Page 89 of Pucking With My Head

“You know what? I don’t need to entertain this conversation,” I said calmly, turning to the stairs toward my room.

“That’s it. Just fucking run away like a child,” one of my brothers shouted after me.

My only answer was to slam the door behind me.

As soon as I was in my room, I let the tears fall. I wasn’t sure if they were tears of anger or sadness. Probably a combination of the two.

I had expected anger, but witnessing my fathers agreeing with the idea of terminating a child I was already in love with was a blow I hadn’t been expecting. My breathing was jagged as I raked in breath after breath, trying to get my tears under control.

Grabbing my phone from where it was charging on the bedside table, I opened my chat with Jensen.

Beth:

Is that offer to join you in your hotel room still open?

Jensen:

Of course. Want me to come get you? Your family already pissing you off?

Beth:

They found my prenatal vitamins.

Jensen:

Shit, how did they take it?

Beth:

They insulted me for a while, then acted like I needed to go to an abortion clinic.

Jensen:

Excuse me?!?!

My phone started ringing, but I ignored it, opting instead to gather my clothes and shove them into my bag. Why had I even bothered to unpack? I should have known my family would pull some bullshit like this.

Taking several deep breaths, I did my best to cool the simmering rage threatening to overtake me. That much anger couldn’t be good for the baby.

Within ten minutes, my bag was packed, but I wasn’t ready to face my family again just yet. So I sat on my bed and quietly simmered, all the anger I felt toward them only intensifying.

They probably thought I was cooling off, but it was quite the opposite.

I had no idea how long I sat there, but eventually I knew I had to move. I had to leave. Grabbing my bag, I stormed down the stairs, making a beeline for the exit.

“Bethany, what are you doing?” my dad asked, shocked at the sight of me carrying my duffel.

“I’m leaving,” I said simply.

“You can’t just leave—this is your home.”

I sighed. “Look, I’m not gonna hang around just for you and my brothers to scold me. None of you are perfect, but you expect me to be?”

“It’s not like that, Bethany,” my pa insisted.

“Isn’t it?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

As I was speaking, Hayden entered the room. “Hey, I know I may have gotten a bit angry, but I only want what’s best for you. We both know you can’t support a child.” His words were soft, like he was trying to be understanding, but he had the self-awareness of a fucking wombat.

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