Page 18 of Broken (Broken 1)


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“Your next lecture is in three hours,” I laugh, knowing my friend’s schedules by heart. That’s just how organised I am.

“Exactly. It’s just not long enough,” he races away and waves over his shoulder.

“That lucky, lucky girl,” Sasha sighs wistfully and pushes her way past a group of people loitering by the door. “Come on, we’re nearly late.”

The test went well and even though my mind was on other things I have no doubts that I’ve passed. I’ve studied my arse off for this test. If I fail it’s not a huge deal but it counts towards a percentage of my overall grade that I’d like to keep.

My culinary course is going great, mostly because there are only twelve of us in the class. It’s my English Literacy class that has me constantly studying. I’m not sure why I took this as an extra, it seemed like a good idea at the time and I do love to write.

Now, to solve my current problem. I tell Sasha I’m going home for lunch when in reality I’m going to call my doctor to book an appointment and then I’m going home.

As expected Caleb is inside, he’s sat in the living room drinking tea and eating biscuits whilst thumbing through his phone.

“Hey,” I announce and his head tips back so he can see me.

“Hey,” he responds, his eyes dead and his easy smile non-existent. This makes my heart hurt.

“The test went well,” I sit on the arm of the chair and run my fingers through his hair.

He manages to smile but it’s too sad to be put in the happy smile category. “That’s great news babe. Proud of you.”

“I also booked an appointment at the doctor’s for tomorrow,” I say this cautiously, not wanting to sadden him further. He needs to see this from my point.

His eyes darken dangerously, I’ve never seen him look so… angry. “Just do what you have to do but don’t expect me there if you do it.”

What? “Are you serious?”

His eyes go back to his phone, “Yep.”

“I’m doing this alone?”

“Uh-huh,” he sips his drink, his face firm and unrelenting.

My heart breaks, “You’re not going to support me? Hold my hand?”

“No.”

“Well… okay then,” I struggle to say because I’m fighting back tears that seemed to be lodged in my throat. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Whatever,” he says. Seemingly unaffected by my obvious distress. He’s always supported me, always. With everything and he hates to see me cry. Whenever I cry he tells me it breaks his heart.

Once we argued so badly he ended up throwing a plate against the wall, it scared me. I thought he was leaving me. I cried. I remember how much pain I felt when he said he couldn’t deal with this anymore and threw his plate of food across the kitchen.

It wasn’t long after we got engaged that this happened. My mum isn’t being supportive in the slightest. She thinks I’m a young and naïve girl with her head in the clouds. She’ll see just how happy and stable we are when I finish university and get married and all is well.

He was pissed off because his parents refused to give him his trust fund even though he’s doing amazing in university. I told him it’d all be okay and he just looked at me and shouted, “You don’t get it, you’ll never get it.”

He was angry at them, not at me and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice so it scared the hell out of me. Angry Caleb is not a good Caleb.

I remember how much pain I felt when he said he couldn’t deal with this anymore and threw his plate of food across the kitchen. What couldn’t he deal with anymore? His parents? Me? Us? The house? The lack of money? He never did tell me, he just told me to drop it which was totally unlike him.

I started crying and instantly he sobered. He stopped being angry and just held me, begging me not to cry. Telling me it breaks his heart when I cry.

And now, he sees my anguish but does nothing. Screw him.

I stomp up the stairs, my eyes burning even though my tears are spilling over. I try not to think about it too much, he’ll forgive me I know he will. At least… I hope he will. Now is not the right time for a baby.

I’m shocked when I hear him follow me up the stairs, clearly he has something on his mind that wants out. Maybe we can resolve this.

I sit on the bed and wait for him to reach me. When he does he stands in the doorframe just staring at me, his eyes blank. I can’t read him at all.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks suddenly, his brows scrunching.

“Because it’s the wrong time. I’d like it if you came with me,” I say, my sorrow clear.

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