Nightfall ✓

Chapter 26

"I- I don't think we should be jumping to conclusions on our own," he stuttered. "We should get a test done."

"Do you think it will be a boy? I hope it is. I hope he has your eyes. It would be like seeing you grow up."

He looked at me as if I'd asked him to eat rotten cheese. "What are you talking about?"

I frowned. "The baby, of course. I just told you."

"You mean... you want to have this baby?"

I was stunned to silence. "Now what are you talking about?"

"You're just twenty years old, Hazel. You want to have a baby?"

"So what if I'm twenty? Can't I have a baby?"

"No! You can't!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Christ."

"Why not? I want to!"

"But I don't want a baby yet! Do you realize how large a responsibility this is? We're not even married yet!"

"Can't we have a baby without getting married?"

He sat up straight and looked directly into my eyes. "Aren't you listening? This is not the age for a baby. And I'm not ready for a baby." He wrapped his fingers around my wrists, so tightly that my fingers felt numb from the lack of blood supply. He leaned closer. "I want to do something with my life, I want to settle down before we start a family. And do you think it is wise to give birth to a baby while that ghost is still here? Or have you forgotten about that prank call?"

That reminder was like a slap to my face. "But..." I was at a loss for words.

"We'll get a test done," he said. "If it's positive, we'll get an abortion done."

I shivered. That sounded horrible. Utterly wrong. "I can't kill a baby. Our baby."

"It's not a baby yet, Hazel! It's just a zygote!"

"That is just... you— you ruined it. Zygote? That is such a horrible word to describe something so beautiful. I thought you'd be happy!"

"Happy about what? You're being stupid, Hazel."

That hurt. Hearing that from the mouth of someone whom I loved with all my heart, it stung. My eyes filled with tears. "Why are we fighting?"

"I don't know." He crossed his arms and refused to look at me. The tips of his ears had turned red. So he was angry, was he? I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him deeply, enjoying the feel of his strong hands on my waist. I rested my head on his chest. "I love you, Lemonade."

He sighed. "Hazel, you won't have this baby."

"I will, Liam."

He pushed me away roughly, and I tumbled off the bed. My ankle scraped against a corner of the bed causing some skin to peel off. I cried out, and looked at him in disbelief. He'd never done that before. He'd never even fought with me, let alone hurt me physically. He looked at me, shocked by what he'd done.

"Shit," he said, and scrambled up. "Hazel—"

"I'm fine," I snapped, and stormed into the bathroom. It kind of still smelled like vomit, so I sprayed some air-freshener and flushed the toilet, and bent down to examine my foot. It was nothing, really; just a tiny scratch, dotted with tiny droplets of blood wanting to come out. I suspended my foot under the tap and washed it. Why then, did it hurt so much? Why did I feel like crying?

Because it was Liam who'd done this.

Now, it wasn't like I'd never been hurt physically. Of course I had been. My dad used to slap me when he felt like I was wasting my life by painting. But that didn't hurt. Because I didn't care.