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Consoling gone wrong

“You are not sorry” I said, hands on her hips and I know I looked like tea mug.

“I swear I am” He replied, relaxed on the couch playing with an empty bottle of vodka.

“No, you're not.” He's too relaxed to be sorry and this wouldn't have happened if we didn't have sex.

I rubbed my hand over my neck. Sighing Was it the hormones? I feel more angry than I should be.

I'm pregnant and nothing's going to change it, so was there really any need for me to burst the moment he asked if I was hungry.

“What do you want me to say? That I didn't mean to fuck you? I meant to, and I even will if you weren't pregnant”

“Can you stop saying that word? You look like you're enjoying this”

“I'm not” He replied and slowly got up. “I'm just happy you are longer crying”

What am I going to do?

“What am I going to do?” I asked the that's has been running through my mind all night.

“Can you not worry. We'll think about it tomorrow” He gently pushed me into the bathroom.

Of course he'll say that. He's not the o
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