7

After I did the car back I went home as fast as I could and called Mr. Lynn letting you know that I felt sick. He was fine with that; he could obviously tell that I wasn't comfortable with Connor around.

"Should I be expecting you to come in tomorrow?" he asked.

I told them I should be fine going in and then I hung up the phone. I laid down on my bed and hugging my pillow tight screaming into it with everything I had.

'Why me?'

Why would my life, the life I had been so desperate to leave behind? Why would my past follow me here? I've tried so hard to make a new life far away from that nightmare and yet it followed me here. I wanted to scream and cry and throw a fit like a two-year-old but I knew that a tantrum would not change anything. I had to face the facts sooner or later. Connor was here and I had to woman up. I went to the bathroom and decided to take a shower. I turn the water on it's hot as I can get it then strip down but naked, throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper, and stepped onto the shower. It felt so good to let the water roll over my shoulders and feel the tenseness of the day melt away. I poured some of my brand new vanilla cookie dough scented shampoo onto the palm of my hand and began to lather it into my hair. I close my eyes and let my brain work through the problems of the day. For some reason, all I could see was Connor's face. His high, angular, cheekbones with a mole underneath his left eye. I could almost feel the texture of his curly hair underneath my fingers. I could almost feel his full lips underneath my own.

And then, reality came crashing back down on me. I know that could never happen. I mean, for God's sake I was carrying his brother's child. And who in their right mind would want an eight-teen-year-old pregnant woman in the first place. Let alone their brothers hand me downs. I rinsed the delicious smelling shampoo out of my hair and turned off the water. I wrapped one of my royal purple towels around my body watching how the fabric curved over my slightly protruding stomach. I felt a wave of grief wash over me. I look fat. I can almost see all the disgusting rolls of blubber jiggling over my body. I got out of the shower and started drying off hating the way my skin moved while every time I moved my arms while toweling my hair.

Without looking in the mirror I brushed my teeth and gathered my brush, hair ties, and leave-in hair conditioner into my arms, and left the bathroom.

I went and sat on my bed intent on blocking out the image in the mirror. I open the pastel blue jar of water lily scented conditioner and scooped out a generous amount of the silky cream. I gathered my hair over my shoulder and worked the refreshing scent into each strand. I then transferred my waist-length hair to the other side and scooped out some more and systematically worked it through just the same. When I finished I closed the jar and ran the brush through my hair.

I parted my hair down the middle and tied one half over my shoulder. I let my fingers take over the process of weaving my hair into a simple French braid while my mind drifted into the past. The ghost sensation of his lips running over my skin as his hands caressed my bare breasts. I let out a soft moan.

'Your a whore just like your mother was. The fruit will always be rotten if grown on the wrong tree!'

This voice always seems to pop up as soon after. It cuts through my heart like a hot knife through butter. I open my eyes and tie off the end of my now braided pig tale and begin on the other.

My eyes land on my slightly protruding belly. I felt a flood of unanswered questions and mixed emotions overwhelm my brain. Hot tears threatened to burst free but, now was not the right time to cry. I concentrated on braiding the last of my hair and then put all my things back away in the bathroom.

Now that I was cleaned up I went to the kitchen to fix myself some tea. I took out the tea kettle and placed it on the stove then moved to the couch in the next room.