started sleeping with Heather, because he would hardly touch me anymore.”

Dr. Gresham gave me a sad smile. “What happened that day that you found him with your best friend?” he asked.

I drew in a shaky breath. “Heather shrieked when she saw me, but he just—he didn’t care,” I quietly admitted. “He never stopped—just shouted for me to get the fuck out of his room, that we were done.” A tear slid down my cheek. When would their betrayal stop hurting? “And he told everyone that I was lying, that it was his twin—not him. Any friends I’d had quickly abandoned me, and then, after I was admitted, everyone began calling me an attention-seeking whore for swallowing those pills, and he made sure to tell everyone that I killed our baby.”

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