She nearly slammed the door in our faces.
After Andrew had introduced himself to Bellamy's mother, whom I remembered to be Mrs. Greene, she stood there behind the threshold without saying a word.
Stoic. Not a single expression.
Andrew put his palm on the front door before it shuts and he pushes it slightly back open. Mrs. Greene's nostrils flared as he did so.
There's still open wounds, I'm guessing.
"What could you possibly want? You killed my daughter!" She exclaimed, her eyes glossy from tears.
I grabbed Andrew's hand for support, and I noticed him starting to tense up. I kissed his back through his shirt to calm him down.
"I-I just wanna t-talk. That's all." His eyes searching the ground and his head hung low.
"You've done enough to this family." She spat, and was quite literally about to slam the door again.
That's when I had to come into the conversation.
I stopped the door with my foot, and she eyed me curiously.
"With all due respect Mrs. Greene, we traveled a good amount of time to get here and visit you. All Andrew wants is to explain himself for some clarity, and I'm sure you would want some clarity too."
She exhaled heavily, looking between the two of us.
"Are you two—"
"I'm just here for moral support." I cut her off. "Please, just hear him out. He wants closure just as much as you do."
Mrs. Greene nodded slowly, and she opened the door more for us to enter. I looked back, grabbing Andrew's hand and pulling him inside.
It was a small, quaint townhouse. The front room had some stairs leading to the second level, and to our right was the living room. There was a brick fireplace, and an L-shaped couch, accompanied with a rug and a glass coffee table.
She brought us over to the couch, and gestured for us to sit down. We sat down next to one another, and I put my hand on his thigh.
"I'll go grab some tea for us to drink." Mrs. Greene stated before walking behind us to the kitchen. We heard pots rustling, and the fridge opening as we sat idly in their living room.
"Hey," I whispered. "You can do this. I know you probably thought she wouldn't let us in, but now that she has you can finally get what you've wanted for almost two years."
He looked at me with a face of concern. "I don't think I can, Lia. Didn't you hear her? I ruined their family."
"You know you didn't do this, Andrew. She needs someone to blame because she didn't exactly know what happened. Her parents don't understand the situation enough."
"Maybe so, but that's not gonna stop them from blaming me."
I sighed, putting my hand on his cheek. "To be completely honest, I don't think they'll ever forgive you. But this isn't for forgiveness, this is for closure. For them, and for you."
He leaned toward me and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. It was short, but longer than a few seconds. When we pulled away, his lips lingered on mine, and I pulled him into a hug.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Greene came back with four cups of tea. She handed us ours, and she placed the other two on the coffee table. Her husband accompanied us in the living room, sitting in one of the lonely chairs by the window.
"I'm guessing he's here to talk about our daughter." Mr. Greene said, passively.
"I am." He sighed, gathering up the little courage he had left. "Look, Mr. and Mrs. Greene, I know how much Bellamy meant to you; she's your daughter. But she meant a great deal to me too."
Mrs. Greene scoffed. "If she meant a great deal to you, maybe you should've protected her more. I mean, a criminal on the run comes knocking on your door to take your car, why didn't you just drive away?"
"H-He had a gun! I didn't—"
"You should've protected her." Her husband added. "You loved her, right? Why didn't you take the bullet for her?"
"Trust me, I wish I could. B-But it just happened so fast." Andrew's face turned pale as he recalled the events that changed every ounce of who he was. One that turned him from a loving, respectful, and protective man to a cold-hearted, mean-spirited, and over-confident boy.
"I don't believe you." Mrs. Greene raised her voice.
Andrew got up from his spot on the couch. "Look, you don't have to believe me. All I want to say is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did to this family. I'm sorry for making you hate me so much. I loved your daughter, very much. In fact, she was the first person I truly loved. You don't have to forgive me for what you think I've done to her, that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to talk with you, respectfully, and to maybe figure out a compromise so that you don't have to live with your hearts filled with hatred and anger."
A tear drew from her eye, silently falling down her wrinkled cheek. "You will never be forgiven. Ever. Not from me, not from my husband, and certainly not from Bellamy."
"I don't expect you to forgive me. I just want you to understand where I'm coming from. I thought you would want to here my side of the story."
"Why should I? My daughters dead, Andrew. Anything you say isn't going to bring her back."
Mr. Greene's eyes were fixated on me, curiously. He tilted his head, analyzing me and most likely wondering what I'm doing here.
I haven't been talking, because I wanted Andrew to vent out his feelings, and to not only recognize them, but understand them too.
"Who is this? Your girlfriend?" Mr. Greene asked with a mean tone.
Mrs. Greene let out a devilish laugh. "Girlfriend? Listen, sweetheart, run while you still can. It might just save your life."
"W-We're just friends." I spoke.
Andrew looked at me, his eyes narrowing. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. He turned to the both of them, sitting back down and locking his hand with mine.
"No. We're not friends." He spoke harshly, and they shut themselves up. "She's my girlfriend and before you make some childish comment about her being my girlfriend, and your daughter dying, just shut up and keep it to yourself. Look, it's a shame that your daughter died, alright. But it wasn't my fault. I blamed myself every waking minute because you drilled some fucked up accusation in my head. I couldn't get what you told me out of my head...until she came along, and told me it wasn't my fault. And you know what? I know it's not my fault. I always protected your daughter, and I would always fight for her. So, stop making me the bad guy, when there was a clearly bigger threat that night, and that threat killed your daughter."
I was in awe. He was so nervous, so scared of how much Bellamy's parents would hate him for that night. He walked in without any confidence, and now that he's heard that her parents are childish and blame everything on him, he doesn't want to take it anymore. And I don't blame him.
He doesn't deserve this burden.
"You think you can speak to my wife that way?" Mr. Greene stood up.
"Why do you hate me so much? Blame me all you want, but Bellamy died almost two years ago. I already told you I tried everything I could. So, why do you hate me? What did I do to deserve this?"
Mrs. Greene's face went pale, and her and her husband exchanged worrisome looks.
"There's something you should know...about Bellamy." She spoke softly, and very immediate change from the stressful atmosphere.
"What? What is it?"
Mrs. Greene went over to the armoire right by the fireplace, pulling out a manila folder from one of the drawers. She walked back over, placing it carefully on the glass table.
"We don't hate you, Andrew. We—I might have said something's I didn't mean. But I am just so angry about the situation, and I didn't expect you to show up out the blue wanting to come inside our home. It's hard for us to even talk about our late daughter so much, and I guess we just needed to let out our frustrations at someone. I'm just shocked you don't know."
"Don't know what? What happened?" Andrew asked urgently.
"Open up the folder." Mr. Greene instructed him, and Andrew began doing so.
He took out two pieces of paper. One had some writing on it, and another had a picture. I couldn't quite make out what the picture was.
Andrew's face turned pale and cold. His body was covered in goosebumps, and he didn't say anything. He was just staring at the contents in the folder, like it somehow just changed everything.
"I remember that night like it was yesterday." Mrs. Greene started.
Bellamy has just gotten home from school. She came back a little late because she needed to take a quick trip to the grocery store.
She rushed saying her 'hellos' to the both of us, and she ran on upstairs. My husband and I exchanged looks of confusion, like we knew something was up, but we just didn't know what.
Next thing I know, I was cooking dinner and Bellamy came down, crying. Her shirt was soaked with tears, and her eyes were red and puffy. I pulled her into a hug, as did her father, and we asked her what was wrong.
When she told us, we didn't know what to do. There were so many things swirling around in our minds. Bellamy was sixteen at the time, and this was about three months before her tragic death.
She had her whole life, her whole future ahead of her. And it was ripped away by a guy who wanted to get away from a crime he committed.
"We spent the entire dinner that night, silent and unsure of what to say." Mrs. Greene recalled.
"Andrew? Are you okay?" I asked him, and he didn't respond. He stood still, almost like he was a statue incapable of moving.
He was breathing rapidly, and his eyes were going crazy at the papers in front of him.
"It's okay, honey. We were like that too when we first found out. It took us weeks to finally process everything, and then figure out what we were gonna do. By then, it was too late for her."
"Why? What was in the folder?" I asked.
"Well, it was an ultrasound." Mrs. Greene stated. "Bellamy was a little over three months pregnant."
What?
WHAT?
My jaw dropped, looking over Andrew's shoulder and noticed that the images indeed depicted a small baby. One image had it on its side, and another had a perfect side profile.
I looked at the other piece of paper, the one with the writing on it, and it read:
CONGRATULATIONS it's a........GIRL!
Bellamy was three months pregnant with Andrew's baby. And it was a girl.
I got a serious pit in my stomach, something that tells me that maybe we shouldn't have come after all.
~*~
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BELLAMY WAS PREGNANT! HOLY SHOOT!
This was one of the biggest cliffhangers in Being Bad history! Whoops, sorry!
You'll find out more as the story goes on, but for now you will be left with this.
How will Andrew react? Will this change anything in Andrew and Lia's relationship? What will happen next? What more information do we need to know about Bellamy and her pregnancy?
Find out next chapter!
See you soon!
Much love.
XOXO