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since I stood in front of my forever.

Jake and I stayed at his parent’s house over the weekend. Now we're here, at the cemetery. Red Tulips in hand for Mom’s birthday tomorrow. Jake got them. I don't know how he knew, or how he remembered it was Mom’s birthday, but he did, and it's one of the reasons I love him, so much more than a lot.

We walk hand in hand toward their headstones.

There's a lone figure standing by them, dressed in black, sunglasses on, looking down.

I don't recognize her from this far, but I'm not really in the mood to be sharing the space with anyone, so we wait.

When she turns around, I see her. But it's not really her, it’s like a shadow of who she was once. Her long blond hair now a shade of straw, cut to a bob just below her chin. She's lost weight everywhere but her belly, because her belly is huge, pregnant huge, about to give birth pregnant huge.

I squeeze Jake's hand in mine and he looks down at me.

That beautifully handsome, manly, rugged face. Those blue eyes, so intense.

"It's Megan.” I say, nodding my head in her direction.

He nods once in understanding. "I'll be in the truck.” He kisses my temple and walks away.

As I walk to her, she must sense me coming because she looks up at me, then straight back down. I think maybe she wants to leave, but she doesn't know if she should, so she waits, because either way, I know she was here, which has to mean something. Right?

I stand next to her, not looking at her, her not looking at me. We stare at the headstones.

"You’re pregnant?" I ask, because I feel like we should be talking if were going to stand here.

"Yeah,” she whispers. Her voice is hoarse, like she's been crying, or she's taken up smoking 2 packs a day.

"Where's the dad?"

"Don't know.”

"He bailed on you, huh?"

"No, Mick, I mean I don't know who the dad is.”

I clear my throat.

"What are you doing here?"

I still don't look at her.

She stares straight ahead.

"The adoptive parents live in town. I'm here until I have the baby, then I'm gone."

It's silent for a moment.

"I meant, what are you doing here at the cemetery."

"Oh,” she says quietly. "I can go." She turns to leave.

"Where were you, Megan?" I say louder, because I need to know why my best fucking friend in the whole world never bothered to contact me in the entire year my family’s been dead.

“It's been a year, where the fuck have you been?"

"I didn't think you wanted to see me."

"Shit, Megan. This shit, what happened here," I wave my hands to the headstones, "it was bigger than you and I, it was bigger than high school drama, and you cheating with James. My family were murdered and I needed my best friend. Where the fuck were you?"

I'm angry now and my words show it. I spit out each one so she knows that I'm so fricken mad at her. Tears are starting to fall down my cheeks and I don't bother to wipe them.

"I couldn’t,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it.

"You couldn't? What the hell does that mean?"

“It means, I couldn't face you, Mick. I just couldn't."

"WHY?" I yell out. I don't care about hiding my feelings anymore.

"Because Mick…” Then she breaks down into a sob and falls to her knees, pregnant belly and all.

I stay standing… and I wait.

"Because…" she continues. “Because it's my fault they’re dead."

My eyes dart to hers and my breathing accelerates.

"What does that mean, Megan?" I say through clenched teeth.

"It means I called him, I told him to do it. Chris - Christopher, I called him that night and I asked him to steal that necklace James gave you for your 18th birthday."

"What?" I can't possibly believe this shit.

"He wasn't supposed to kill them. No one was supposed to be home. I told him not to hurt anybody. Fuck Mick, you have to believe me. He wasn't supposed to hurt anybody."

I stare straight ahead, tears falling fast, my fists are balled. So many fucking questions and emotions running through my mind. I don't know what to say, what to ask. I want to kill her.

"I fooled around with him a few times, Chris I mean, I knew he would do it for me. I just… when you caught us at the restaurant, and he told you he loved you… he just discarded me like a piece of trash. He didn’t even care how I felt. I'm sorry, Mick, for all of it, for James. Fuck, I fell in love with him. I was in love with him and he didn't even care, and I was so fucking angry. I saw him first, that day we met him. You remember? He was what I wanted. You didn't even want a boyfriend and you got the best one. You didn't even want him. I did."

She says this like were 14 fucking years old. I'm so consumed with anger, and hurt and every other fucking emotion that I can't see straight. I have to keep my eyes closed so I can keep my breathing calm.

I think of Jake.

"I went home after that, after you caught us. I was expecting James to come after me but he didn't. He didn’t even call me to see if I was okay. Nothing. And then I see you," she says, and her tone is almost angry. Like she has the right to be upset. "I see you doing that shit to James' truck, and you’re laughing and smiling and you have these people that I've never fucking seen before laughing with you and helping you through your pain. They don't even know you, and already they like you. And then you're in fucking Jake Andrews’ arms…”

I speak up, because this has nothing to do with Jake and she shouldn't even be breathing his

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