Page 90

My phone rang.

I looked down, and my breath hitched.Creed.

For a long moment, I just stared at the screen.

"You gonna answer?" Egypt asked, eyebrows raised.

I swallowed hard. Then, slowly, I picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear.

Silence before his familiar voice came through the phone. "Hey."

His voice was low, uncertain.

"Hey," I murmured back getting up from my seat and going out onto the balcony for some privacy. The night air was crisp but not unbearable.

Another pause. Then he exhaled sharply.

"I know I don’t deserve for you to pick up this call," he started. "And I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but…I needed to hear your voice." I bit my lip, my heart tightening. "Serenity, I’m sorry," he said, voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For hurting you. For betraying you. I don’t have any excuse. I just…" He sighed. "I don’t even know what to say anymore."

I let him talk. I let him spill his regrets. And when he was finally done, I inhaled deeply.

"You don’t understand how much you hurt me, Creed," I finally said, my voice shaky but firm. I heard him swallow hard as I continued. "You made me believe I had nothing to worry about when it came to Gianna. You acted like she was your past. Like she didn’t matter." He didn’t say anything. "But the first chance you got? You fucked her in our home and in our bed." I whispered, my voice breaking.

"I know," he choked out. "I can’t change that, but, damn, I wish I could." I stayed silent. It was my turn to not have words for him. "Gio’s been asking about you," he said softly. My eyesburned. I missed that little boy more than words could explain. "Serenity…"

"We need space," I interrupted. He was quiet. "I love you, and I love Gio," I admitted. "But I think it’s best if we keep our distance. For now."

"What about the baby?"

I took a shaky breath. "My doctor says my risk of miscarriage is gone. But we still have a long way to go."

"I’m glad," he said. "I’m glad you’re having my baby."

I hesitated. Then, before I could stop myself— "I almost didn’t."

Again the line went silent. Dead silent.

"What?"

"I almost had an abortion," I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I thought about it, seriously thought about it in the days and weeks after everything went down.”

I heard him inhale sharply. I could picture him now—jaw tight, eyes filled with emotion. "But you didn’t," he said finally.

"No, I didn’t. Because at the end of the day, I want my baby and despite everything that happened, he or she was made from love. I loved you so much."

There was a short pause as if he were trying to process my words before he spoke.

"Loved?" he said softly. I didn’t dignify him with a response. We both knew I didn’t mean it in past tense. I was still very much in love with him. It’s why I was keeping our baby, it’s why I had even taken his call in the first place. "Thank you for not killing my baby."

Tears slipped down my face. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back.

"I meant what I said, Creed," I murmured. "We need distance. The only thing we should be talking about is this baby."

"So, you’re really not gonna take the year off?" he asked.

I almost laughed. "Absolutely the fuck not."

He let out a deep breath. I was ready for him to press the issue, but no matter what; I was not taking time off school. There was nothing he could say to convince me to do so.