One hundred and seventeen

He doesn’t regret it. But he feels bad. What does that mean? I race down the stairs as fast as I can, my car keys dangling in my hand. Hopefully, I look sane with the way I hurriedly dressed and left. I need to talk to Clarissa but about what? Do I want to tell her what Brandon said? What if she calls the police on him? Will she do that? She won’t.

All these questions yet no answers. I miss a step and reach blindly for the bannister but my hand slices through thin air. A scream tears through my lips, my hands go around my stomach to protect my baby as I slide down the stairs and onto the marble floor.

Tears cloud my vision, a sharp pain shoots from my stomach to all parts of my body when I try to sit up so I lay back on the floor while propping myself up on an elbow. As much as I want to, I can’t lie down, it’s not good for the baby but my body needs me to relax. One of my legs hang from the stairs, I whimper in the process of trying to lift it.