Novels by Goeey

His fingers dug into my arm. Nails dug in. Blood trickled down my forearm in slow drops. I pulled back. His grip tightened. Bones in my wrist ground together. Sharp pain shot up my arm and into my shoulder. I twisted my body but he held on. “Whose is it.” He shook me. My teeth slammed together hard. Pain flared in my jaw and spread to my temples. My head rattled. “Tell me.” “I don’t—” The words came out choked. Blood and spit mixed in my mouth. I swallowed it down. It burned my throat. “It’s not what you think.” “Then what is it.” He yanked me closer. His breath hit my face hot and sour. “You’ve been sneaking around for months. Late nights. Secret calls. Pregnant. Cash in your bag. You think I’m stupid.” “No.” My voice shook. My arm throbbed where his fingers pressed. He shoved me. I hit the counter. The edge dug into my spine. Pain flared up my back and down my legs. My legs shook. I grabbed the counter to stay upright. The edge pressed harder into my back. “I gave you everythi

I opened my eyes to the gray morning light and the nausea was already there waiting for me. I pressed my palm against my stomach and breathed through it while Shane slept beside me with his back turned and the sheets twisted around his legs. The clock on the nightstand said it was late. He should have left for his meeting an hour ago. He didn't move when I slid out of bed, and he didn't move when I walked to the bathroom and closed the door. I brushed my teeth and the mint taste made my stomach heave and I gripped the sink until it passed. When I came out he was sitting up in bed with his phone in his hand, and his eyes followed me across the room without blinking. "You're still here," I said. "No meeting today. Got canceled." He set the phone down and stretched his arms over his head. "Figured I'd stay home for once." He never stayed home. I pulled on my clothes while his eyes tracked every movement, and the weight of his stare made my skin prickle. At breakfast he watched me

The glass slipped from Shane's hand and shattered against the kitchen tile. The sound was sharp and sudden, and I flinched before I could stop myself. "Clean that up," he said without looking at me. I grabbed the broom and dustpan from under the sink and knelt down to sweep the shards into a pile. The pieces were sharp, and one of them caught the edge of my finger. A thin line of blood welled up, and I wiped it on my pants and kept sweeping. My head was down, my eyes on the floor, and I was just trying to finish so I could sit down before the nausea rolled through me again. He moved somewhere behind me. I heard a soft sound, like paper crinkling. Then his footsteps crossed the kitchen, and he was at the door. "Finish cleaning," he said, and his voice was calm. "I'm going out." He grabbed his jacket from the hook and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him, and I knelt there in the silence with the dustpan full of glass and my finger stinging from the cut. I finished swe

I woke before the alarm and the first thing I felt was the nausea and the second thing was the weight of the test box under the mattress pressing up through the springs. Shane was still asleep beside me with his arm thrown over his head and his breathing heavy and even. I slid out of bed without making a sound and my feet were cold against the floor. The bathroom door closed with a soft click and I locked it. The test box was in my hand and I opened it with fingers that felt disconnected from my body. Remove the cap. Hold the tip in the stream. Wait two minutes. I had read the instructions so many times they were burned into the back of my eyelids but I read them again anyway because I needed something to focus on that wasn't the shaking in my hands. I took the test and set it on the edge of the sink with the cap replaced and the waiting began. Two minutes. The bathroom tiles were cold under my feet and I counted the seconds in my head and the numbers kept slipping away from me. The

I pulled the test box from under the mattress the next morning and sat on the edge of the bed with the cardboard cool against my palms. Shane had left an hour ago to meet another contact, and the apartment was quiet except for the neighbor's television bleeding through the wall. The instructions were printed in three languages. I read the English section twice because the words kept blurring. Remove the cap. Hold the tip in the stream for five seconds. Wait two minutes. One line meant not pregnant. Two lines meant pregnant. The steps were simple, and the simplicity made my chest tight. I folded the instructions and slid them back into the box and pushed the box under the mattress. My hands were steady, but my breath was shallow. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. 'Lena here. Marcus gave me your number. Hope that's not weird. Just wanted to say the office is boring without you and Carla snapped at Derek twice today so your absence is being felt. Come back soon.' – Lena I typed back

The week started off. I woke up later than usual, the sun already bright through the window, and for a long moment I just lay there staring at the ceiling while the quiet stretched around me. Shane had left early for some meeting with a contact he swore would finally come through. I had the apartment to myself, and the silence felt like something I could almost hold in my hands, my phone buzzed. And buzzed again. And kept buzzing. I reached for it and saw seven messages stacked on the screen, all from Shane, all sent within the last ten minutes. 'You didn't iron my blue shirt.' – Shane 'I told you I needed it for today.' – Shane 'Now I have to wear something else.' – Shane 'You don't listen.' – Shane 'You never listen.' – Shane 'I have to do everything myself.' – Shane 'Don't bother cooking dinner. I'll eat out. Since you can't do anything right.' – Shane I stared at the screen and felt the familiar heat crawl up my spine. His blue shirt. The one he hadn't mentioned in weeks.