Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
After pulling my car into the driveway, I sneak back upstairs, grabbing a bottle of apple juice from the fridge on my way to my room. I take the plan B out of the bag, holding the box in my hand. Turning it over, I read the instructions on the box. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d never taken plan B. Maybe I should have asked a couple of questions before rushing out of the store. I just felt so embarrassed, which was stupid. It’s not like I did anything wrong. I’m just in a tight spot.
Okay, now I’m stalling. I read the instructions, and they seem pretty simple. I’ve got my juice, but it says I should eat something right after taking the pills. Thankfully, I’ve got some granola bars in my nightstand, so that should be good enough.
I rip open the box, taking out the small white pills. There are two of them. It said to take one first, and then the second one twelve hours later. The same exact instructions the pharmacist gave me.
I literally have the pills in my hand, but for whatever reason, I’m not actually taking one. It should be so easy. I’ll just pop it in my mouth, swallow it with a gulp of juice, and then eat my granola bars.
Why is this so hard? Why can’t I take them?
“What’s going on? I don’t want to be pregnant, right? Not with Brick Barrister’s child.”
All I can think about is how good it felt to have Brick come inside of me, to have his cum on my thighs, making me all sticky. To have his seed inside of me.
Jesus Christ! What the fuck am I saying? I’ve never even thought about something like this, not so explicitly. Not even my last boyfriend got me this fired up, but Brick Barrister has my head spinning, causing me to question all of the choices I’m making.
“I can’t do this.” I put the pills back in the box and hide them in my nightstand. I can’t make this choice right now. My mind might be clearer than it was an hour ago, but it’s still all fogged up. I need to talk to Brick before I do anything. Making all of these choices by myself would give me more anxiety than I want to deal with. Brick needs to take responsibility for his part in this mess. Yes, I’m the one who started this crazy saga, but it’s not like he’s totally innocent. He’s the one who escalated things and then thought it would be a great idea to have sex.
“Fucking Brick Barrister.”
That’s it, I’m going to go talk to him. It’s the right thing to do. Maybe he’ll have some ideas, or maybe he’ll… I don’t know. Maybe he’ll have a new perspective I wouldn’t be able to come up with myself. I’m not going to get my hopes up – that way, whatever happens, I won’t be too upset with the ending.
Whew, I am tired. So much has happened in a single day. I need to get some sleep, so I take off my outside clothes and put on my PJs from before. I curl up under the covers and will myself to sleep, setting aside all of my problems for another day.
I’m at work, organizing the new arrivals for Abigail. This is usually one of my favorite things to do because it means being in the back without having to deal with my boss. I also get to interact with the new flowers, setting them up to thrive until they can be taken home with their new owners.
It’s like meditation to me and is even slightly therapeutic.
But ever since Saturday, my mind has been reeling. I waffled between simply calling Brick and just totally blocking his number all day Sunday. In the end, I didn’t call him, but I didn’t block him either. I ended up doing nothing.
I decided that the best course of action was to talk to him in person. I don’t know where he lives, so I had to wait until Monday, which is today. But I also have to work. There have been so many roadblocks, but that’s not going to deter me from my goal. I’ve been moving through this day, waiting until the moment I can clock out and confront this man.
Arranging all of these flowers is giving me some peace of mind, but I’m still totally fixated on Brick. I can’t get him out of my mind. His scent is still sticking to my skin, or at least it feels like it is.
“Tammy!” I jump a bit when my name is called, the roses in my hand getting jostled. They haven’t been dethorned yet, so they cut my palm a little.
“Shit!” I whisper. I put the flower down and watch the little specks of blood coming out of my open skin. They’ll clot pretty quickly because they’re such tiny cuts, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. If Abigail could have waited two minutes, I wouldn’t have had the stems in my hand. But how could she have known? She’s just generally annoying, I guess.