Charlotte Delaney has sworn off men. After one relationship disaster after another- including turning a guy gay!- Charlotte is so over the male species.
Isaac Fletcher had his heart cruelly broken. Yes, it was years ago. No, he never got over it. I...
Here's a BONUS CHAPTER for you all. I think where we left off after chapter 9 was a bit of a cliffhanger and I didn't want to delve into Chapter 10 tomorrow without discussing The Revelation, as I've begun to call it.
I've never really explained my updating schedule for this story, either, so let me do that now! It will be updated once a week- each week/chapter represents a week of Charlotte's pregnancy- and my update day will either be a Saturday or a Sunday, depending on what I've got going on. So, yeah. That's that. Here's the BONUS CHAPTER!
Sarah, xx
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"You better start talking, Isaac," Lottie growled, her hands on her hips as she stared at me accusingly.
"In my defence, it's not like the topic of conversation has ever risen before and it's not something I tend to start conversations with, either. In fact, with most women, it tends to be a conversation killer, not that there's ever much talking when I'm with the opposite sex; it's mainly a lot of kissing, a lot of stripping, and then an epic workout. But I digress. I never lead with the fact that, at thirty-four years of age, I have a seventeen-year-old daughter.
If you do the math work, you'd know that I was only a teen myself when Martha was born. My girlfriend at the time, Alyssa Campbell, was my first- and to date- only love. She and I began dating when we were fourteen and it was the classic love at first sight deal. At least for me. I'm pretty sure Aly thought I was a massive dick and I had to work really hard to get her to trust me.
Eventually, it paid off and by the time we were fifteen, I'd already planned my whole life to revolve around her. Aly wanted to be an actress. She wanted to move to Los Angeles, get a part in a Leonardo DiCaprio movie and be this A-lister that the entire world knew of. I supported that, vowing to move there with her and to be a house husband and father whenever we decided to have children.
'Not until I'm at least, like, thirty-five,' Aly would always tell me.
Even though we were young when we started dating, it took us a good few years to become intimate. Aly said that she wanted to wait until everything was perfect and that if we rushed into it, our relationship would be ruined. The more I thought of it, I had to agree with her that building an emotional relationship was far more important than just sex. Then, when we sixteen, we took it to the next level.
It wasn't special. The opposite, actually. It was on a rainy, disgusting Saturday afternoon and there was nothing better to do. It was over in less than five minutes and we hardly spoke after, simply lying in bed next to each other, not talking. It was the most awkward experience of my life. It got better, of course. I learnt to last longer.
Still, our relationship continued but in those few weeks after our first time, things began to change. It was barely noticeable, at first. Aly was distracted. She wouldn't return my calls. She could hardly look at me in the eye. Sure, we were physically intimate but that emotional connection we'd built was quickly deteriorating. I couldn't understand why.
