Second Chance

A tear dried

Angelina slowly climbed off the bed and strolled over to the mirror to check out her belly. "I wonder how I’ll look when it gets bigger," she thought, playing with the bottom of her blouse.

She could vividly recall her high school days, especially those girls who had big bellies and parents with tear-filled eyes. She wondered, "How would they handle this mistake now?" She remembered promising herself she’d never be in the same situation.

Those girls, she often thought, would be a lesson to her.

As she skipped out of the room and down the hall, she couldn’t help but think about whether her sisters would still think she was pretty when they heard the news, or if her mom would still ruffle her hair playfully.

Just then, two guys walked by, followed closely by a man carrying a tray with two cocktails, keeping his cool the whole time.

She wondered why he wouldn't just move to the left a bit, so they wouldn't be an obstruction to him. One of the men suddenly turned and pulled down his glasses, his cheerless black eyes digging into hers.

"It's obvious, you're staring. Try to hide it better, " he snapped his fingers, bringing Angelina back to life. She cleaned her eyes, apologised several times and tried to leave, highly embarrassed.

The guy with the tray handed her a cocktail, whispering, “It’s free,” while motioning for her to take it. She hesitated, grabbed the cup slowly, and glanced over at the two sketchy-looking guys, curious about why he was giving it to her.

“Are cocktails complimentary now?” she asked, which made the guy chuckle a bit. “Not exactly, young lady. A gentleman asked me to give this to you," he said, subtly nodding towards the second guy in glasses who was just zoned out, staring at the wall.

“Uh… when? Because as far as I can tell, his eyes have been glued to that wall,” she replied. The guy just smiled and said, “No need to worry.”

The two men left in a hurry, but they had this smooth vibe about them, or maybe it was just the free cocktail clouding her judgment.

She examined the drink, wondering what it would taste like—whether it would be amazing or send her straight to paradise!

She strolled back to their room and did the only sensible thing: she poured the cocktail intoto an empty can and tossed it in the fridge. "I'll need this as proof when I tell Kourtney," she thought to herself, closing the fridge with a little hum.

She gazed out the window, feeling lazy and kind of bored, until she felt her phone buzzing in her left pocket, reminding her of the outside world. A small grin spread across her face when she saw who was calling, and her phone practically jumped to her ear.

“MUM! You haven’t called me in ages. Did you forget about me again?” she joked with a laugh. There was a pause on the other end before she heard a deep breath.

“This isn’t your mom; it’s Marcus—” and then the call dropped. Angelina tightened her grip on the phone, her expression going blank.

She called the number back, anger bubbling up inside her. She was furious, but she needed to understand why he had her mom’s phone. She couldn’t let her frustration lead her to do something rash.

The line went through and she put it on speaker, not wanting that voice of his ringing in her ear again.

"Angelina, please calm down, " he pleaded. She didn't cut him short, she let him say his thoughts and waited patiently for him to be done.

"Your mom came over to see you and I told her what happened. I told her the mistakes I made and how I regret them with every inch of my being" He fell silent, waiting for a response, but Angelina didn't say a word.

"Angel, are you listening?" He asked, and she smiled lightly. "Please give the phone back to the owner, that's all I want. Not your apology".

Marcus let out a deep sigh and passed his phone to the woman beside him, clearly worried. If he said anything else, he was sure Angelina would never forgive him.

Angelina's mom put the phone to her ear, trying to hold back her tears. "Told you to stay away from that Kourtney, right?" she said through sniffles, her voice shaky. "Now you two are stuck in some crummy hotel, one of you pregnant and the other one a widow!"

"Mom!" Angelina shouted, feeling the heat rising in her throat. "You can take shots at me all you want, but leave Kourtney out of this. What's her being a widow got to do with anything?" She clenched her jaw.

"Just bad luck," her mom shot back. "That girl’s got enough bad luck to go around; it's bound to rub off on you." Angelina rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath. She knew she had to keep her mouth shut to avoid saying something she might regret later.

"That's just not possible, Mom. If you're really looking for someone to blame, why not just talk to the zygote you gave your phone to?" Her voice was loud and clear, almost like a wake-up call.

"I gave him a black eye," she finally said. "I didn’t take it further because he wanted to say sorry to you and make things right, but I won't let you near him again. I shouldn't have taken it out on Kourtney; I was just trying to ease my heart," she admitted, her voice trembling as her tears had dried up.

Angelina gave a gentle smile, "I get it, Mom. It’s tough having a daughter who's a disappointment," she said while playing with her hair.

"Then you can't be my daughter, because the Angelina Smith Sylva I raised has always made me proud. Even now, when life’s throwing everything it can at her, she still makes me proud."

A tear trickled down Angelina's cheek.

She grabbed her coat and flung it over her shoulders, cleaning the tears before they overflowed. "I'll be right there, Mom, " she replied and cut the call, slipping into her shoes at the same time.

She grabbed the handle and exhaled, She would have never thought she'd be going back to that house so soon, but at least she wasn't going for Marcus.

She was going to the only person who came before Kourtney.