All her life, Bryanna thought sparks in your heart, butterflies in your belly was the start of a great love story. She saw it in her parents' and best friend's relationships. So, when Nate walked in and made her a blubbering mess, Bryanna was pretty sure he was the one. But the sparks he started? Those butterflies he awaken? Left her heart broken and ... pregnant. Then there was Lincoln. His grumpy self and brooding expression saved her from herself and it scared her. What was this? But if one thing those hurt Nate caused taught her was; that true love is hard to find, and it is something you don't let go. You'll hold for that kind of love forever. For ... Always. **** I loved Bryanna since as long as I can remember. And I loved her enough to see her happy with someone else. But, when that fu*ker left her? I snapped. But love had never been easy. Now that she finally knows that I love her, I will do my best to prove my love. I have loved her from the start, I will love her forever. I will love her, ... Always.
View More“No, you’re not!”
My phone suddenly fly out of my hand. “Hey!” I sit from the laying down I did just moments ago. “Mo, I know you’re upset with me but please don’t take it out on my phone, okay?”Morwenna “Mo” Hattersley has been my best friend since as long as I can remember. Our fathers were college best friends became partners in Jackson and Hattersley and partners, a law firm they’ve built together for nearly three decades. Our mothers instantly became friends after they met our fathers, had had so many double dates, girls days and nights sent them on the fast train to become best friends too.And now they're like our extended family. Shared birthdays, celebrations, holidays and vacations.Morwenna and I, we were truly what people say the opposite faces in the same coin. Being the go-getter, you-only-live-once kinda girl she is, Mo will be the one girl you find bungee-jumping, zip-lining, or do anything adrenaline-related (because adrenaline rush was so addictive, her words not mine, that crazy girl). And every the fashionista, her obsession on fashion world and celebrities is bordering unhealthy. Mo will be the first to know updates on fashion, celeb gossips, and what-oh-so-in on the internet.But the unhealthy obsession was what make her good at what she's doing as a professional shopper.Meanwhile I, on the other hand, well, I am me. I, of course, chose to spend my free time hiding behind the pages of romance novels I love so much. Or, laying on my hammock in my parents’ backyard, under the sun, listening to some ballad or acoustic songs with my headphone on. Or, had snuggle fest with Boo, my giant brown teddy bear a give from an ex, binge-watched N*****x on the couch.I still did those, but instead of in the backyard, I have a hanging hammock chair which I put in the corner of my room near the floor to ceiling glass window with the central park view. And I didn't bring Boo with me when I moved out of the house.I binge-watch N*****x snuggle buddy-less and without the 'chill' part. (You know what I mean). Sigh.She was the blonde to my brunette.The skinny to my curvy.The super model goddess to the plain me.“Whatever! But you, Bryanna, have to pinky swear me you won’t be there!”Her and her pinky swear. I'm shaking my head in my head.Yeah, she was the fun to my nerd, all right.We're in my room. I am sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing my respective pajama--thread bare, very old gray t-shirt with holes, I admit, and flanel pants with smiley face all over them. In the meantime, Lady Bryanna is wrap in black silk dress.It’s crystal that Mo doesn’t like my plan. She’s not only doesn’t like it, she hates it with all of her. Look at how her stilletto ruins my rug with her pacing. That’s how she tried to control herself before she’d go ballistic on me.“But, Mo, I have to do this. I need to do this. Then I’ll be done.”At least, I can promise her that.Hearing the resign in my voice, her pace slows. I know her intention is good, she don’t want me to get hurt, again, but she have to understand that I have to do this, for me. For me so I can get my closure and move on with my life. For me because I don't want to have any regret. For me so I can say my goodbye.What she don’t know is--at least not yet-- that from now on, everything won’t be the same anymore.No matter what.*****Six months ago*I close my eyes, massaging my forehead hoping the headache these sheets on my desk brings would lessen. It’s only ten in the morning and my head feels like ready to explode. This past couple months, I’ve been slaving myself on this project for a brand new hotel downtown. I can’t complain, though, the paycheck will be worth it.“Hey, girl, whatsup?” I answer the call after checking the picture on the screen.“Happy birthday!” she yells, literally in my ear so I have to drag the phone away because I want to keep my eardrum safe.“Mo, this is the third times you shout it in three hours. And for the third times, I want to say thank you and ask you to stop,” I tell her half-amused half-serious.“And here I am, committed to give it to you twenty-four times. It’s your 24th birthday, girl.”Don’t I know it. “Will you stop if I ask you nicely?”“Of course not!”I roll my eyes. Sometime I think exaggeration is her middle name. “Okay, you know I’m deeply moved by your action, your dedication to remind me of my birthday, but please, Mo, please, instead of calling me, please just text the rest of the congratulations. You know I am in the middle of working my ass off for this project. Please?” I wonder if she can see me through my pleases.“Oookaaay,” she sing-songs. I can hear the amusement in her voice. “See you at Stewart’s then. Don’t be late. Bye!”She hung up on me.****Stewart’s is a popular bar downtown we’ve been regularly visiting since the early age of drinking. Besides the warm and comfortable vibe, Bradley Stewart, the owner, has consistently have a live music performance three days a week for their evening crowd. As a former rock-god slash bar-owner, Brad wants to provide good food and good music, the two important things in life, he said, at the same time. He wants his place to give those new musicians out there a fighting chance in reaching their dreams, a point to start, to nurture their talent, to introduce themselves to the world.Now that Brad was planning to retire and finally going to give his wife a vacation he promised her forever ago, he started to include his son, Lincoln, in running this place, who happens to be my older brother’s best friend.Morwenna and some of our college friends are already waiting when I get to the table. Misty, Claire, Glenn and Ben stands and gives me their congratulatory hugs and kisses. Glenn even doing the curtsy when he grab my chair. “Have a seat, milady.” He winks before setting on the chair beside me. Always the flirt.As if on cue, Brad comes to the table singing Happy Birthday, soon my friends joining him and we attracts another patrons’ attention which then joining them as well. One of the server, Tris, trailing behind with a mad stack of what I guess are banana pancakes, a candle in the middle. I reaches Mo’s hand and mouthed thank you.This was our ritual, having birthdays here, but even a ritual could always get you emotional, you know. With teary eyes and tender heart, I blow the candle. “Thank you so much, you guys.”“Special treat for my special girl.” Brad hugs me. “Happy birthday.”“Happy birthday, little Jackson,” Lincoln parrots. Well, it doesn’t surprise me I don’t notice him standing near. Lincoln always come and go as he please.“Well, hello there.” Is heard through the speaker. “Next number is a special request for our birthday girl. Happy Birthday.”I look at the stage. “Is he new?” a question ask to no one in particular.“Yeah, he came by and saw me two weeks ago. Asked him to sing a few, thought he was good and he’s been performing for two days,” answers Brad who’s still standing behind me. Lincoln who had stood beside him before is nowhere to be found.“Just listen to him. I asked him to play something special as your present. But I don’t know what song he will play. Guess we’ll see. Hope you like it. And again, happy birthday, Sweetheart.” He kisses my temple. “I’ll leave you to it, then. You guys have fun. On the house tonight.”Before I could protest, he waves his hand bye and head back to his office.The sound of guitar playing fills the room.'Let’s dance, little stranger, show me secret sins'With the stage front and center, a foot higher than the rest of the cafe, it’s easy to spot the person whom the really smooth voice are belong. Sitting on a stool, an acoustic guitar in hand, his fingers strums the strings effortlessly.'Won’t you dance with me, in my world of fantasy''Won’t you dance with me ...'I look at him and there are the most beautiful set of blues. I look, he looks and from the first time those beautiful ocean eyes grabbed my hazels, I feel something flutter inside me. I don’t know what, but it compells me to just stare at him.And listen to his sweet voice.And I think he knows what is happening in me, because he smirks.And my oh my ... that little smirk.Here comes trouble.****What's happening to me?It is not until I hear the familiar voice of Nurse what's-her-name that my hard-beating heart slows down.Holy moly, Batman. I'm a mess."Oh, hey. You must be the baby daddy. Glad to see you," she greets with her cheery voice.Before I can turn on my back and swat that statements away to hell, Linc chimes in, "Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Lincoln."What in the actual hell? I sit up too fast and get myself a whiplash.Shit."Whoa, whoa, slow down, honey." The nurse suddenly stood beside me and holds me on the forearm. "Didn't think you'll be so excited to see me," she jests, trying to make it light.The giant prick snickers.I try to send a glare at him discreetly but fail miserably when Nurse—I glance at her tag—Laura eyes us back and forth. "Everything alright, honey?" she asks as she checks up on my vital."Yeah," I croak, "everything is fine.""I guess so." She writes something on the paper she brought with her. "And, please, lay low for a while, yeah? No inten
What the hell is he doing here? Who do he think he is showing up in my room after ALL that he did? And, yeah, I really mean ALL OF IT.The nerve of this freaking prick."Sweetheart, is everything okay?"Dad's voice break through the fog of disdain that coated my brain, but, still, it takes a while for the question to truly register. I shift my eyes from the big, uninvited, and unwelcomed guy that now standing near my bed to my parents.And, it's not a surprise to see confusion painting their faces. Because of course they didn't know. And I don't want them to ever know about what had happened between me and the guy who they think of as their own son beside Adrian.Don't ask. I personally don't know why I'm still trying to keep this as a secret from them. Either I want to keep my name, or ....Don't. Don't go there.I shouldn't think like that way. I shouldn't think about it anymore.This is all his fault.But I can do nothing about it in front of mom and dad. "Yeah, yeah, Daddy. Everyth
What the fuck did he just say?What. The. Fuck?"What the fuck, Linc? You're not listening?" protests Adrian.Yep, you see that right. The very best friend who had ghosted me for this past months is now drinking my liquor like it's fresh water and he's been stranded on the Sahara.I should have known when I saw his ass walking in from the door that he wasn't bearing any good news. I should have known when I saw him and he just waved his hand asking for a drink. I should have known.When the most stubborn prick on the planet shows up at your bar after punching your mug ugly, giving you silent treatment for months, you know something is wrong.And it really is. Terribly, fucking devastatingly wrong."Slow down, man. You want to knock yourself out or something?" I warn, reaching for the bottle he is gripping so hard like a lifeline.He swats my palm. Hard. Fuck, that hurts."Yeah, yeah. I wanna do that so baaad," he slurs. He then chuckles. "You realize how funny it was? I'm trying to kno
I can't. I can't do this anymore.My body is so weak. There's nothing left to be released from my belly, but my throat don't get the memo and keeps on constricting. Dry heaving is sooo draining.With shaky legs, with the last strength I have in me, I drag my body out of the bathroom and reach for my phone on the bedside table.I can't do this alone.I can't if I want my baby safe.I can't if I want to safe me too.The call is still connecting.Come on, pick up. God, help me, God. Help. Please. Please. Please.She picks up on the third ring."Sweetie?" she asks, a little hesitant. Maybe she's questioning her own eyes. She doesn't believe I am calling her now. This is my fault. I did this to her. I stopped calling her months ago.God."Mama," I answer, as loud as I can. But, with the abused throat and the dehydration, I sound like a scratch on a sandpaper.Hearing this, her alarms picks up. "Sweetie, what's happening? Are you okay?" Panic colors her voice."No, Ma," I croak again."Oh my
And suddenly out of nowhere Nate is everywhere.The internet is blowing with the news of this up and coming artist who will certainly make you lost your mind with his voice and his charm. They talked about his looks. His hypnotizing blue eyes, his lean but now muscular body. They talked about the aura he's giving out. They talked about his first single which successfully placed Nate on the chart, on people's attention. The other star starts to notice him too. They talked about that "mini tour" he did. They talked about his soon to be out first album. They talked about a real big all around the States tour after that. They talked about everything Nathaniel Moore. And they talked about all of his sexcapades. It seems like the rising star has already spread his wings in the women section. Then I see it. A photo of Nate kissing a woman in front of a building, a hotel to be exact. Bile rising in my throat. I'm gonna be sick. I run to the bathroom in my office and heaving to the toilet
NowShe darts through the apartment and be in my room in a speed of light. "Tell me you listened to me," she demands as soon as she's here.I am leaning back against the head of the bed with pillows supporting my back and going through social media like nothing happened. I mean, nothing had happened if I consider what I did as nothing. Right?"Bry!" She snatches my phone away. "Hey!" I exclaim, sitting up. "I know you're upset but can you please not take it out on my phone?""Tell me you didn't do anything stupid," she insists. Her beautiful eyes penetrates me, searching for the truth from deep inside of me. She, like hundreds of times before, sees everything. "You did, didn't you?"Gotcha. But I keep my eyes on hers. "Why, Bry? Why? He's a jerk! You've been good these past months. You're better. You're happy again. Why?" I shrug. She's still waiting for my answer. She gets none of it. "That's it?" she gawks at my response. "I'm worrying myself sick about you and you just shrug
Fuck. I'm pregnant. The last nine pregnancy tests on the sink said I am. The last one, the tenth out of ten I hurriedly bought this morning, now I'm holding in my trembling hand says the same.I'm fucking pregnant. How? Shit. I didn't just ask that. I know the how. I know the why. I know for sure the who. I just ... can't wrap my mind around it. Fuck. Shit.I touch my still flat stomach with shaking hands. I am pregnant. I have a baby in me. A baby is growing in my belly. What the fuck should I do? I really have to stop cussing. It's not good for the baby, is it? Fu—God! I'm having a baby? My feet feels weak. I totally should sit on this. Where do I sit? Here, on the bathroom floor? Oh, okay. I can't be thinking about all the germs in time like this. I really, really, really need to sit before my legs give out. Please, don't. I can't add falling into the things that will giving bad impact for the baby. Me freaking out right now is enough stress. I think. Right? RIGHT? O
"Fuck, this is hard. Why is this so hard?" "Well, good morning to you too." I follow her into my apartment. It's only nine in Saturday morning. I should be sleeping, soundly, on my bed. Instead I'm waking up to this woman's hectic call telling me that she wants me to open the apartment door for her myself. She still have her key though. You need to know that. Get why I'm a tiny bit pissed at my best friend? My best friend who is all curled up on the couch now. And still whining. "Why, why, why?" I sit my sleepy butt on the coffee table. "What happened?" She whines some more. My brows slowly takes a hike to my forehead. Well, this is unusual. "Mo, what's going on?""There's nothing going on. Nothing happened," she chokes from behind her palms.Reaching out, I pull her hands with mine. Red rimming her wet eyes. Worry starts to color my face. "Then what is it?" She huffs, wipes her eyes, and sits up. Casting her gaze down on her lap, she explains, "I just got my period after a wee
"I think I'm done." I wake up from the stupor I was in and put the milkshake back onto the table at last. Then I clean my hands with the napkin. Dump the dirty paper on my plate. At the very last, I paste the fakest smile on my face and direct it to Mo. She knows. She knows what I'm honestly asking of her. Get me out of here. She slaps the same fake smile as quick. However it is a little slanted, making her look like she's battling constipation right now. My smile morphs into something a bit more real. Only her. I internally shake my head. But, I still need to get out of this hell, like five seconds ago."Linc, can we get these boxed? I'm sorry, but suddenly I have this urge to eat at home where I can stretch my legs and watch some bad TV with my best friend. You know, enjoying the good life."What the heck? What is she talking about? Only her. Indeed, only MY best friend. "Okay." Lincoln's voice pictures his bewilderment perfectly. I still don't have the nerve to look at him.
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