𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

43

Hours ago, Doctor Shique delivered some mind-numbing news, sending me into a state of panic while Ewan held me in his arms, allowing me to cry into his chest until my tears ran dry. He didn't let go of me, even when I laid down, holding on to him until finally passing out.

He's still here, Gabs and my parents are nowhere to be seen, Ewan's head, rests on the edge of the bed with his palm covering my hand, absentmindedly stroking his thumb over the skin while he sleeps. I've been awake for about twenty minutes, staring at the clock above the bathroom door, wondering what the hell I'm going to do.

A lot of information is whizzing around in my head, some unanswered, driving me fucking crazy with frustration. The lingering effects of the medication that they found in my system still cloud my mind—exhaustion, drowsiness, and confusion.

I have flashes of memories, but they are more like a recollection of a bad dream. I see him... Toby, and my heart twists in my chest at the last look he gave me before leaving me alone to my own, haunting, dark thoughts.

My eyes drop from the clock to Ewan, his face is relaxed, flawlessly blessed with the longest lashes I've ever seen and a jawline that could cut you open. With his sleeves riding up his arms, I can see the dark ink of skulls and roses, Jason's name with roman numerals underneath, and vine patterns swirling around his tense muscles. I know if I slide the material up an inch higher, I'll see my name.

You'd think after ten years I would be used to seeing him this way, but I'm not afraid to admit that I do, and always have felt strongly about this dickhead. It's unfortunate that we don't work, I tried to get past the betrayal all those years ago, but paranoia and resentment just ate away at me until I couldn't take it anymore.

And now I'm pregnant, and it's breaking my heart that he isn't my child's father. I always thought that we'd get past the hurdle, we could really be that couple who surpassed the test of true love. But I guess that shit only happens in fairy tales.

Let's face it, my life is far from a fucking fairy tale.

Releasing my hand from Ewan's, I lean over and grab my phone, keeping my eye on him as I turn it on and wait for my notifications to stop. Of course, there are messages from Toby, and a few missed calls.

Whiplash: Where are you?

Whiplash: Seriously, Aria... where the fuck are you? I'm sorry I got mad; I can explain. Just answer my call or message me back.

I scroll down to the last message, my nostrils flaring with rage, but my eyes are also welling up because I'm an emotional bitch who can't seem to turn her feelings off.

Whiplash: I need to know that you're okay, Aria. I want to explain, or at least try to, please answer me.

I take a deep breath, my eyes dropping to Ewan momentarily, feeling my anger building as my fingers tap away on the keyboard at lightning speed.

Me: You have a lot to fucking explain. Do you know where I am? You probably do because you're some sort of crazy control freak that drugged your now ex-girlfriend for some reason. You're so lucky that you aren't in front of me because I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from hitting you. As soon as I get a clear explanation, and one that doesn't involve me losing my medical badge for being an apparent drug abuser, I want you out of my life—for good. Got it?

I turn off my screen, trying to regulate my breathing before I wake Ewan up. Keeping my eyes on the clock once more. I follow the hand twirling around each number, my heart rate slowing down. Nerves are eating away at me, for probably the wrong reasons too.