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Beautiful Mistake (Mistake #1)

Page 32

by Laiza Millan


  .

  .

  .

  3 Days Later

  .

  Emma sighed, her gaze switching from the window to Aidan, who finally mastered the art of crawling from one place to another without falling.

  It's been days since she heard from Drake.

  Sure, she told him that he needed to spend some more time with his mother, but couldn't he at least call?

  Emma groaned.

  Great, she's starting to sound like those clingy girlfriends, isn't she? She's not even his official girlfriend, yet she still finds herself worrying about him.

  The last time she saw him was when Richard called because apparently something 'important' happened. Even Rich didn't answer her calls.

  She found that very odd, because arrogant Richard would always answer her calls in a heartbeat.

  Aidan crawled over to her feet, where she couldn't help but laugh as she picked him up. However, Aidan didn't want that. He squirmed at her hold, begging to be let down.

  "Okay, okay." Emma laughed, gently placing him back to where he wanted. "Hyper child."

  After watching Aidan continue to crawl and pause at certain areas on the floor, Emma made up her mind. She quickly reached for her purse and grabbed her cell phone.

  When she spotted his name on the contacts, she lifted her thumb to press but hesitated.

  Should she call? Would that seem weird or clingy if she does? Should she wait if he calls first?

  Emma snorted.

  What the hell, she's not sixteen years old anymore. Yet, she can't help but feel like it based on all the nervousness she's feeling all of a sudden.

  Why is she nervous?!

  Oh what the hell, it's only Drake.

  Pressing the 'CALL' button, Emma placed the phone on her ear, listening to the ringing.

  Two rings.

  Four rings.

  Is he not going to answer again or -

  "Hello?"

  It literally felt as if her heart just skipped a beat. "Hey Drake."

  She inwardly applauded herself for keeping her cool.

  "What do you want?" Drake replied; his tone icy and low.

  Whoa there...

  Emma frowned. "I just wanted to see how you are doing. I've -"

  "I'm busy." Drake muttered, seemingly uninterested with anything she had to say. "Stop calling me."

  What the hell?

  "Is everything okay?" Emma asked, noticing the change of attitude.

  Silence.

  "Something's wrong." Emma realized, shaking her head. "Drake, what's wrong, are you -"

  "None of your damn business, Collins!" Drake suddenly spat, his voice rising.

  "What is wrong with you?" Emma cried out, confusion hitting her.

  What is going on? If he's starting to revert back to his 'old' ways again, then she doesn't like that at all.

  Emma sighed, "Drake -"

  "Everything is fine, okay?" Drake snapped back.

  "You're lying to me." Emma pushed on, "Please, Drake. Tell me what's wrong?"

  Silence.

  Please, don't hang up on her.

  More silence.

  "Emma," He finally whispered. Yet she couldn't help but notice the drastic change in his voice. He sounded so tired and defeated, which frightened her even more. "Please just... Just back off."

  With that, she heard the phone line go dead.

  Emma blinked, staring at her phone. Her mind was filled with anger and confusion; she didn't really know what to feel.

  After everything they been through, after all the promises he made of trying not to hurt her and Aidan. After all those times he spent with them. After all those annoying times he kept apologizing and thanking her for giving him a third chance...

  He's going to act like this?

  Emma threw her phone on the couch in irritation.

  Huffing a sigh, she closed her eyes and let out a loud groan. Drake was always so confusing and irritating at times.

  One thing is for sure... Something is going on with Drake and she is going to find out what it is.

  Chapter 22

  .

  Drake was sitting on the window sill, his left shoulder leaning against the cold window as he tilted his head to the side, letting it fall while he felt the spring breeze blow between his hair.

  He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, watching his breath create small condensation effects on the window, as he mindlessly continued to stare outside of his backyard.

  His father is dead.

  Kicked the bucket.

  Just like that, his good-for-nothing asshole of a father just pulled the plug and is zip! Gone. His mother doesn't even know yet.

  Drake sighed again. Should he tell her? Would she even care?

  He couldn't help but inwardly roll his eyes at his own questions... Of course, she might not care. Why would she?

  Ring! Ring!

  Drake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, hearing his phone go off. Groaning, he forced himself off of his butt and moved towards his desk, where his cell phone continued to ring constantly.

  He grabbed the phone and looked at the screen to see who is bothering his peaceful solitude.

  Emma.

  Drake was torn between answering the phone and being an ass by not answering the phone. It's not that he doesn't want to talk to her; it's just that he wants a bit of privacy.

  He just wants to have a few days where he can freaking wallow in his own pathetic self to pity, is that too much to ask?

  It's not just Emma who kept calling him though, it was also Richard. Those two just can't take the hint when a man obviously wants some privacy.

  Knock! Knock!

  Drake glared at the door, the knocking sound interrupting his thoughts. He shook his head to himself, and slowly walked back to the window sill, hoping the person from the other side would just go away.

  Knock! Knock!

  Drake let out an angry growl, "What the hell do you want?"

  The knocking finally stopped.

  "Drake Rogers," His mother's voice rung out from the other side of the door. "Do not use that kind of language towards me, young man! Open this door!"

  The doorknob rattled violently, as if Nancy was trying her hardest to break the door open.

  Losing his patience, he pushed himself off of his comfort place, and strode towards the door. He roughly grabbed the door handle and twisted it, pulling the door with such force that it nearly smacked him in the face.

  Nancy dropped her hands and crossed her arms, "Why did you lock the door, son?"

  "Why are you here, mother?" Drake couldn't help but snarl back.

  Nancy could only roll her eyes at Drake's immature behavior. "What's going on? is everything okay?"

  No.

  Everything is not okay, obviously.

  Drake wanted to tell her. But for some reason, he just couldn't. It's at the tip of his tongue, and all he has to do is just blurt it out! But the thing is, it is very hard to tell a family member that another family member is dead.

  Something like this is not that simple, and Drake hates that.

  He is not prepared for what his mother's expression would be, and he is not prepared for what he will do when he admits the truth out loud.

  So, he lied, trying to buy himself time. "Yeah, I'm just stressing out."

  "I see." Nancy smiled, and drew him into a hug. "Hang in there."

  Drake nodded, after he let go. He couldn't look at her in the eyes, so he just stared at the ground, hoping she would take the hint and just leave already.

  "Oh! I almost forgot." Nancy gasped, turning around.

  "What?" He asked, confused.

  She turned around and threw him another motherly smile. "Emma is here."

  Drake immediately let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

  .

  .

  .

  Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as she watched Nancy descend from the stairs. Sh
e quickly stood up from the chair and smiled.

  "Hey Nancy," She murmured, rather shyly. "Again, I'm sorry for bursting in like this -"

  "Nonsense!" Nancy interrupted her, waving her hands dismissively. "It's been ages since I've seen you, dear. Where is Aidan?"

  Emma kindly smiled back, feeling awkward. "Oh, he's with Jenna at the moment. I couldn't exactly bring him here, knowing Drake might flip."

  Nancy rolled her eyes, "Well, he is in his room so you're welcome to go upstairs."

  "Are you sure?" Emma asked, frowning. "I mean, I'm okay with meeting him down here in the living room, Nancy."

  However the elder woman just shrugged. "Well it's obvious the overgrown man child doesn't want to come out of his crib, so I'm afraid you have to be the one to go to him."

  Though Emma could have a sworn a little mischievous smirk flashed across Nancy's face. However, she disregarded it as a trick of the light.

  "If you insist." Emma giggled, already heading upstairs. She paused after the middle step and turned around to face Nancy. "And thank you, by the way. I'm sorry I haven't been here to visit you for months, but thank you."

  Nancy's confused expression softened. "You can repay me by letting me see my grandson? If that's okay with you."

  Emma immediately grinned, furiously nodding her head in agreement. "That is more than okay, Nancy."

  She turned back around and quickly rushed upstairs, wanting to reach Drake's room. It's been a while since she went to his room. Does she even remember where it's located? This is such a big ass house, after all.

  Jeez, their house is like a damn hotel... a long hallway with many doors on each side.

  Finally, she reached the door she was looking for.

  Of course it was closed.

  Emma closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. She inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled, feeling all of her nerves and stress escape her body, as she quickly gave her sweaty palms a shake.

  She raised her fist and knocked three times.

  No answer.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  Again, no answer.

  Emma was growing impatient, as she turned her knocking more forcefully.

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  Finally!

  The door opened, revealing a disheveled looking Drake, only in his pajamas and his hair all messy, as if he just came out from a very deep sleep.

  Emma couldn't help but flinch at his appearance.

  Wow, he looks nothing like the Drake Rogers she is used to seeing. He was always so fresh and professional looking. But now? It's like a homeless, dirty, lazy man is standing in front of her... a complete stranger.

  "Drake?" Emma asked, the sight of her making her breathless. "What the hell?"

  Drake merely glared at her, "What are you doing here?"

  "You haven't been answering my calls." Emma said, crossing her arms.

  "You know, Collins," Drake drawled, closing the door only half way. "I'm pretty sure that when someone ignores ones calls, or doesn't bother calling the person back... I do think that generally means that the person doesn't want to talk nor have anything to do with them."

  Emma opened her mouth to retort back, but Drake interrupted her.

  "Now if you excuse me." He made a move to close the door, but she quickly placed her foot between the door and the frame.

  Drake stared at her foot and growled, "Move your foot, Emma."

  "No." She simply said, her arms still cross and determined.

  Drake could only stare back at her before his face morphed into an angry scowl. "Move your fucking foot out of the way, Emma. Now."

  "Oh shut up." Emma sighed, taking her foot out but only to roughly push the door all the way open and letting herself inside his room.

  She gently pushed Drake out of the way, and closed the door to have some privacy. Ignoring Drake's indignant splutter, she looked around his room and couldn't help but gasped.

  What the hell?

  Messy!

  This room was disgustingly worst than the typical teenage boy's room!

  She noticed empty beer cans on the table, on the floor, and even on his bed! His clothes are littered literally across the bedroom, and goodness... What is that awful stench?

  Her mind was completely filled with disgust and surprise, that she didn't even notice Drake's impatient calls.

  "What the hell!" Drake snapped, striding towards her. "You need to leave."

  Emma shook her head, clearing her mind as she turned to face him. She scoffed, "Excuse me? You need to clean up!"

  "Fuc - Screw you, Emma." Drake snarled, his anger mixing with frustration towards the stubborn woman in front of him.

  She raised an eyebrow, and couldn't help but quote him, "Don't you remember, Rogers? You already did."

  She smirked, seeing the surprised look on his face before he quickly masked it with that typical angered scowl.

  "Now," She clapped her hands as she looked around the room again. "Honestly, Drake, you don't live in a damn pig sty. Please, start cleaning up. I mean, look at this!"

  She headed towards the table, and picked up an empty crushed beer bottle. She shook it in his direction, "These last few days, you've been drinking? The least you can do is toss your garbage away!"

  "Don't tell me what to do." Drake snapped, grabbing the can from her hand and slamming it back on the table. "Fucking leave my room!"

  "No." She simply said, again. She turned around and continued to gather some of the clothes off the floor. "This room is disgusting, Drake. You can get sick, you know. And seriously, ever heard of fresh air?"

  She used one hand and lifted the window pane, letting the cool breeze enter the room.

  Satisfied, she spotted his laundry basket and walked towards it, throwing some of the clothes she picked up along the way.

  "See?" She beamed, as the breeze hit her still. "Oh, this is why this room smells. No fresh air."

  The whole time, Drake just stared.

  Who the hell does this woman think she is, coming over here to his bedroom, his sanctuary, telling him to clean up his room, as if she's his damn mother?

  "What is this?" Emma asked, grabbing an unopened small clear bag containing a green looking plant that was rolled into squares.

  She stared at it for a few seconds before gasping, turning around and striding towards him, her facial expression fuming. "What the hell!"

  She shook it and growled, "C'mon, Drake! Don't tell me -"

  He grabbed the packet and lashed out, "That's none of your fucking business, Emma!"

  "Yes it is!" Emma roared back, "It's my business now, because since when did you start taking bloody Cannabis or even -"

  "Don't!" Drake shouted, trying to get the drug from her.

  "No!" Emma growled, "Do you fucking realize what I can do? I work for a damn lawyer, Drake! You're not exactly carrying the best criminal record! If the police saw this, I can get in trouble for not reporting you!"

  Drake stiffened, though his facial expression remained blank. "You'll turn me in?"

  Emma opened her mouth but stopped.

  What can she do?

  She continued to stare at him, her mind raging with all these different emotions and thoughts. She was torn with what to do.

  She should do the legal thing and just turn his ass over, maybe that would teach him a lesson or two. But then again, just the thought of him being handcuffed and shoved inside a police car just makes her want to vomit. Literally, the thought of it was going to make her sick because she doesn't want that to happen.

  What would Aidan think when he grows up?

  How can Drake be so damn selfish?

  Does he realize what he is doing to himself? To her? To Aidan?

  How can he even -

  She closed her eyes. Her head was starting to ache and her eyes were beginning to water due to her overwhelming sudden stress and confusion.

  She furiously wiped the moisture from her eyes, no longer caring that Drake witnessed
her weakness once again.

  Her resolve was cracking once more. No, forget this. She doesn't care anymore. This is completely stupid, she has no idea why she's wasting her time.

  Screw this and screw him.

  She shook her head again, "No."

  "What?" Drake whispered, his voice laced with surprise.

  "No." Emma heatedly repeated, throwing the plastic violently back at him. She quickly stood up and headed towards the door.

  "Where are you going?" Drake called out, as she neared the door.

  However, Emma ignored him.

  Drake's eyes widened. He knew he wanted her to leave but for some reason, the expression of her face... the look of utter disappointment when she saw the plant, and the anger and sadness that came along with it...

  It was doing something to him.

  Maybe because he regretted what he said, or maybe just the sight of her actually turning around to leave him all alone just like that; or the sudden thought that she has finally broken her trust and has given up on him when deep down...

  He realizes he doesn't want that.

  Maybe it was all of this that caused him to immediately rush towards her.

  She reached for the door knob, but felt two strong arms wrapping around her waist.

  "Let go of me, Drake." She calmly said, trying to control the storm inside her.

  "No." This time, it was his turn to refuse.

  "I said," She roughly moved side to side, trying to break his hold around her. "Let go!"

  She continued to fight against him. Slapped his hands, pulled his stubborn arms away from her, and even resorted into trying to stomp his foot with hers.

  But of course, he didn't budge.

  Until finally, she gave up with a cry. Her body went completely limp, as she sagged all of her weight against him. She felt Drake's lips against her neck, as she let out a sob.

  "I'm sorry." Drake's voice whispered against her skin, though his voice was also raspy.

  Emma immediately turned around so she could come face to face with him, and dropped her head on the crook of neck. Her shoulders shook as she couldn't help but let out her frustrated sobs, her hands clutching onto his shirt for support.

  Drake's arms around her tightened. "Emma."

  But Emma continued to shake her head, it was as if her heart was literally beating too fast that she had to gulp deep breaths for her heart to function.

 

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