Page 54 of Creed

Chapter 17

Sophie

Two months later

Every day, I hurt.

Every day, I try to move on.

Every day, the scab is ripped off to reveal the unhealing wound, making it bleed anew. Because every day, Creed messages me or leaves me a voicemail. He let me go that day at the penthouse, but he refuses to let go completely.

Sure, I could get a different phone, block him, or delete the messages without reading or listening to them.

But I don’t.

Maybe I’m a masochist, looking for my sadist to come and rescue me from my hell.

Maybe I’m a broken half, missing her other half because I know how incredible and right it had felt to be whole and fulfilled.

Whatever the reason, I’m a sucker for punishment.

Plus, I’m late.

Not late, as in, late for an appointment or late handing in one of my school assignments.

I’m latelate.

My menstrual cycle is notorious for being irregular, hence why I take birth control pills to try to regulate it, even when I wasn’t sexually active. Well, until the copious amounts of sex with Creed.

I try to rationalize my lateness. Even on the pill, taking it religiously, my cycle is still sometimes wonky. Plus, I’ve been under excessive stress for the past two months, living in mental and emotional pain. I’m not nauseous. My breasts aren’t tender.

I’mnotpregnant.

But the test remains in the box, unopened, because I can’t bring myself to take it.

Glancing at my phone, I bite my lip and re-open Creed’s message from today. It’s a picture of a butterfly, the sunlight shining tomake the wings look nearly translucent with bronze and copper spots. His message accompanies the picture.

This made me think of you

On the very edge of the picture is undeniably one of Creed’s tattoos. The fact that the big, muscular, inked man noticed the butterfly and patiently and slowly approached it to snap a close-up picture… Well, that does something to my heart and ovaries.

I love him so much andwantto bear his children.

But on the wings of that thought is my family… his family.

And the loving peace that fills me with the thought of bearing Creed’s children and being his for the rest of our lives shatters. Along with any pieces of my heart that had possibly started to mend themselves.

My phone rings, and I roll over on my bed to answer it. “Hey, Sylvie.”

My twelve-year-old cousin has discovered her love of phones and a good old phone call. She’ll be thirteen in two months, and I know her teen-snark attitude will soon appear, so I embrace this time with her.

“You still sound sad, Soph.”

I had gone home for Christmas break and hiding my heartache from my family had been impossible.Abuelawatched me closely but never pressured me to open up after I told her I was fine.Antonio almost broke me down because I suspected he, out of all my family, might have the most chance of understanding.We love who we loveis his life’s mantra. However, even with him, I clammed up.

“So sorry, Syl. Let me go put on my happy panties.”

“Ew.” She giggles, making me feel a bit lighter.

---