much this has taken a toll on her.
Her clothes are hanging off her beautiful body, having lost weight that she didn’t have to lose in the first place. She hasn’t been eating or taking care of herself properly, and that's my fault. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun, one that probably started at the top of her head, but now sags in defeat. Her bloodshot eyes are rimmed with dark circles from crying and a lack of sleep. All of this, because of me.
I watch her as she finishes stirring sugar into my coffee, placing the spoon into the sink before making her way over to where I’m sitting. She puts the coffee cup in front of me, doubling back to grab hers, and just as she’s about to jump onto her safe spot on the counter, I stop her. “Angel, come here and sit with me, please.”
Amelia has another thing coming if she thinks she’s sitting all the way over there away from me. Those walls may be up right now, but I will be knocking those fuckers straight back down, so I may as well start now.
Amelia hesitates before picking up her cup and pulling out the seat in front of me.
Good. Progress.
I watch as she holds her cup in both hands, running the tip of one finger around the ceramic rim, staring down at it as though it holds all the answers to her problems.
I sit, waiting for her to look at me. I can sit here all day. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but I won’t be doing it until I’ve got her eyes on me. Besides, it’s the second Saturday, which means the girls are with their father, and she’s got nothing but time.
I’ve only got one chance at this, and I’m willing to get down on my knees if that’s what it takes. It might not be pretty, but I will do just about anything for her to understand just how much she means to me. How much I love her.
After what feels like hours of absolutely nothing from my stubborn woman, I slowly slide my hand across the table until it sits on top of hers. I hold on tightly when she tries to pull away, making her finally look up at me through narrowed eyes.
I swore to her I would never hurt her, and it crushes my soul to know I’m the one that has caused her so much pain.
I am an asshole. She deserves so much better than that.
“You wanted to talk Bull, so talk,” she says, emotionlessly tugging her hand until I let it go.
Fuck. Not good.
“I need you to know that I have nothing to hide from you,” I start, clearing my throat, “I had no idea, Angel. Absolutely no fucking idea that she was pregnant. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I thought you needed more time. I thought I should wait until I had all the information, and so I could do it in a way that saved you from hurting too bad.”
Amelia just stares at me, silently waiting for me to continue.
“Jessa’s not my girlfriend, Angel. She is not my fiancé. She’s absolutely nothing to me, just the woman I knocked up by mistake. Please tell me that you understand?”
“How would I know what is or what isn’t happening right now, Bull?” she demands. “You’ve sat on my front porch all week, not saying a damn word. She’s been at your home the last two times I’ve been there, bragging about getting married and starting a family. Please tell me what the hell I’m supposed to think. How am I supposed to believe you?”
“Because, I fucking love you, that’s how. Because you’ve been my everything since the moment I saw you. I’ve never given you a reason to doubt that.”
She hesitates as her bottom lip quivers. “She was wearing one of your shirts with your baby inside her. What was I supposed to think? She told me that you have no interest in keeping me around anymore, that I was a little bit of fun on the side, and now you’re done.”
“No baby, that’s not what’s happening at all. Ask yourself, if I was done, why would I be here, desperately trying to get you back?”
Amelia’s head falls forward, dropping down to her hands. “I’m so tired, Bull,” she mumbles into her hands. Though something tells me she’s not referring to her sleepless nights but