Poison - Jade West Page 0,54

sick. I flushed the toilet and pushed myself to standing, and I was out of there, down the stairs and finding my phone on her coffee table.

No messages.

For once I was so fucking glad there were no messages.

She was wrapped in a satin slip of a thing when she joined me downstairs, and I felt like a prick from all angles.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Fucking hell, Maya, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the whole fucking lot of it.”

I didn’t hang around to hear a response, just threw myself out of there and stumbled down the drive. I squinted and recognised the road and knew I was just a few streets from mine, so I ran.

I ran like a skidding stumbling mess all the way home, and when I got there I fell through the door and hit the floor in the hall, and I hated myself. Our home smelt of us and our life and our future and I hated myself for ever being such a drunken prick.

I called up Anna’s number and thought about hitting dial, but I knew she wouldn’t answer. I pulled up my emails and the emergency contact details of the venue, but couldn’t bring myself to wreck the retreat she was counting on so much just to give her a whole load more stress.

So I didn’t.

I decided I’d stomach the guilt and the self-hate and the serious fucking regret and wait for her to get home. And then I’d beg forgiveness. I’d get down on my knees and confess my stupid sins and beg her to give me another chance at our world.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t, because after two weeks of hating myself and struggling into work with ashen features and an ashen heart to go along with them, I got a call from an unknown number.

Maya Brook’s number.

I had no fucking idea how she’d got mine.

She needed to see me, and her voice was strained.

I told her I didn’t want to see her, but she cried and said I had to.

I think I’d known right then. Known it could only mean one thing.

I met her at the Crown Inn on the city outskirts and I sipped on mineral water while she sipped on the same, and then she pulled a white plastic wand thing from her bag and handed it over.

And there were two blue stripes on it.

I could’ve passed out from the shock.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. “You’ve got me pregnant, Lucas. And I won’t get rid of the baby. I’ll never get rid of the baby.”

My eyes must have been terrified ghosts with no soul as I stared at her across that table.

“You’re sure it’s mine?” I asked and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m definitely sure it’s yours.”

I retched at her pause and she looked so hurt.

“You’re going to be a daddy, Lucas,” she told me. “I hope you’ll live up to it. Please live up to it.”

I didn’t want to live up to it.

I didn’t want to live up to anything to do with Maya fucking Brooks now or forever, but I couldn’t not.

I couldn’t not and I knew it.

“I need to get my head straight,” I told her.

“Sure, I get that.” Her eyes were so hard as she stared over, but there was a flash of fear in them too. It hurt to look at them.

“I’ll be in touch,” I said.

“Please don’t mess up twice, Lucas. Please be there for me. I need you.”

I left her in the pub and was in the same daze I’d been in for weeks, and then I was sick all over again, only this time it wasn’t from drink. It was all from me.

I had to face up to it, and I was scared. I was a scared excuse for a soul watching his world fall away, and I needed someone to tell me I could get through this.

I called my mother and I struggled to speak, and she struggled to speak right back at me. I headed over to hers and she was waiting, as pale as I was, holding me tight as I walked through the door.

My words were a jumbled mess, asking her to please help me work out how I was going to get through this with Anna, but she shook her head.

“No,” she told me. “You won’t get through this with Anna. You’ve made a pit for yourself and now you have to climb on in.”

I was shaking my head, but she was nodding hers.

“You listen to me, Lucas. I