I Think I've Finally Had Enough

“Tell me love,” He pleaded, “Tell me the truth. You were going to leave anyway, weren’t you?”

I bit my lip. “You know that’s not true! I just,” I started with tears in my eyes, “I need time. So much is going on and it’s making me sick.”

He shook his head. “Did you tell him the same lie?” He spat.

I rolled my eyes as the tears freely fell. “Fuck you.” I hissed as I walked for the door.

“Already did, love.” He called just before I slammed his flat door shut.

I love him, I really do. But I also love his best friend.

I’m not going to lie and say that nothing good has come out of my stay in London. A lot of good things have happened in the year I’ve lived here. But a lot of drama has come up too.

I sighed and climbed into my waiting cab. I was leaving London, and hopefully, never coming back. Brushing my red hair out of my face, I watched the scenery pass by. One of the first things I’m going to do is let my hair go back to its natural blonde. He always called me Ariel because of my hair. And I could do without that memory. There was going to be a big enough reminder of my two boys. It was going to be there for the rest of my life.

I’m pregnant and one of them is the father.