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He says nothing. Keeping his eyes on the road, he continues to speed home as his wrists strangle the steering wheel. He squeezes the life out of it. Is that supposed to be my neck? Does he wish that he could be choking the hell out of me?
I don’t think I’d blame him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not asking about how you’re feeling about all of this. I guess I didn’t even realize that—”
“That what! That I’d have feelings?” He pounds on his chest. “No one thinks this spineless mute has feelings, right? People think I’m fucked up in the head or retarded or something. No one even assumes that I might have feelings. I mean, why would they?” He scoffs, making a sharp turn and I have to grab hold of the dashboard in front of me.
“No! I know you have feelings. I just… I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head, I guess I didn’t think about anything else.” I wipe a falling tear. “It was bitchy of me. I’m sorry, Jax.”
His face is red—nearly purple—in anger. “Then you go and pick out the parents who will be raisingmy kid. Without even confronting me about it! And schedule a time to meet with them! Without me! What, were you planning to go there all by yourself, without even inviting me?”
“No! I was going to talk to you about it.” I cry.
“When? When were you going to tell me?” He barks at me.
I sputter and he laughs in my face.
“Exactly. That’s exactly what I thought.” He screeches to a stop in front of my house. Leaning over me, he pops open the door. “Text me the info for that meeting. Now get the fuck out of the truck.”
Panic rushes through me. I don’t want to leave him like this. “Please, Jackson. Can we just talk about this?”
“Get out of the car, Cara.”
“Jax—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!” He booms, scaring the ever-living hell out of me. I jump out of the car and run into my house, slamming the door shut behind me.
Running into my room, I throw my purse against the wall and fall onto my bed. I bawl, my throat feeling raw from the horrible screams that come out of my mouth.
I never wanted any of this.
I never wanted this baby. I never wanted to feel anything for Jackson. I never wanted to put this baby up for adoption. I never wanted to keep anything from Jackson.
But it all happened. Shit is going to keep happening. Again, and again, and again.
I guess I spoke too soon when I said Jackson and I were doing well.
My life is a fucking book of unfortunate events. It seems that without even speaking out loud,
I jinxed it.
18
Cara
Six Months Pregnant
This is so awkward.
It’s been a week since the doctor appointment meltdown with Jackson. A week since he’s spoken to me. I texted him that night and told him the details for the adoption meeting. He never responded, and I sent a couple messages to him since then to confirm he received them.
Still not response.
I was about to ask Rose for a ride today when Jackson showed up in Easton’s truck.
Nervously, I hopped in as we drove a few towns over to the nice suburb of Autumn Ridge. I didn’t try to talk to Jackson, and he never tried speaking with me.
But now we’re parked in the Simmons’ driveway, and I’m not sure how we’re supposed to go in there without saying anything to each other first.
