Oh, no.

Why does this keep on happening to me? I'm sick of it. She's toying with my emotions, playing with me like a doll. I take my arms off her, quietly getting out of bed. I look around the room, grabbing my boxers off the floor. I sigh and slip on my jeans and t-shirt, tripping over one of Hannah Marie's teddy bears. It reminds me of why I'm so angry. I could be the father. I guess in some sense, I've always known that. But the fact the she told Nick he was? It infuriates me. Infuriates me so much I apparently slept with her. Again. I look at her naked figure in the bed. She's beautiful, no doubt. Sara is the girl I always dreamed of, always wanted. But not like this. I can barely remember last night. I remember I drove her home, Nick and Hannah Marie had taken the car. I remember we stopped outside her apartment, and I went inside with her. I remember being angry. I don't remember ending up in her bed. I can't stop a few leaky tears from falling down my face. I wipe them away. Once I'm completely dressed, I grab a pen and loose post-it from her dresser.

Sara,

We need to stop this. I have feelings. You can't keep playing with me. It's not fair to either of us. Apparently, trying to "work it out" doesn't help either. I just wake up in your bed. I'm done. I want you out of life. And as much as it hurts, Hannah Marie too. The only thing I want from you is a paternity test. So I can really, honestly, get you both out of my life. Forever.

Greg

And as much as it hurts, I leave the post-it on her mirror. I tell myself it's the right thing to do, but it's the hardest, most painful thing I've ever done