The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Two weeks of nightmare life, all down to me, my moods and erratic behavior that has tested every single ounce of Arricks patience. I think he’s literally seen every bad version of me there is and then some, and I can’t help it.

The idea that I am pregnant has well and truly sunk in, but I don’t love it any more than I did and feel a huge sense of resentment that I have to stay here while he flies home today to do whatever he needs to do. In the end Jake couldn’t sway his father to change the plans as he is digging his heels in. I think he is punishing Arrick over leaving the company and using his last weeks as a weapon to piss him off.

We haven’t told anyone except Jake and Emma about the baby yet, sworn them to the upmost secrecy and I wouldn’t even talk to her on the phone about it. I’m not ready for sweet cozy chats about motherhood. I don’t want all that happiness and congratulations aimed at me when all I can think about is how shitty this is.

I tried to raise a conversation about our other options with him a few days after those tests and we had a nuclear fight that pretty much told me that adoption, termination or any other avenue, is a no go. He’s set on his decision to have this kid and it’s like my input doesn’t matter at all. Needless to say, we haven’t really stopped fighting since, and the atmosphere has been icy to say the least.

Arrick dragged me to a prenatal appointment with some French doctor and basically, he agreed I can’t fly until I’m passed twelve weeks. They booked me for a sonogram when they think I’ll hit eight weeks to properly date the conception. I hated it, the whole time, sitting staring at the guy like he had two heads and any time Arry touched me I pushed him away. I was forced to be there and all of this, ever since has felt like he is pressuring me. All they did was talk over me like I didn’t matter and made plans or agreements in French that I didn’t understand.

I want to pretend it doesn’t exist for a little while longer and not face that harsh reality just yet. My options are simple; have Arricks baby and like it, OR, have Arricks baby and deal with it. Pretty much the only two options he will even listen to and anything else results in us yelling at one another. I think he has slept on the couch more times in two weeks than two whole years together. There is no come and go with him on this.

Who said having babies brought couples closer together?

All it has done is put us back to the huge distance we had started to suffer from and then some. We even went two whole days in the same apartment without directly talking to one another. Janetta acted as go between until even she got fed up, threw her hands up and gave us a lecture on growing up and getting over it.

Boy does that sound really simple!

Arrick is avoiding conversation as much as he can today, sulking or whatever. Not that I care as it fuels a fight whenever he does talk to me at all.

I hate the fact he is leaving me to go home. I hate that I’m stuck here and he’s swanning off for four days back to the life I was supposed to be having once more. I should be in New York right now, curled up with him on the couch and having ourselves a normal existence, pre-Paris happy. Instead we are angry, at war and he hasn’t laid a finger on me in almost a fortnight. Not that I want him to. He can go fuck himself for all I care.

I should be going too, to start our life back in New York, not stuck here with not even school to occupy me anymore. I’m going out of my mind with boredom and the fact all I can obsess over is how unhappy and ruined my life is. I can’t even muster the will to spend time in my sewing room, or even look at the dresses he brought back for me from my show, like it’s all pointless now.

My papers and certificate arrived last week and all I felt was disappointment, because my future is uncertain. Nothing is going to plan. The fashion world is fast moving and unforgivable and me missing any time will have resounding effects.

I should be at a graduation ceremony for this term end, not a huge affair but a mark of achievement and instead, I’m watching my boyfriend pack his suitcase to run off to the city and his sexy PA for four days, while I eat my weight in ice cream.

How did we get to this point so fast?

Arrick eyes me warily as he walks to the drawer to grab some underwear and I can tell he really wants to say something but is watching what comes out of his mouth.

full blown tantrum, ‘don’t go and leave me’ mode. Sulking because he is still going anyway. Hating him because we cannot seem to be civil to one another at all. The tension and atmosphere in this apartment has been hell on earth and even Janetta has been absent more and more. She can’t stand having to walk on eggshells around us and I

call you every morning when I get up and you

Don’t go.

one another for a few days.” I sigh and focus on the bed to pick at imaginary fluff. Pushing him away because he’s not helping fix my mental mess and I know I’m shoving him away with my behavior anyway. This constant anger inside of me has nowhere else to go except at him. I don’t even know why I’m angry anymore but there is nothing I can do about it. Maybe

the bed beside me. I look away, but he brings

get me to look at him and it’s only with his touch I realize how much it’s been missing. It feels like months since we

cry, breaking the tension that’s been building up inside

is missing. I

a little of my dumb

thing is dumb, it’s just, walking in that day opened a whole can of insecurity that I can’t lay to rest while we are so

that this is the first real intimacy we have had in two weeks and it’s because he is leaving me. I should be giving him a reason

say not to.” I loop my fingers into the spaces between his shirt button and pull him close, rubbing my face against the cotton, against him and burying myself in how good

kisses me on the forehead again and moves

I sound whiny and young and he has to slide my hands out of his

and gets up, moving away so he can get his case up on the bed to put a last few items in. It makes me

go.” I cry out impulsively, so caught up in feeling sorry for myself and resorting to the big guns that I never use.

overcoming me because I don’t want him to leave. Something deep

free of me, pushing my hands down and it makes me rage. This is not my gentle caring and understanding Arry who would drop everything to

at him, sheer wounded pride and being a dumb little girl. I have no right to be like this; he’s the one who has

your trying to emotionally blackmail me to stay?”

won’t let me leave here!” I snap and yell it at him. Anger bursting

spitting fire because he is obviously so sick

York AND back and it made no fucking difference, the only difference was that we didn’t know I was like this. I want to go

You won’t let me!

like we agreed.” He’s trying to curb his rage but barely

all fury and frustration meeting hysteria and hormones and Arrick stops dead. Clenches a fist in mid-air like he

He grits his teeth and I