Written with You (The Regret Duet #2) - Aly Martinez Page 0,1
by making a baby with Caven of all fucking men?”
She shot me a smirk. “Is that what you’re mad about? That I fucked your precious Caven?” His name was a sneer on her lips, and that shot anger up my spine.
“No. See. I’d expect that from you. Honestly, I’m impressed you waited as long as you did. God knows you’ve been trying to punish me for not dying in that shooting for eighteen years now. And what better way than having a baby with the boy who saved me and then giving her up without even telling me?” I planted my hands on my hips and fought back the sobs. “I know you hate me. I know you’ve never forgiven me for being the reason we were at the mall that day. And I know—”
“You know nothing!” She suddenly shot to her feet. “For fuck’s sake, maybe it wasn’t about you, Willow. Ever think of that? I’m sorry to disappoint, but this wasn’t some grand plan devised to torture you. He had Kaleidoscope, plain and simple.”
I ground my teeth and it was a wonder I had any left for all the times we’d had this very same argument. “Don’t you dare mention that picture. Don’t you fucking dare.”
She stared at me, utterly unphased. “You weren’t there.”
I lifted my shirt, pointing to the scar of puckered flesh that had stretched into a spider web over the years. “I was there, Hadley. I was there in ways you will never understand. So don’t you dare talk to me about that damn picture.”
She shrugged. “Then I guess this conversation is over, because without that picture, I can’t talk to you about the baby at all.”
I took a step toward her, her betrayal igniting me into a fiery rage. “The baby? Her name is Keira. Have the decency to at least acknowledge her as a human and not a sack of potatoes you paid a hooker to abandon!”
“I didn’t abandon her. I left her with Caven.”
“So that makes it better?”
“I figured you’d be fucking ecstatic. He always kept you safe.”
I closed my eyes, tears born in frustration flowing down my cheeks.
How did she not understand this?
How could she breathe a single breath knowing there was a little girl out there growing up without a mother?
How did her heart continue beating knowing she’d given up the only family we’d ever have?
How could she have closed her eyes at night for over three years without the regret consuming her?
It had only been a day since I’d found out about that baby and I was crippled by those emotions.
She had a daughter. How had she just left her and then gone on with her life?
I shook my head. “If Mom and Dad could see you now… Jesus, Hadley. You named her after Mom and then gave her away.”
Her eyes flashed dark, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “I didn’t give her away. I gave her to someone who could take care of her.”
“I could have taken care of her!”
A malevolent smirk pulled at her lips as she stepped toward me. Her hand went to my side, directly over my scar.
I winced, knowing where this was going.
She was high. She had no filter when she was using. But this was a new low.
Thanks to Malcom Lowe’s bullet, having children was officially off the table for me. I’d known it since I was a kid myself, but the older I got, the more it seemed to matter. It was the wound that never stopped giving. A scar that wouldn’t heal. The loss of a future I never got to choose.
I hated her for what she was about to say.
I hated her for what she knew about me.
But most of all, I hated her because she knew it all and was going to say it anyway.
She gave my scar a squeeze. “I’ve spent my entire life wishing I could be you. How’s it feel to finally wish you could be me?”
“I hate you,” I breathed, the gaping hole she’d carved making it nearly impossible to speak.
She released me, stepping away, but her gaze never left mine. “No, you don’t. You hate me because I fucked Caven. You hate me for being able to carry a baby. You hate me for seeking the truth. But you don’t hate me, Willow. And you never will.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug as though she’d just disagreed with me about what to have for dinner that night. “That’s your biggest