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Rage blows out a breath but walks away, glancing back at me before stepping through the door and disappearing.
My heart thuds, but I force a smile. I move to an empty table, slipping my bowl onto it and trying not to focus on how alone I am. Socket stays close, but he doesn’t sit with me.
I’ve always been an outsider. At school, I was avoided by anyone not in the life, but I didn’t care because I had Scarlett and Tommy. I had friends. Here, I’m an outcast.
Pia leaves her table, walking over to her dad. She gives him a hug, and he kisses her head like she’s everything to him. I ignore the pang of jealousy that makes me feel. My father would never show such a public display of affection. He probably wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence outside the privacy of our home.
Hishome.
It’s not mine any longer. The life I had is gone, and I don’t fit here either. That realisation makes me feel adrift.
“Hey, kid. You doing okay?” Socket asks Pia.
I sit down and dig my spoon into the yoghurt, so I don’t have to look at them, but I can’t block out their words.
“You know, same old. Jake wants us to move into a bigger house and is giving me a headache about it.”
“He mentioned you’re trying for a baby.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I like our place though. I don’t want to move.”
“Ain’t exactly family-friendly, is it?”
“It has two bedrooms,” she argues.
I try to block out their conversation, knowing I’ll never truly fit in here. No one has been openly hostile apart from Heidi, whose eyes I feel glaring at me from across the room, but that doesn’t mean they want to be friends either.
Maybe coming here was a mistake. I don’t need to be a part of this club to raise my baby. Rage and I can still co-parent, right?
My stomach roils, and I put my spoon down, breathing through the wave of nausea. The last thing I need right now is to vomit, but my body has other ideas.
Covering my mouth as my stomach contracts and bile rushes up my throat, I push up from the table and rush across the room. There’s a small bathroom across the hall, and I collide with the door, forcing my way inside before I drop to my knees in front of the toilet.
I retch, my body trying to expel the two mouthfuls of yoghurt I consumed, but nothing comes up. Over and over, the contractions continue as I dry heave. I’m weakened, shaking too, but I don’t move until it passes fully.
Even then, it takes me a moment to move, and I only get so far as reaching up to grab some toilet tissue so I can wipe my mouth.
Little baby, I love you, but seriously, give me a break.
Struggling to catch my breath, I use the wall to steady myself as I get to my feet. There is a rock in my gut as I toss the tissue into the bowl and flush the toilet.
I move to the small sink, turning on the faucet and thoroughly washing my hands. The club and my definition of cleanliness are poles apart.
When I’m done, I dry my hands on the paper towels left on the counter and clean up after myself.
Socket is waiting outside the door, but he says nothing as I pass him and head back into the common room. Really, I want to go back to bed, but I don’t want to worry Rage.
I slide back into my seat, swallowing down the taste of acid coating my throat, and push my bowl away from me. The smell of the yoghurt is turning my stomach.
A figure approaches and I glance up, instantly on alert. I relax a little as I realise it’s Hope and not Heidi coming over to give me her latest bout of vitriol.
“Morning sickness?” She takes the seat opposite me without invitation.
“Yeah.”
“Mine hasn’t been too bad, which is good because Kayden would be an overbearing nightmare if it was.”
“How long does it last?” I have no idea what to expect from this pregnancy, and no one has given me any means to find out for myself.
