Read Online The Doll's House by Tania Carver - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tania Carver
Ads: Link
And she had kept her word, not told a single soul. Not even Ami, her best friend. Ami might have suspected, guessed something was going on when Maddy was being secretive about where she was and who she saw, but she had managed to get round it. And Ami wasnât the kind to go prowling and prying. So Maddy sat in her room, surrounded by her own things, her tokens and talismans brought from home, her photos and fetishes picked up along the way. Her attempts to accumulate her few possessions into a lodestone she could navigate her future life from. Instead she found herself clinging on to them, like the survivor of a shipwreck grasping any flotsam and jetsam, desperate not to be swept away.
She sighed, looked down at her legs, her groin once more. The slight bulge in the front of her jogging bottoms. She knew she shouldnât look, but she couldnât help it. Like picking at a scab and not letting it heal properly. Slowly she pulled her jogging bottoms out, away from her body. Looked down. Her underpants held the slight bulge of the damp pad against her skin. She pulled them away from her body too. Checked the pad.
Blood. Fresh.
She took her hands away quickly, letting her clothes snap back. She was still bleeding.
She felt her body shake, convulse, as another wave of tears threatened to overtake her, sweep her away from the makeshift raft, cast her adrift into nothingness.
âI canât⦠canât do thisâ¦â The words a whispered invocation between sobs.
It had all started so well. Too well. He was handsome, dashing. Charming. All the clichés her old self would have hated to hear her new self using. But he was different from all the others she had been out with, the clueless boys who strived too hard and missed the mark, just children playing at being men. He had swept her away from them, away from her friends. He had given her a glimpse into a world she knew about but had never been admitted to. Sophisticated, grown up. He had welcomed her into that world, told her she belonged, that he would guide her, shape her, make it hers. And she had let him. Because he had done something else for her too. Something none of the previous fumbling boys had even managed to do. Made her feel like she was the most important person in the universe. In
his
universe.
How could she not fall for him?
And now this. Her insides scraped out, an unending stream of blood between her legs. Like her life was running out of her. And a broken heart. No phone calls. No texts. No DMs on Twitter. Nothing. Like sheâd been put back in her own world. Dumped. Hurt.
Alone.
She wasnât naïve enough to think that the baby would have bound them together, made them a family. He didnât want that and she was in complete agreement with him. She didnât want a baby, not even with him. Or at least, not yet. She wanted him. To herself. Just him. And now she didnât even have that.
Another wave of despair built up, threatened to crash against her. She couldnât stand for that to happen, couldnât bear it. She looked round the room, once her sanctuary, now her prison, where everything she saw, touched, smelled reminded her of him. Her muscles, tired, aching, flexed, spasmed. Her body convulsed as the tears hit, started again. She threw herself to the floor, jamming her fist in her mouth, eyes screwed tight closed.
âStop⦠make it stop⦠make it stopâ¦â
Her feet hammering lightly on the floor, wanting to get it all out of her but not wanting the rest of the house to know what was happening.
The rest of the house. Maybe she should call Ami. Tell her what had happened. Give her the whole story. The secret affair. The mad lovemaking. The baby. The abortion. All of it. Tell her.
Sheâs a friend, a best friend, let her be a friend
.
Maddyâs hand snaked out to grab her mobile, fingers ready to call. She pulled herself to a sitting position, held the phone in front of her. Saw
She sighed, looked down at her legs, her groin once more. The slight bulge in the front of her jogging bottoms. She knew she shouldnât look, but she couldnât help it. Like picking at a scab and not letting it heal properly. Slowly she pulled her jogging bottoms out, away from her body. Looked down. Her underpants held the slight bulge of the damp pad against her skin. She pulled them away from her body too. Checked the pad.
Blood. Fresh.
She took her hands away quickly, letting her clothes snap back. She was still bleeding.
She felt her body shake, convulse, as another wave of tears threatened to overtake her, sweep her away from the makeshift raft, cast her adrift into nothingness.
âI canât⦠canât do thisâ¦â The words a whispered invocation between sobs.
It had all started so well. Too well. He was handsome, dashing. Charming. All the clichés her old self would have hated to hear her new self using. But he was different from all the others she had been out with, the clueless boys who strived too hard and missed the mark, just children playing at being men. He had swept her away from them, away from her friends. He had given her a glimpse into a world she knew about but had never been admitted to. Sophisticated, grown up. He had welcomed her into that world, told her she belonged, that he would guide her, shape her, make it hers. And she had let him. Because he had done something else for her too. Something none of the previous fumbling boys had even managed to do. Made her feel like she was the most important person in the universe. In
his
universe.
How could she not fall for him?
And now this. Her insides scraped out, an unending stream of blood between her legs. Like her life was running out of her. And a broken heart. No phone calls. No texts. No DMs on Twitter. Nothing. Like sheâd been put back in her own world. Dumped. Hurt.
Alone.
She wasnât naïve enough to think that the baby would have bound them together, made them a family. He didnât want that and she was in complete agreement with him. She didnât want a baby, not even with him. Or at least, not yet. She wanted him. To herself. Just him. And now she didnât even have that.
Another wave of despair built up, threatened to crash against her. She couldnât stand for that to happen, couldnât bear it. She looked round the room, once her sanctuary, now her prison, where everything she saw, touched, smelled reminded her of him. Her muscles, tired, aching, flexed, spasmed. Her body convulsed as the tears hit, started again. She threw herself to the floor, jamming her fist in her mouth, eyes screwed tight closed.
âStop⦠make it stop⦠make it stopâ¦â
Her feet hammering lightly on the floor, wanting to get it all out of her but not wanting the rest of the house to know what was happening.
The rest of the house. Maybe she should call Ami. Tell her what had happened. Give her the whole story. The secret affair. The mad lovemaking. The baby. The abortion. All of it. Tell her.
Sheâs a friend, a best friend, let her be a friend
.
Maddyâs hand snaked out to grab her mobile, fingers ready to call. She pulled herself to a sitting position, held the phone in front of her. Saw
Similar Books
