Too Late For "I Love You"

* STACEY'S POV *

I sat at the kitchen table. After Delilah's little show last night, I was not able to talk to Allan about the reason he was here. I nervously toyed with my fingers. I wiped down the tables, even though we had cleaners for that. I flattened the creases in my bed, that I created by sitting on it. I walked into the gym and sat in their eating ice-cream. I watched the biggest loser, eating pizza. I needed to keep myself occupied. But I also needed to know why Allan was here! What did he want. I didn't sleep a wink last night, my mind was constantly thinking of all the possible reasons as to why he was here. Was he here to apologize? Maybe he wanted back in on Delilah's life. HECK NO! Was my unconscious answer to that one. Maybe he..tears began to pour out at the thought. Maybe he wants to take her from me!

The doorbell rang. Ugh. There he was, prompt as usual. 1pm on the dot. I opened the door and there he was, that horrible, disgusting figure that I once loved.
"Allan."
"Hello Stacey!" He greeted me cheerfully, "May I come in?" He said, already half way inside.
Yeah sure! Just walk into my house without me fucking saying!
"Sorry what was that?" He asked, smiling evilly. "Sorry?" I asked pretending to be confused, what did he buy telepathic powers since we last spoke. Pfft, wouldn't be suprised, he could afford anything he wanted, as could I.
"Oh never mind" He said...TOOL.
I know to you this might be a bit silly. I'm a grown mother and woman, I shouldn''t be talking like this, right? WRONG! You don't know what I have been through with this guy! Half the shit I had to put up with.

When Allan and I met, we were madly in love. He was about 25 and I was 23. We met at a very sophisticated and posh, work party. We were both celebrating. That night, we got horribly drunk and found out that we had much in common. We were also very young. Alcohol, young people, parties...let me tell you, the night doesn't end well. Especially not for me. That night, was the nigh I ended up with a child. Not that I regret having her, but I do regret who I had her with.

The next few weeks, I decided I had to find Allan, find him and tell him about this child. Over much debate and thought within myself, I chose to keep her. Allan was not happy about this...not at all. Because, it seems when your drunk and at a party, there's an unspoken rule. That is, you don't tell anyone, your married. Yes, he was married. I slept with a married man. Doesn't that just scream ADULTERY.
Totally against my religion.

Of course, having this child, would mean the end of his marriage. (Or so HE said) He tried to pay me off, he paid me to get rid of her. He tried to persuade me to get rid of her. He offered everything he had, just to get rid of her. But all I wanted was for him love her, as he would love his money or cars or precious wife, that is all. And could he give me that?! NO! I think that after everything, and stil not getting the message, he created a whole new definition of low. Instead of just leaving me be, and agreeing to my request, he decided he would take it a step further. How much further you ask? Well, let's say this, I was driving home from work one dark, and gloomy night. Out of nowhere, I see two cars come from behind, swerving around the corner, speeding up as they edged closer. They started to tailgate my car, jerking me forward, obviously trying to make me crash. I knew, who it was. It was him. He paid people to do this. He WANTED to make me crash, he wanted to kill this baby! He wanted her gone! But no, I wouldn't let him do it. I held firm, and as I found a corner, made an eunexpected turn. I drove and drove that night afraid to go home.

Instead I drove to my sister's house, Bethanie. It seemed I brought my family into my own mess. After standing outside her house for an hour or two, waiting. After calling over 100 times, and no one picking up. I would have to climb in the old fashioned way. WINDOW. I shimmied the window open, and squeezed through. I walked around my sister's house, looking for her. I was sure she was here, her car was in the driveway. I climbed the stairs, uneasy and unexpectant of the sight I saw.

My sister, Bethanie. Lieing half dead, beaten and bruised on the floor, panting and bleeding, fighting for her own life. In her hand, a note.

"You have only yourself to blame."

I dialled 911 and the ambulance arrived in an instant. They took her too hospital and I followed close behind. When I got there, I walked to her, laying helplessy in the hospital bed. Fighting for her life. All because of me.

My sister died later that week.
The last thing she said was, "Look after my niece, will you?"

And I have kept my promise to her. I will always keep my promise. I love my daughter, and I'm thankful my sister showed me that I could love her. I don't blame Delilah for her Aunt's death. I blame him.

I glared at him. Thinking of those last moments with my sister. Thinking of how much pain he caused! I hated him. And I didn't want him near me or MY daughter.

"Now, what are you doing here?"
"I was just in the neighbourhood." He shrugged, taking a look at all Delilah's baby photos. I knew what he wanted. And he sure as heck wasn't getting it off me.
"What do you want!?" I spat, infuriated.
"Nothing." He said, so simply I could of choked him then and there.
"With you Allan?!" I laughed, a tone of sarcasm in my voice. "It's NEVER "nothing." Tell me what it is you want, Allan!?" I screamed at him, my eyes piercing his.
"Stacey, I'm only here to talk about our daughter."
"She is NOT your daughter. She will NEVER be "your daughter." As far as her and I are concerned, she does NOT have a father." I opened the door, and motioned him to leave. He did so, without question.

What was he up to? What did he want with her now!?
I picked up a pen and paper and left Delilah a note saying I was out for tonight.
I grabbed my coat and keys and drove to the end of nowhere.