Page 139 of The Betrayal
“I'm okay,” I whisper, but he doesn't respond. We just sit in silence whilst we wait.
Ten stitches later and an awkward goodbye with Taylor and Dr Trent and we're back on our way to the labor ward.
“Fucking stitches,” Keaton curses himself and I know he will beat himself up. They even checked for concussion and pediatrics were called down to check the twins’ heartbeats. Both okay.
I want to fight against him, try and make him feel better, but it's pointless.
We walk hand in hand as we round the corner and towards Amora's room. I knock softly, letting myself in whilst Keaton hangs back in the hallway.
“Hey,” I squeak, Amora looks fed up.
“Hey,” she presses a smile against her lips, and I walk across to her. “How you doing?”
Stupid question, yes.
“I've been better,” she smirks, hands resting on her bump as she begins to pant. My dad is there holding her hand as she squeezes it and I'm glad it's taken his attention off of me with my stupid band aid on my head.
I am not looking forward to this. I want to opt out.
Royal approaches from the restroom with a damp washcloth and she glides so elegantly over to her daughter, placing it over her clammy head. Her red hair stuck to where she is sweating. The moment suddenly becomes too much when I grieve for a mother daughter moment I will never have.
I step back, backing out of the room just as Amora's contractions ease and that's when my dad's eyes lift and land on me, widening and I don't miss the thunderous scowl that marks his face.
“Don't tell me you had stitches.”
I nod, locking my fingers in front of my stomach.
He closes his eyes and inhales before breathing out his exhale nice and slow.
“Dad, I know you and Keaton have...” I pause for a moment, “issues.”
“They're more than issues Sunshine,” he half laughs, rubbing his hand over his stubble and my heart throbs.
“You need to get over it.” my tone is blunt, and I hate that I've said that.
“That will never happen,” he shakes his head from side to side.
“Then get over me,” my voice trembles, on the verge of tears and his mouth falls lax with the words that have just spilled from my lips.
“Ari...” he chokes.
“It's your choice dad.”
He stays silent and I give a sad, heavy nod. Turning I reach for the door handle when I hear my dad's footsteps, his hand reaching for my elbow and pulling me to face him.
“He isn't good enough for you,” his beautiful eyes bounce between mine and I feel the imaginary slap across my cheek, my heart plummeting.
“No, you're right,” and I see the confusion on my dad's face, “he is better.”
He is speechless and with that, I look over towards Amora and give her an apologetic smile. “I hope everything goes okay and I can't wait to meet my new little brother or sister,” and I mean that. I am beyond excited, but I can’t keep doing this.
“Tut Tut Tut,” Xavier whistles as he enters the room, eyes burning into dad and that's my cue to walk out the door and not look back.
Keaton stands as soon as I am in the hallway and I keep quiet, just walking past him and towards the exit of the hospital, him on my heels.
He keeps asking me what's wrong, but I can't tell him.
I can't tell him that my dad, his best friend, thinks he is no good for me. Keaton will agree but that's where he'll be wrong. They're both wrong. I meant what I said to my dad. Keaton is better. He makes me better. Wholly.