Pregnant with My Uncle's Baby

Chapter 2 Tolerance

"I've been working my ass off all day. I didn't come home to deal with your attitude."

Even now, he was still lying through his teeth. He'd been glued to Vivian all day, window-shopping, stuffing their faces, splurging on crap, yet he had the nerve to spin lies just to twist the knife deeper.

This time, I didn't grovel with apologies like some scared puppy. Instead, I locked eyes with him, my nails digging bloody crescents into my palms as my voice quivered with barely contained fury. "Don't you owe me an explanation?"

A thunderclap shook the walls before I'd even finished speaking. Ethan's face went rigid, my words vanishing into the storm. "She's terrified of thunder," he whispered.

Then he was gone, striding toward the door without a backward glance.

The coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth. I lunged after him barefoot just as another lightning bolt cracked through the night. My scream tore through the apartment as I collapsed, my knees hitting the hardwood hard enough to bruise. Through the haze of tears, I watched his silhouette disappear into the rain.

He'd forgotten. The girl who used to crawl into his bed during storms still existed.

Fine. If this was how little I meant to him, I'd be damned before begging for scraps. When the tremors subsided, I started throwing clothes into a suitcase. Then my phone lit up, anonymous messages pouring in: Nora, ever heard of dignity? Chasing your uncle's tail is next-level pathetic. I've got every contact in your phone. Back off Ethan unless you want the world to know what a homewrecking skank you are. Some things just aren't yours to take, sweetheart.

The screen blurred as my hands shook with rage. I fired back with texts faster than lightning: Look who's talking, you runaway b***h! You ditched him first. What gives you the right to slither back into his life now?

Silence. The sudden cease of notifications felt louder than the storm. I stared at the phone until my breathing steadied, exhaustion finally pulling me under.

The door exploded inward less than an hour later. Ethan loomed in the wreckage, his face darker than the storm clouds. Before I could blink, his palm connected with my cheek, the impact snapping my head sideways with a sickening smack.

I hit the floor hard, my vision swimming. His fingers dug into my shoulders like talons. "Grow the hell up! Vivian's battling depression—are you trying to drive her to suicide?" he asked, his voice cracking with something almost like panic.

A dull throb pulsed below my ribs. Shoving the pain down, I thrust my phone at him. "She started this! Read for yourself."

He batted it away like a fly. "Jesus Christ, can't you just suck it up for once?"

The words ripped open an old wound. Suddenly I was nine again, curled on the bathroom tiles while my father's mistress loomed over me in her designer heels. "Stop crying," Dad had sighed, "just endure it." Until Ethan kicked the door in and made her scream like she'd made me scream.

The family elders cut off his allowance for three months as punishment, but he didn't regret it one bit. Instead, he told me fiercely, "Nora, promise me, never take crap from anyone."

The Ethan I knew at eighteen had taught me to fight back. Now at twenty-eight, he was breaking that promise himself.

Ethan's eyes wavered for just a second when he saw my tear-streaked face. Then he dragged me up roughly by the arm.

"You're apologizing to Vivian," he said.

"Like hell I will!"

I fought against his steel grip, but he might as well have been made of iron. When he shoved me into the car, the cramping in my stomach turned knife-sharp.

Blind to my pain, he said calmly, pissing me off even more, "Vivian's a good person. It's all a big misunderstanding. You might even become friends after talking it out."

My vision blurred, my chest squeezing so tight I couldn't breathe.

Friends? He knew damn well how much I hated homewrecking bitches, especially since Vivian was best friends with my father's bastard daughter, Chloe Bennett.

Those two had made my life hell, slapping me around and yanking my hair to shove my head into toilets.

Not satisfied, they'd barged into our home and sent my mom into cardiac arrest.

She spent three days fighting for her life in the ICU.