A/N: This chapter is from Paul's point of view, so expect a lot of swear words and vulgarity from this chapter and minor sex scenes. Also, Kate is an OC that has nothing to do with the Denali clan, but you can imagine that's her if you want, she just won't be described as such.

I was pounding into Kate's pussy while she moaned so loud anybody within a ten-mile radius would know she was getting fucked and she was getting fucked well. Like I told her yesterday, she'd be back and like clockwork, she was at my doorstep by noon yelling at me like she was my girlfriend or something. Yelling easily turned into sex and now here we were, fucking in my favorite position with her face shoved down into the sheets with her ass high into the air. She has a great ass, one of the many reasons I hadn't let her go yet. I knew I should stop leading her to believe we might be something more, but she was always down to fuck no matter what I did to her. Whenever I was having a dry spell I could always count on her to come over and suck my dick, didn't matter if I hadn't called her two months, insulted her and her entire family, she'd always come running, I bet I could even hit her and she's still come back like a bitch in heat. Girls like that are hard to find and I wasn't quite ready to let go of it yet.

Her pussy was getting tighter and tighter around my dick and I knew she was gonna cum soon. I could feel my balls clenching too letting me know I should hurry this up. I reach under her and rub her clit and within seconds she's cumming all over my cock. It feels so good I almost follow along with her, but then the girl from yesterday creeps into my mind. I immediately pull out and cum with a startling jolt.

When my mind clears from the fog I find Kate looking back at me with disbelief across her face. In all honesty, I don't know why I pulled out. I was wearing a rubber and I'm pretty sure she's been on birth control since she was thirteen, but it just felt like what I needed to do.

She moves to lie on her side. "Well, that was weird."

"Well, you can never be too careful," I say and she snorts in response.

"Since when do you care about being careful?" she asks incredulously.

"Since always—why do you think I wrap my dick every time we fuck?"

"Because then I wouldn't fuck you." It was my turn to snort.

"If you say so."

"I do say so. I don't know everywhere you've been, god knows what kind of skanks you've been stickin' it in. I don't want to catch anything."

"Hey kettle—I'm pot and you're black." She sits up in the bed offended.

"Excuse me, you fuck way more people than I do and at least I remember their names."

"I remember names. I just don't find a need for them."

"Really? Then what's the name of the girl who came over yesterday?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

I search my mind for it and nothing comes up. I think it started with an A, but I can't really be sure. Kate starts to look impatient and I know if I don't say something quick she'll think she's won so I blurt out, "Annie," before she can call me out on it. I mean how the fuck would she know her name, she's from Forks.

"Wrong," she says condescendingly.

"How would you know?"

"Because I've seen her before outside the church—she's Reverend Weber's daughter."

"And what were you doing anywhere near a church? I'm surprised you didn't get smited," I say chuckling.

"Haha and no. My mom was on this religious kick, let me tell ya, first and last time ever going to church. The women looked at us so judgmental and shit, like they were so much better than us and the reverend's wife tried to get me baptized and when I said no, she went all holier than thou on me and was stuck listening to her spiel about god for ten minutes until her kids interrupted us. My mom and I both had had it by then end of that afternoon and we never came back again."

"Sounds terrible." I honestly didn't know what else to say or really care, but I knew if I stayed silent she'd yell at me for not listening and I didn't feel like dealing with that shit until necessary. "But that still doesn't explain why you know her name."

"Well, she was my saving grace, so to speak. When she came over with her rowdy little brothers and I overheard her name and the twins names before I got the fuck out of there."

"Fine if you're so sure Annie's not her name then what is it?" I don't know why I really cared—it's not like I'm going to see her again.

"Nope, you're going to have to figure that one out for yourself lover boy. I'm not helping you get in her pants." She rolls over on her side her head propped up by her elbow.

"How do you know I haven't already been in them?"

"Because I know girls like her—especially the goody two shoes kind—and they don't put out, least of all for guys like you." I could see she was trying to get under my skin, but little did she know.

"Wrong. I fucked her a couple of months ago." I look at her with a smug smile.

She looked at me with disbelieving eyes. "I call bullshit. There's no way you fucked the Reverend's daughter."

I got down in her face as I spoke. "Believe what you want baby, but pretty soon you'll be able to see that I fucked her."

Kate drew her eyebrows in confusion and then recognition drew in and she looked annoyed. She slapped me across the shoulder. "That's not funny Paul."

"It wasn't supposed to be," I say with no trace of humor in my voice.

"So you're telling me you knocked up the pastor's daughter. Out of all the slut's you fuck, she's the one that gets pregnant. I call bullshit again."

"Well, I guess you'll have to wait a few months and see."

"I guess I will."

I move away from her and pull on my boxers. I grab the only articles of clothing that are hers and throw them at her. "Get out of my house."

She huffs in outrage. "What, no round two?"

"No, now get dressed and get out." Her eyes narrow in my direction.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then I make you get out and you can walk home naked." She knows I'll do it.

"Ass," she says as she angrily gets up and put on her clothes. "Fuck you," is all she says as she slams my front door.

I plop down on the couch and flip the TV on, nothing but soaps are on—product of not being able to afford cable—but you make do with what you have, plus they actually not that bad once you get over the overacting and ridiculous plot. Like right now they were the middle of some kind of reveal; apparently, he was not the father, his brother was. It's pretty much like Jerry Springer with dramatic background music.

I laugh when they pan over to his face—he's got the fakest crying sad face I've seen—come on I've got better range them him. I laugh into the next commercials and then decide to turn that shit off because it brings up my own sting of rejection. I'm not really in the mood to invest in fictional people's problems when I've got ones of my own.

I know what I said to her was cruel, but I needed to make sure she didn't come back. I don't want a kid nor am I capable of taking care of one. She has to of been off her meds if she thought coming to me would do any good. But that's not what's got me questioning myself. I mean I should hate her, not only did she come to my home and drop a bomb on me without any warning, she forced me to actually clean—somewhat, I mostly just threw out the dishes with puke on them and ran the garbage disposal for the rest. I could still smell a tinge of vomit and it made it hard to forget her.

She said she didn't want anything from me—she rejected me without really even knowing anything about me and cut me off from my kid in the process—a kid I don't want, but that's not the point. I've been rejected plenty of times by plenty of women, but I always come back unscathed. So why does her rejecting me actually sting a little? I can feel my anger boiling over from this train of thought, so I grab my jacket and drive over to Sam and Leah's.

They live off a dirt road not too far from First Beach. It used to be just Sam's, but once Leah graduated she immediately moved in. They're getting married in the summer. I used to come over all the time when it was just Sam—it was my home away from home—a place I could stay when my house got too quiet for me, but now that Leah's there 24/7 and I have to witness their nauseatingly happy life I'm more distant. It's not that I don't like seeing Sam happy and it's not like I hate Leah—in fact, she's one of the coolest chicks I know—it's just that I don't like being reminded of what I will never have. It looks great and I wish I could have it sometimes, but I'm not built for it—I'm not built for that kind of love and I'm fine with that, I just don't like being reminded of my downfalls every second, I'm with them.

I pull up in their driveway and walk in the front door. Leah greets me with a smile from the kitchen. "Long time, no see and just in time for lunch. It's almost as if you planned it that way." She gives me a side-eyed look before she continues slicing the tomatoes.

"As much as I'd love that to be true, I actually just came to visit." I move to grab a chip from the bowl on the counter and she swats my hand away. "Hey!"

"Don't hey me, those are for me and Sam. Get your own chips from the cupboard." She says in a playful yet stern tone.

I go to the cupboard and grab the chips and eat them straight from the bag. Leah narrows her eyes at me, but I still continue eating. "So where's Sam? It's Sunday, I thought he had weekends off?"

She rolls her eyes at me and turns back to making the two sandwiches. I get a nice view of her ass in her yoga pants. "He does—they just needed him for a little bit of over time—he should be home any minute now." Just then we hear his truck pull into the driveway.

Moments later he walks in through the front with a toolbox in hand and a smile directed at Leah. He doesn't waste a moment getting to her and pulling her into a passionate kiss. I can't help but pull a disgusted face. As much as I love that they're happy, doesn't mean I want to be included in their intimate moments. He finally stops trying to maul her face and looks past her to me. "Hey Paul, I haven't seen you in a while."

"Been busy," I say before stuffing my face full of more chips.

He let's go of Leah and she finishes her task at hand. He walks up to me and yanks the chip bag out of my hands. "Get a paper towel." I roll my eyes at him, but do so anyways—I'm not here to start a fight, I just need my mind off of shit.

Once Sam has settled and Leah has finished preparing lunch for all of us we settle in the living room eating the sandwiches she made. Leah is the first to break the silence. "So, what's new with you? Still an asshole?" she bites into her sandwich smirking.

I just smile right back at her. "Nothing and always."

"Hmm. So what do we owe this visit to?" Sam chimes in.

"I can't just come visit my best friend—you just assume that I want something." I slightly outraged.

"Of course you can, it's just you don't—at least not lately," Sam says that last part a bit quiet.

"Well, I am." I stuff my mouth full of food. "Things just got boring at the cabin."

Leah snorts. "What? You could find some girl to entertain you?"

"Already did. We finished about an hour before I came here. I'd give ya details, but I know how much you hate it when I do." She glares at my gleaming smile.

"You're disgusting."

"You're a prude."

"Just because I don't like hearing about your sex life doesn't mean I'm a prude."

"Well, what is it about my sex life that disgusts you." That was all Leah needed to go off on her usual tirade about my life.

"Do you really need to ask me that? You've fucked god knows how many women—most probably carrying diseases—and don't even call any of these girls back. You're a player of the worst kind. I mean I'm pretty sure you deflowered a girl a couple of months ago. I'm sure that's an experience she was ready to forget."

Huh, how the hell does she know that?

"I just do." I guess I said that out loud. "That girl looked as innocent as they come and I'm pretty sure you ruined her—just like you did Emily." She speaks to me with such disdain over a girl she doesn't even know. This—this is why I don't come here often. She used to be fine with it, minus a few snide remarks here and there, but now she was always up my ass about it. I mean I get why—I shouldn't have screwed her cousin—but can't she just let it go, Emily has.

"First off: Emily's a big girl and I definitely didn't deflower her. Secondly: what's it to if I did or didn't deflower some girl? You don't even know her. And lastly: stop being a bitch about it and mind your own business. Shit happens, people deal with it and move on—you can't change the past. It's not your job—or anybody's—to keep me in line, so you can stop with the attitude now." She was furious. She got up from her place on the couch and almost lunged at me, but Sam caught her.

"Leah I think you need to calm down—and Paul? OUTSIDE!" his voice boomed with authority. I got up with my plate and went out the back door. I sat on the porch steps and ate in stoic silence. I could hear some of their argument through the door.

"Why do you always stand up for him?" Leah shouts.

"Because he's my best friend, Leah," Sam shouts back at her.

"So? Does that just give him a free pass to be a dick?"

"No, but that doesn't mean I just write him off especially when I know what he's been through."

"See there you go again."

"Leah, I'm not trying to justify his behavior. I just want you to understand that he has a place in my life, it's permanent. You don't see me asking you to drop Emily especially after that shit she tried to pull." He speaks a bit softer and I almost don't hear him.

"I get that—it's just—I feel like I'm betraying her and all women kind when I just watch what he does with no regard for others feelings. I feel like a hypocrite." She starts to whine a bit.

"Well you're not betraying anyone and plus—most of these women know what they're getting into when they're with him. They play their part in it too."

"Really? You think that girl a couple months ago at the bonfire knew what she was getting into."

"To an extent—yes. She may have been more naïve that his usual flavor of the week, but it's not like he forced her to do anything."

Listening to them talk about me like that—about her like that—makes me a little angrier than usual. They don't know shit about me and here they are judging. I'm about to get up and leave when Sam stops me. "Hey!"

"What?" I snap back at him.

"You were out of line in there." He scolds me like I'm a fucking child.

"Yeah, well so was she, so I guess we're even."

"Two wrongs don't make a right and you need to check how you speak to my fiancé." I can hear the anger in his voice, he's always protective when it comes to Leah.

"Well, it's not like she can't take it. She gives as good as she gets—she doesn't need you to play savior for her."

"Doesn't mean I won't."

"Of course, Sam. Are we done here because I was thinking I would just head back home."

"No, we aren't done here. Why'd you come over and don't say because you were bored. I can tell when you have something on your mind."

"Don't worry about it—I'll figure it out on my own." I start walking around the front to my car.

"I'll be here when you're ready to talk," he shouts as I walk away.

"I know," I say quietly to myself before I get in my car and drive aimlessly around La Push.

A few days pass and I haven't seen Kate or really any girl for that matter. Every time I go in for the kill, say the parting line that'll make the panties drop—her angry little face pops into my head and I stop myself from going any further. I don't get it, she doesn't matter, her kid doesn't matter and yet she keeps leaking into my life.

It's making me antsy and not just because I haven't fucked anyone in a few days—just something felt off. I was trying to forget her and I was trying to forget her predicament, but every time I tried I remembered her and got angry. Who was she to judge me? To decided I wasn't good enough for my own child? No one asked you. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Why come to my door if she didn't want something from me? Why do I want her to want something from me? It's not like I have anything to offer.

Apparently, while I was torturing myself with unanswerable questions I didn't hear my dad pull up in the driveway. He startles me when he busts through the front door.

He's got his hand over his eyes and shouts, "I'M HOME!" in his deep octave voice. I roll my eyes because I know exactly why he's being so loud.

"I'm right here and alone," I say irritated.

"Oh good, come help me unload the truck," he demands.

I groan in annoyance as I get up off the couch and help him get whatever he borrowed from his latest job. He had a habit of taking things that weren't his, but luckily most of it wasn't missed. It was usually stupid little things from the main office like clipboards and pens that we have no use for, but one time he took a whole computer and almost got fired. I don't know how, but he figured out a way to take it back and not be implicated so apparently he wasn't as stupid as he looked. This time he just brought back some scrap wood some of which would need to be chopped into smaller pieces to fit in the fireplace—the only use it has—but I'm not too worried about it since it's the middle of May. They probably actually gave him this since he's a logger.

Once the truck bed is empty and we've thrown the wood with the others underneath a tarp I head to my room to get dressed. I don't know where I plan on going I just know I don't feel like staying here with my dad besides, it's not like my presence will add anything—he's probably just going to shower and hit the hay, but I'm leaving in case decides to have one of his impromptu talks that I am definitely not in the mood for.

Once I'm dressed I search my room for my keys. I have a designated spot for them, but it's useless when you don't remember to use it. I eventually do find my keys in the middle of my bed blankets and I leave my room.

Just like I thought—he's in the shower and will probably hit the hay after. I slip out if the cabin without any notice. Living with him is a lot like living with a roommate just one you're related to. I get in my car and once again I'm aimlessly driving until I find myself at the Rivers Edge, a local restaurant. Coffee couldn't hurt.

I walk in and walk right past the hostess and seat myself in a booth. I'm not sitting down long before a waitress is sitting a cup of coffee in front of me when I look up to thank the waitress I see that it's Leah. I didn't know she'd be working today. "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

She rolls her eyes at me, "Ha ha, the fifties called, they want their pick up line back."

"Well too bad, it's mine now."

"Ugh, is there anything else I can get you?" Leah says exasperatedly.

"That depends, whatcha offering?" I eyes her up and down.

"Food jackass and, no, you can't eat it off me."

"A man can dream." I wink at her.

"I'm going now." Leah walks off but not before I get a nice look at her ass. She may be a bitch but she was still hot.

I turn to the drink in front of me and pick it up taking a big gulp. I wouldn't be surprised if Leah mixed her spit in it, but I didn't care—worse has definitely been in my mouth. I take in my surroundings and try to focus on the other customers before my mind starts wandering again. It's not very busy at all which isn't surprising on a weekday at 8:00 pm. There's the usual's that sit at the counter a few new faces, but mostly everyone here was familiar. It was kind of quiet which didn't bode well for me—there wasn't enough distraction to keep me from thinking of her.

I didn't get it—she wasn't all that great in the sack, definitely not the worst, but I'd had better. She was very inexperienced and it showed in the way she let me take over but, again, I wasn't complaining it. She also wasn't the first to come to with a pregnancy scare except most came to me before they took the test and it always came up negative. She was the first girl to come to me well after the fact and with no reason to lie.

The bell from the front entrance opening distracts me. I look over to see who just walked into the diner and it's unsurprisingly Sam. Before they were engaged he'd always make sure to come by and see her at least once on the nights she was working. I guess nothing's changed even though now they see each other when she gets home. He looks around the building obviously searching for Leah, but he spots me first. He gives me a small smile and waves at me before roving his eyes over until he finds Leah walking out from the kitchen. He walks to her immediately and it's not long before she announces her break and their mauling each other's faces.

I try not to look disgusted especially since I've done far worse with a bigger audience, but I could do without the dopey looks on their faces. I get back to my coffee and finish it in one giant gulp. I flag down a waiter and ask him to refill. I wish I could drink something stronger but my fake ID got confiscated a few weeks back by this cashier that recognized me. Coffee is just going to have to do for now. I'm mid gulp when Sam comes to sit across from me.

"Hey, stranger." I resist the urge to give him the finger.

"What?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. Last time we talked you didn't seem to be in the right head space."

"Am I ever in the right head space?" I'm well aware I'm not the most mentally sound.

"Depends on the definition, but you just seemed off from your usual self."

"Well, I'm still off and still don't want to talk about it."

"Well tough." He stares me down with this intense stern look. I can't help but think he should be the one with a kid on the way. He'd definitely be a lot better at it.

"You know I have a dad for this shit—you don't need to play the concerned parent every time you think something's wrong with me."

Sam snorts, he knows what my dad is like and as sad as it sounds I'm definitely the adult in that relationship. I'm the one that makes sure the bills get paid, things are still functioning relatively well around the house and that he doesn't do anything too stupid to get fired. Granted I do most of that because I'm the only one home the majority of the time, but still, if I left he wouldn't survive for very long. "I'll stop when I see it."

I refrain from punching him in the face. He may be right, but that still doesn't give him the right to talk about him that way. That right belongs only to me. "What's your obsession with this Uley? Leah not keeping you entertained enough?"

It was now his turn to refrain from punching. I just smirked in response to his glare. "I'm gonna let that slide. Now talk."

"No." I take a sip of my coffee.

"I promise to buy you a pony," he says sarcastically.

"Will it shoot rainbows out of its ass?" I give him a big fake smile, teeth and all.

"Only if you use your imagination" See like I said—he should be having the kid.

"Too bad, I lost that years ago—I'm gonna need the real thing."

"Well, I guess your shit out of luck."

"Story of my life."

We both laugh at that. I let out an extended sigh and concede to telling him—not everything, but something to get him off my back. "It's this girl—I can't get her off my mind."

His eyes brows pinch together in confusion. "A girl, seriously, I've never known one to keep your attention for an hour let alone for almost a whole week."

"Well it's not really the girl, it's…something she has of mine." Not the best way to put it but I couldn't really come up with anything better on the spot.

"Well then get it back."

"Yeah, not that simple—I can't exactly get it back because it's technically ours."

"Well then let it go."

"I'm trying! But every time I try to forget her and the thing she has, it comes creeping right back into my brain and I can't think or do anything else."

Sam looks at me even more confused, "I have a feeling we're not talking about an object."

"Umm, no."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I can't say it out loud."

"Come on it can't be that bad?"

"Yes it can be—it affects my whole life."

Sam's eyes widen as he tries to decipher what I'm saying. "Okay Paul, I'm going to need you to stop beating around the bush and just blurt it out because I'm not following." He says every word slowly like I'm retarded or something. It nearly gets on my nerve but I understand where he's coming from—I haven't made much sense this entire conversation.

"Alright I…may or may not have…knocked somebody up." I have trouble getting the words out and say them almost too quietly, but by the wide-eyed look on his face, I can tell he understands me now.

He rubs hand down his face and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Are you sure it's yours?"

I was taken aback a little. Given my track record, I thought he would immediately blame me. "Umm…yeah—the chick has no reason to lie, at least about it being mine. If I were I'd have tried to pin it on someone else."

"But she didn't. She came to you and you blew her off." His eyes were stern again.

"What makes you think I blew her off?"

"If you hadn't we wouldn't be having this conversation," he tells me in a low tone.

"Fine, I blew her off, but she kinda blew me off too."

Sam raises his eyebrow. "How did she blow you off?"

"Well, not in so many words just more of a lack thereof. She basically told me and left—didn't ask for money, didn't ask me to be in the kid's life, nothing, she just left."

"Well did you give her a chance to ask you any of that or did you react in typical Paul fashion and let your anger take over before she could get a word in?"

I try to calm the rage inside of me, but it doesn't stop my nostrils from flaring. "Look I didn't ask her to come over drop a bomb on me insulting me in the process and make a mess of my kitchen. It still smells like puke." I'm nearly shouting.

Sam smacks me across the back of my head. "What's wrong with you? I'm pretty sure she didn't ask to get knocked up by an asshole and insulted by him either—shit happens and you deal with it. You don't just yell our way through problems—it doesn't solve anything, it just makes them worse."

"Thanks Sam, but no one asked you," I say beyond frustrated with this conversation. I'm about to get up when he grabs my arm and looks me in the eye.

"You need to fix whatever you broke because if you don't I know you'll regret it." He lets me go. I pull a few bills out of my pocket and put them on the table before I leave.

I'm lying in my bed awake after midnight and can't sleep. Sam's words are keeping me up. I understand where he's coming from—his dad left when he was young, so to have one of his friends willingly do the same thing was obviously going to get under his skin—but I have a dad and him simply being around hasn't really been much use. What use would I be to this kids life—I'm not patient enough to deal with any kids crying, I barely make minimum wage at my job at the garage, and I wouldn't exactly call myself the most loving, but it's still my kid. It's my kid that'll be less than fifteen minutes away and I didn't even bother with. As if I didn't already feel crappy enough about myself, now I'm going to have to add deadbeat dad to the list.

God, I wish my brain would just turn off! This is shit way beyond my pay grade. I should be out fucking some chick right now, not in my room thinking too much listening to my old man snoring in the next room. I grab my pillow and put it over my head. Maybe I can smother the thought out of my head.

When that goes nowhere I remove the pillow and flip the blankets off of me. I pull on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt and leave my room. I slip my shoes on and walk out the front door. I'm going for a walk—I don't know where I'm going, but it's better than sitting alone in my room.

I take in the fresh air, it's a little musty from the rain earlier but clears my head. I walk aimlessly for twenty minutes until I reach a house I recognize. It's Kate's—I don't know what drew me here, but I decide to tap on her bedroom window. When she doesn't answer I tap on t harder. She finally comes to the window groggy and irritated.

"Paul!" she whispers harshly. "What the fuck are you doing here? It's the middle of the fucking night."

"I was in the neighborhood." I think this is the only time I've ever used that phrase and it was true.

She rolls her eyes at me, "And thought, hey there's an easy lay, seriously Paul even I have my limits." She motions to shut the window.

"Hey, what if I just wanted to talk?"

"Then you wouldn't have come to me—we don't talk, ever. We fight and we fuck. That's all we do—that's all we'll ever do because that's all you're capable of. Now if you'll excuse me I was in the middle of some of the best dream sex of my life and I'd like to get back to it."

She doesn't give me anytime to answer before she shuts the window in my face. I stand there for a moment taking her words in. She's right—that's all I'm really capable of, but I'd like to be capable of more.

I move away from her window and continue my aimless walk. I'm not surprised when then next place I end up is Sam's. I don't even knock I just let myself in with the spare key they keep on the top of the door frame. I'm not careful when I shut the door behind me and the noise from the door closing causes Sam and Leah to wake up.

They find me sitting at their dining room table. The look a little bewildered to see me but once Sam recognizes me his expression changes from confused to knowing. He whispers something in Leah's ear and she walks back to their room. He walks to the coffee make and presses the start button then just like earlier he comes and sits across from me. "Any particular reason you're at my house at two o'clock in the morning?"

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by," I say sarcastically though it's partially true.

"Yeah but most people wait decent hours to stop by." He stares me down knowing I'll break—it's too damn late for me to avoid why I'm here.

"You said I'd regret it…if I wasn't around, but what if—" I heave out a sigh. "What if I regret it more if I am? I don't want my kid to grow up like me—with a parent that doesn't want you, but sticks around just because it's what they're supposed to do and one that doesn't even bother. I have nothing good to offer him." I avoid eye contact afraid of what he'll see when he looks at me.

"That right there guarantees you won't. You've already put more thought into how your kid will be raised than either of your parents ever did with you. You might not know everything or be perfect at it, but you're definitely enough. You'll make sure your kid is loved."

I give him a disbelieving look. "What makes you think that? I'm not capable of many emotions least of all love."

"Who told you that?"

"Everyone!" My outburst causes me to stand up. "Kate, Leah, you, everyone expects me to fuck up and not once have I disappointed."

"Well then prove us wrong. I know you can—you fuck up because we expect you to, not because you have some inherent inability to do right. You think 'they're going to blame me anyways so might as well do it' and it gets you nowhere. You're very capable of love, if you weren't we wouldn't be friends, so stop tearing yourself down. Stop letting other people define you. What do you think you're capable of? What do you think you can do? Better yet, what do you want to do?"

"I want to go back in time and make sure this whole thing never happens. But other than that I don't know. I never really had to think about it."

"Well then just take baby steps. Do you want to never see your kid? Never know how they turn out?"

I think about and this time I truly think about it. I envision the baby—it's a boy and it's smiling up at me and then he's a little older and I'm teaching him how to ride a bike and then I imagine the rest of his life right up to him graduating college—and then I think about not being there, missing all of it and it causes this weird ache in my stomach. "No," I say shaking my head. "No, I don't want to never see my son."

"Then fix it." The coffee machine beeps and he gets up to get us both some coffee. We drink in silence before he goes back to bed and I crash on his couch.

Because I'm a chicken shit it takes me two full days before I decide to go talk to her. Turns out she's very easy to find, I found her address in the phonebook. It's Saturday so I don't know if she had any plans today, but it's a gamble I'm willing to make.

I walk up to the door of a very nice two story white house with light blue trimmings. She seriously doesn't need my help if she's been shacking up in a place like this. I almost abort my whole mission, but then I remind myself that that's not why I'm here. I'm here because I want to be not because I need to.

I timidly knock on her door—I don't think I've ever been this shy, but hey—there's a first time for everything. A very agitated stout man with dark brown hair answers the door.

"Can I help you?" He all but yells at me. I've never really been popular with girl's dads, but it usually takes at least a minute before they let their distaste for me known.

"Umm, yes, is your daughter home?"

"Yes," he says shortly.

"Can I speak with her?" I say unsure.

"No."

"Shouldn't she tell me that herself," I say frustrated with his attitude. If it were different circumstances I might have decked the guy already.

"Well she's grounded at the moment, but I can tell her you stopped by…" He leaves that last part open ended.

"Paul," I say quickly.

His eyes narrow at me the moment he hears my name. "Paul?" His chest puffs in anger. "That wouldn't happen to be the same Paul that got my daughter pregnant," he growls at me.

"Fuck!" is all I can get out before he lunges at me.

A/N: Sorry for the cliff hanger, but it's necessary for next chapter. So I know it's been months and I am truly sorry. I have no real excuse I just put this on the back burner for a bit. Now I don't know when I will be getting back to this—hopefully soon, but don't hold your breath.