Not betad
Prompt: Test
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
"You don't strike me as a coward," I tell her.
"You haven't know me for very long. I've always taken the easy way out," she says with a frown.
"How does being here, or staying with us at the hospital, or going to your parents for the scholarship for Mad fit into your definition of taking the easy way out?" I ask with raised eyebrow.
"Point taken. I'm trying to do better, to do what's right instead of what's easy." She smiles slightly, squeezes my hand, and then lets go. "I grew up around people just like me: wealthy, spoiled, privileged, arrogant. We all thought we were better than everyone who wasn't like us, but we were constantly trying to prove it. We cared so much about appearances and who had the better clothes or shoes or who drove the nicest car." She shakes her head, a rueful smile on her face. "I'm not going to lie and say I never fit in or always thought there was a better way. But it was all I knew."
She looks at me as if pleading for me to understand. So I nod and wait for her to continue, hoping I'm giving her what she needs.
"People who worked in my house when I was growing up were just that; they worked and I didn't give them much thought after that. They were like background noise."
This isn't something I enjoy hearing, but by the look on her face she's not proud of it. Still, I shouldn't be surprised considering how she treated me my first few days working at her house. I tell her as much and she looks like she's about to cry.
"Hey, I'm sorry," I say, reaching out and taking her hand again.
"Don't be. You're right. You didn't deserve any of that and I have no excuse except being that way–standoffish and pretentious–is my default. But I'm trying to be better."
"There's nothing wrong with the way you are," I say. She snorts out a laugh and shakes her head. "I mean it. I prefer Bella, but Mrs. Martin comes in handy sometimes."
She knits her brow and puts her empty beer bottle on the coffee table.
"Another?" I ask.
"Please."
I get up and go to the fridge. "You're Bella when we're like this," I explain, "or when you're with Maddie. You're Mrs. Martin when you want hospital staff to do your bidding."
I sit down with two fresh beers and hand her one. "So I have split personality disorder?" she asks with a smile, adjusting herself so she's sitting cross-legged on the couch with her back against the armrest.
"Well, I'm betting on Bella being more dominant. I honestly don't think I could stomach Mrs. Martin except in small doses." I mirror her pose, except I keep my long legs stretched out.
"God," she whispers, "I hate that name so much."
"Then why do you have it?"
She takes a long drink from her beer. "Demetri wasn't always like this. He was a really good friend to me at one point in my life. Things just… deteriorated."
"How so?"
She breathes deeply and looks away from me. "Why is this so hard?"
"You don't have to."
"No, I do," she says firmly, looking back to me. "The thing is, being around the same type of people my whole life made him stand out that much more when I finally noticed him."
"Your husband?"
"No, Brady."
"Who's–"
She holds her hand up. "Sorry. I'm jumping all over the place. Brady was our gardener's son. I didn't look at him twice before the summer I was nineteen. He was twenty-two by then, and the most self-confident, engaging person I'd ever met. I was completely infatuated with him."
I raise my eyebrow but she just shrugs. "It's the truth. He honestly didn't care what anyone thought of him. He was his own person and the opposite of anyone I'd ever taken the time to get to know. He fascinated me.
"We kept our relationship a secret. I wasn't ready to test my parents by telling them and I still had two years of college left, so it seemed like I'd be stirring the pot for no reason. The truth is, I was just terrified about what their reaction would be to me dating someone who wasn't acceptable. So instead of standing up for something I felt strongly about, I hid it and snuck around."
"Where were you going? To school?"
"Oh, LIU. Right here in Brookville, so I was living at home after being away at boarding school. I was studying psychology. Everything was going fine until right after the start of the fall semester when I found out I was pregnant."
I sit there frozen, my beer bottle halfway to my mouth. I was not expecting this. Then again, the pieces that make up Bella are finally starting to fall into place.
I take a sip of my beer and watch her do the same. I try to keep my face as even as possible but I'm not sure I'm succeeding. Bella's hands are shaking and her eyes are welling with tears so I do the only thing I can. I take my beer bottle, then hers, put them on the coffee table, and pull her into my arms. She cries softly against my chest as I rub my hand up and down her back. I don't say anything; she'll tell me the rest when she's ready.
I kiss the top of her head and run my hands through her hair as she continues. "He wasn't happy when I told him about the baby," she says. I immediately see red but hold my tongue. I may not be an expert about relationships, but I'm sure my anger toward someone she once cared for is not what she needs right now. "He said we'd get married, so that's what I focused on. I thought he loved me and I could make him happy. I wasn't smart enough to realize you don't marry someone based on circumstance."
She's silent for a long time and I wonder if we're done for the night. When she speaks again her voice is barely above a whisper. "And then I told my parents."
She sits up and back against the armrest, running a hand over her face. "I guess I should have known better than to think everything would work out. People never really get the fairy tale, right?"
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