More or Less {A.C.M}

17) History Repeating

I simply sit back, and watch as everyone filters through the terminals, listen as the laughter of children, and the sobs of parents watching children go off on different trips fill the silence. I can practically smell the anxiety in the air. Most of it coming from me. Oh, how I hate to say this, but… I’ve done it again. History has repeated itself.

 

Do I even need to tell you how much it sucks?

 

Didn’t think so.

 

I throw myself back against the extremely uncomfortable steel chair, and lean my head back, thinking about how I got here…

 

~Flashback~

 

“Our what? He asks, staring at me in bewilderment.

 

“Our son, Carter. When I left three years ago, I didn’t leave because I had sex with Dave or because I wanted to travel the world. I left because I was pregnant. With your baby. I was eighteen, and scared, and-”

 

“No!” He shouts, shoving me away from him by my shoulders. I just stand there, stunned by his actions, staring at him in shock. “You’re lying! I don’t have a kid! I can’t! Why the fuck are you lying to me, Piper!”

 

“I’m not lying to you, Carter!” I cry out in desperation, pleading in my head for him to understand. He couldn’t just give up on me now. Not after everything we’ve been through. I need him.

 

“You lying, self centered bitch! Why are you doing this to me! Lying to me, telling me I have a kid!” He shouts back, slamming his fist down on the counter.

 

“I really was pregnant, Carter!”

 

How could he not believe me? Why would I lie to him about this? What could I possibly have to gain from this?

 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that! I just bet it’s not mine! I bet you really did whore around with Dave, and probably got knocked up with his kid, and now you want me to feel bad for your dumbass by telling me it’s mine. That’s it, huh?” He accuses, stepping up so that he was just inches from me, glaring right at me.

 

I just stand here, staring back in shock at his accusations. Everything in me just breaks. Everything hurts, my head is throbbing, my eyes sting with unshed tears, and my heart aches so bad I feel as though it literally crumbled and, is seconds from stopping, and I could just die. Drop dead.

 

Even considering everything I felt the day I left, the three years we were apart, and the time we spent apart when I was in my father’s possession, and the night in the cells, I have never felt anything this lethal before. Every part of me just hurts.

 

That fact that he would accuse me of something like this, lying about this. All for what? To put him through the wringer? I admit, some of the things I’ve done to him were brutal, and dishonest, but to assume that I’d do something like this is just too cold hearted for even me.