Underestimated (65 page)

and run away back to my mom’s.

I walked to the coffin with my hand in Drew’s. Mr.

Callaway looked good. I thought his face looked a little

sunken in, but overall he looked to be at peace.

“There aren’t many people here,” I whispered to

Drew, looking at the empty chairs.

“Mr. Callaway wasn’t the most liked man,” he

replied. I thought that it was sad, but could understand it. I

had seen how he talked down on Drew the few times that I

had seen them together. I looked around for Justin. I never

saw him. His parents must not have been too fond of him

either.

I almost felt like there should have been more said

at the funeral, but there really wasn’t. It was a simple

funeral with very few people. There wasn’t even a

graveside service per Mr. Callaway’s request.

Drew opened my door and held my wrist before I

could slide in. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I’m trying my best to

comprehend that my wife may be carrying another man’s

child,” he said. I could understand that. I touched his cheek

and smiled, letting him know that I understood.

“Can’t you pin point the time frame. I can’t stand

not knowing,” Drew said on the drive back to the house.

Fuck…

“No, Drew. I can’t do that. I was with you three

times in the two days that you were in Maine, and I was

with him three times the following day.”

Drew shook his head. He was angry again. I would

be too, I guess.

I looked down at my phone and saw that I had a

missed call from Dawson.

What the fuck? Neither of them had called the

whole time I was at my moms. Not once did either of them

call to see how I was, and now they both decide to pop

back into my life at the same time.

Drew sent Marta home as soon as we were back.

He went into his office and I followed, removing my

heels. I watched as he typed in the search.

“Can you have a paternity test while being

pregnant?”

“Drew, I’m not even a hundred percent sure that I

am pregnant,” I protested.

“You’re a week late, you have been sick for the

past two mornings, but feel better shortly after. You are

tired, and hungry. I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure you’re

pregnant.”

“There!” he said, excited.

You could have a paternity test while being

pregnant. I didn’t know that fact.

“Yeah, read the rest. The court system needs to be

involved before a physician will even do it. It’s not safe

for the baby,” I said pointing to the article that he was

reading.

“In rare cases,” he pointed out. “How far along do

you think you are? We have to do it before the 14th week.”

“Drew, will you stop.”

“No, Morgan. If we can do this, we are. I am not

spending the next nine months waiting to see if this is my

kid. I can’t. I will end up hating you over it. How far along

do you think you are?”

“Not very, six weeks maybe,” I answered. I wasn’t

doing this before the baby. It was right there in plain

English. There was a chance that it could harm the fetus.

Drew wasn’t listening to me. He was on the phone

calling his judge friend. The one that forced me to marry

him, I was sure. I listened while he explained the situation,

and of course the crooked judge agreed to sign whatever

he needed to have signed.

He called Judith Bishop next, the gynecologist that

used to come and give me my birth control shot every

three months.

“She’ll be here in about an hour,” Drew

exclaimed. I wanted to run away. He was going over my

head and doing whatever Drew wanted to do. It pissed me

off.

“Maybe, you could ask what I think before you go

making plans for me,” I stated with an angry tone.

“It doesn’t fucking matter what you think,” he said

just as angry. Okay, this was the Drew that I hated. This

was the Drew that disregarded my feelings. I was secretly

wishing that the baby turned out to be Dawson’s. Dawson

would never treat me this way.

I stormed out of his office, and up to my own room.

I wanted to call my mom, but I didn’t because I knew that

Drew had probably already turned his computer to my

room. He was more than likely watching me through the

cameras, and he could hear every word that I said.

I took my funeral clothes off and pulled on a

comfortable pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I lay across the

bed, staring up at the ceiling for probably twenty minutes

or so in the same position.

My cellphone rang, and after it had quit I text my

mother and told her that I would call her back. It rang

again a few minutes later. It was Dawson. I wanted to talk

to him. I wanted Dawson. I needed Dawson. I wasn’t sure

what to do. I knew, or I had a pretty good suspicion that

Drew would hear every word I said. He hadn’t called in

weeks if I ignored him he might think that I didn’t want to

talk to him. I did.

Fuck Drew…

“Hi,” I answered, sitting up and crossing my legs.

“Hey, beautiful,” he softly spoke. I closed my eyes

and took a deep breath at the sound of his voice. I missed

him. I wanted to be in his arms. And no, it wasn’t because

I was mad at Drew. I really missed him. I hadn’t heard

from him in almost a month.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Good, besides the fact that I miss you like crazy,”

he replied. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” I lied. I was never going to be okay.

Every time I thought I was making progress, life decided

to throw another curve ball.

“You don’t sound okay. Where are you?”

“Vegas.”

“Oh,” he said with a hurt tone.

“I just got here yesterday. Mr. Callaway passed

away, and I had to come here for the funeral. I’m leaving

tomorrow.” I hoped Drew heard that.

“Please tell me that you are coming home to me,”

he begged.

“I am coming there,” I said.

“But not home to me, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Are you any closer to deciding what you want

than you were before you left?”

I snorted. Fuck no, I wasn’t, and I had just gone

and made things ten times more complicated.

“I haven’t been doing what I left to do,” I told him

honestly. “I spent over a month at the beach with my mom

and my little sister,” I explained. I was happy that he

dropped it and didn’t try and pressure or badger me about

it. He asked about my mom, my sister, and I told him about

Jason. I talked to him for forty five minutes. It felt good. I

told him that I had to go when Drew knocked on the door

with Judith.

“I love you, Ry.”

“I love you too,” I said it. I didn’t care if Drew

was standing right in front of me. I didn’t even care about

the hurt look on his face. He deserved it.

“How are you, Morgan?” Judith asked.

“Fine,” I said with a bit of an attitude. I never did

like her, and if I was pregnant she was not being my

doctor.

“Do you think you can go to the bathroom?” she

asked, halting the nice act. She picked up on my defiance

right away.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Morgan,” Drew chastised.

I took the cup from Judith’s hand and stormed into

the bathroom, slamming the door a little harder than I

meant to.

I left the cup on the sink and walked out of the

bathroom, right past the both of them and downstairs to the

pool. I didn’t want to know the results. I knew that I was

pregnant, and I didn’t want Judith fucking Bishop to be the

one to tell me the fact that I already knew. Fuck both of

them. I wished I had my car. I wanted to leave. I didn’t

want to be there for one more second.

I sat on the side of the pool, swirling my feet

around the not so cool water. It was hot, very hot, but I

didn’t care. I didn’t want to be in that evil house full of

demons.

“What are you doing, Morgan?” Drew asked, in a

calmer voice from the door.

“Nothing,” I snapped.

“Come inside,” he politely requested.

“Why?”

“So we can talk,” he said with a little more

annoyance.

“So we can talk or so you can tell me what I am

doing?” I replied still sitting by the pool, not about to

budge. I spent six years of my life listening to this man tell

me when, where, how, what, and why, no not why, it was

never any of my business, why. I wasn’t about to bow

down to him.

“Please come in the house. It’s a hundred degrees

out here.”

I got up and walked past him and into the kitchen.

He followed. Marta was preparing our supper. I took a

bottle of water and sat at the island.

“Can you leave us, Marta?” He asked. She smiled

and walked out.

Drew straddled the stool beside me. “Look at me,”

he softy spoke.

I turned my head to his, but I didn’t look at him. I

looked past his right shoulder at one of the replaced, tiny

cameras that I had broken. What? Was he afraid someone

was going to steal his food?

Stupid idiot. Stupid fucking idiot…

“Don’t you want to know what the results are?”

I did look into his eyes with that, dead on with my

cold, despicable glare. “I already know what they are.”

“She can do the paternity test, and she can do the

abortion if it turns out to be his.”

Damnit, what the hell did I do with that gun?...

“One, Judith is not doing shit with any test. Two,

Judith is not touching me. I will find my own physician,

and three. What would ever give you the idea that I would

even consider an abortion?”

“I knew you would say every bit of what you just

said,” he admitted.

“Then, why would you even suggest any of it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Wishful thinking, I

guess. What do you want, Morgan?”

“Not you,” I assured him. He snickered.

“You want to run back to your boring little life in

Maine, back to your safe little sheriff.” He replied with a

tone. It wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement.

“Boring? Let me explain to you what boring is.

Boring is being trapped in this house for six, very long

years. Boring is being allowed to leave the house escorted

to go to one place and check out one book. Boring is being

locked in a room with nothing in it for days, boring is…”

“Stop, Morgan. You want to leave? I’m not forcing

you to stay. You’re free to go whenever you want.”

“Fine. I want to go now,” I demanded.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, I knew he

wanted me to say back to my mom’s. I kind of wanted to

go there too, but I was pissed. My only goal in life at that

moment was to hurt him.

“Maine,” I spouted off with one word.

He took his cellphone from his pocket.

“I need the plane ready in an hour,” he said in the

phone glaring at me.

Fuck…

I didn’t want to leave like that. I knew that he was

trying to do what he thought was best. Hurting me wasn’t

his intention, but damnit, he couldn’t just tell me what I

was doing anymore. I felt like a real shit. I felt even worse

when he kissed my lips softly and whispered that he loved

me before he turned and walked away. Could somebody

please explain how this got turned around? I wasn’t the

bitch here, was I?

I was just getting ready to go to him when Marta

let Celeste in, Celeste in her long legs, short pencil skirt,

and beautiful flowing blonde hair.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Kelley,” she smiled,

carrying an arm full of folders.

“Hello,” I smiled back as she made her way to

Drew’s office.

I went upstairs and packed the clothes that I had

taken to North Carolina with me. I didn’t really need two

thousand dollar dresses in Maine.

I walked past Drew’s closed office door. I

couldn’t believe that he was going to let me go without a

word. He never came out.

My face instantly turned red when I opened the

door to Gary. The same Gary that the last time I saw, my

legs were wrapped around Drew’s waist in the back of the

plane.

He took my bag and said goodbye to Marta. Drew

was really letting me leave without one word.

I was happy when we landed that Drew had

already arranged for me to have a ride. I really didn’t

want to call Dawson, and it was getting pretty late. I knew

that Lauren would be in bed already.

I smiled when I got out of the car at my mowed