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Three weeks.

It's been three weeks since I last left this room. Hell, it's been three weeks since I last left this bed.

I'm a mess. Complete and utter mess and I can't bring myself together. Even after three weeks, it still hurts.

There is that ache in my chest that just doesn't want to leave me these days and I fear I'll have to live with it. It hurts so much. It hurts to breathe. To live. It's that kind of a pain that you can't really ever heal. You can't do anything about it, just hope it'll pass someday. I hope this day comes soon because I don't know how much longer I can go on like this.

I miss him. I miss him with every fibre of my body, every cell in my body is crying for him, along with my eyes that are now swollen and red and they've been like that since the day he slammed the door behind him as he walked out of my life. The skin around my eyes hurts from rubbing them so much, my nose and skin under it hurt from blowing it so much.

I've never thought it'll hurt losing someone so much. It's like ... I died, but I'm still breathing. Yes, it's that bad. I ache for him.

I fell in love with him and I fell hard, crushed even harder. It's not that I didn't know how much I love him - it's just that I never realised how deep he buried himself under my skin.

I still hate him for what he said. His hateful words keep replaying in my head, making me go crazy. But then, what's even more painful, the good memories come flooding in. How we were together, his kisses, his touches, his looks ... everything is there in my mind, replaying the events.

I've barely eaten anything. If it wasn't for Brooke stomping in my room three days after that fight with Braden, demanding if I don't eat something, she'll shove the food in my mouth with her own hands.

Brooke was really great, no matter how much she reminded me of Braden. She's been there for me, caring for me all along. She's been listening to me crying, picking me up from the floor when I just didn't have any energy in me to move and came to my room in the middle of the nights when I woke up screaming and crying for Braden and he wasn't there. It sometimes happened more than once in one night.

I feel literally obsessed with Braden. Or that I have a satan living inside of my body, not allowing me to forget how much I miss him.

God, it hurts. It hurts so damn much.

I haven't gone to work, not even once. I've barely showered and I haven't talked to anyone because I sent all the things that Braden gave me back to him - a phone, a necklace, earrings and all of the clothes. I had to ask Brooke to send the stuff because I didn't know Braden's address. I don't know where he took me that day when I was released from the hospital.

I even made sure that the half a million dollars he gave me, were given back to him. It was too painful having things that reminded me of him. I don't want anything from him.

Except, I kept some of his clothes he left here. I didn't have it in me to return them because some of them still smelt like him and as much as it brought me a misery, it also made me safe and protected.

Besides, I like being alone in my own misery. Nobody knows what happened between us except for Brooke and Aaron, and that's only because she told him and he's been to the flat once, seeing the state I was in.

I actually feel pretty pathetic, because I can't stop crying and can't stop thinking about him. I'm carrying his child. A child that he doesn't want and even dared to imply isn't his. That probably hurt the most.

For some reason, I'm afraid to leave my room just in case I'll see him. I know it's close to impossible because he hasn't been here, not even to visit Brooke. And I think she hasn't even talked with him. She's pretty pissed off because of what he did, but I already told her that I don't want her fighting with her brother because of me.

She simply said that he did the wrong thing and she won't back him off with this one.

I can't even go to work because that brings up my chances of seeing him. I'm a coward, I know, but I don't think I'd be able to see his face again and not break down in front of everyone.

Thank god the morning sickness now isn't that bad as it was before. I don't vomit every day anymore, but certain smells do get my stomach rolling. And I can't take the smell of alcohol for some reason.

I sit up in my bed a little. I'm such a mess. I haven't showered in a few days, my hair is greasy and sticking out in every place, my clothes need a desperate washing and so do the sheets. I couldn't bring myself to change them because I could still smell Braden on them. I hugged his pillow close to my body, pretending it was him often, but now it lost his smell and I feel like a hobo.

I stand up and open the window, a cold November air hitting my face and chilling my body. I wrap my arms around myself.

I look down at my hands on my stomach, caressing it. I'm not showing yet, but I know there's a little human being growing inside of me. I can feel it. And I love him or her with every fibre in my body already. I don't care if this child won't have their father in their life, I'm going to be a mother and a father to them, because no matter what Braden said, this child was conceived with love.

I go into the bathroom and I don't come out from it for 45 minutes. I let my wet hair fall freely down my back and go change the sheets.

I feel this constant hurting in my chest, constant tightness ... Whoever said that it passes with time, they might've lied, because it's getting worse as the days pass.

I had a hope that maybe, just maybe, he's going to call me or come over to my flat and talk this out. That this was just a misunderstanding between us, but when the days passed and then weeks ... I realised that we're done for good.

Maybe it's better this way. I don't deserve him, anyway. I didn't mean him to find out about my feelings the way he did and I didn't mean to get pregnant. It all just happened and now it is what it is. It's too late.

I get out of the room to go get some food. I know it's not healthy for the baby that I barely eat anything, but I just can't stomach the food right now.

''Oh, look, the princess found the way out of her castle!'' Brooke whistles as I come into the kitchen. She's sitting behind the table, fashion magazines spread before her.

I force myself to smile. I want to take a cup of coffee when I remember that it's probably not a good idea. I sigh, preparing myself a tea instead. ''I guess it was time already,'' I say, avoiding Brooke's eyes.

There's a silence between us before she asks with a concern. ''Are you hungry?''

I stare at the left-overs of what she probably ate for lunch and even though I really don't feel any hunger, I feel the need to feed the baby growing inside of me. ''No, but I need to eat anyway,'' I say, putting the food down on the table, careful not to spill anything on Brooke's magazines.

Brooke nods at me, smiling warmly, although I can feel the sympathy in her eyes. ''You do have to eat. You don't eat for yourself only anymore.''

As if she needs to remind me of that. I nod tightly and dig into my food.

After I finish, I excuse myself to go to my room. I lie on my bed, put the ear buds in my ears and drown the world out.

But it's not easy because every time I hear a love song or a song about heartbreak, I'm on the verge of tears again.

Dammit, that man really messed me up good.

I put the ear buds out before I start crying again.

I suddenly hear voices outside. Thinking I only imagined it, I try to ignore it, but I hear low murmurs again. I draw my eyebrows together, scooting up from the bed.

I open the door and peek out. I don't see anything or anyone. I go out of the room, calling, ''Brooke?''

But then I come to a sudden stop and almost crash down on the floor if it wasn't for putting my hand on the wall to steady myself, because my eyes look directly at the pair of very familiar chocolate eyes that made me up, only to crash me later.

I take a deep breath in my lungs, suddenly feeling paralysed. His eyes captivate me. Tears instantly whelm in my eyes, a sudden pain shooting through my chest - a pain so hard that it makes me stumble back a bit.

God, it's so good to see him, but at the same time, I feel like it's a curse. A curse and a blessing at the same time. He suddenly stands up, his movement seems uncontrolled. He stands tall in his suit, with his jacket unbuttoned, his hands in his pockets. He looks unreal. Like an angel.

The longer I look at him, the longer I feel his presence in the room, the more I have trouble with containing my tears.

It hurts to see him and not touch him. Not kiss him. Not hold him.

Jesus, this is too much. I wasn't prepared for this, I wasn't ready to see him so soon.

''I'm sorry. I wouldn't come out if I knew - I won't disturb you any further,'' I stumble, my voice shaking. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I can't breathe.

I turn around on my heel, so fast that the room circles around for a moment, before it stills.

''Rory,'' I hear him call out my name, like a prayer and a curse, his tongue rolling my name off so perfectly.

There was a time that I loved him calling my name, I loved hearing him say it. But now, I despise it, because hearing his voice, hearing him say my name like a plea ...

I fly out of the living room and escape the painful encounter. I press my back on the wall in my room, massaging my neck, breathing hard so I don't pass out.

The tears escape me and I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the loud sob that wants to escape me.

Dear God, when will this pain end?

I hear a soft bang at my door and jump up in fear. I almost expect to see Braden coming in, so I watch the door, frightened. I don't even breathe so I can hear what's going on outside.

I'm met with only a silence.

***

Brooke comes in the room later. She finds me sitting on the chair beside the window, curled up on it, gazing out at the snow falling.

I always found such a comfort at watching the snowflakes fall, but it also always made me kind of depressing.

It's even more depressing now because I just remember how much I miss Braden and how much I want him to be here with me, having me in his embrace.

Brooke doesn't say anything as she comes to me and puts her arms around me in a warm hug. I can't hold the tears at this time. In only seconds, my face is all wet, my nose stuffed and I'm breathing in shaky breaths here and there.

''I'm so sorry, I wouldn't come out if I knew he was here, I -''

''Shh, Rory, stop,'' Brooke says, her arms squeezing me. ''He was surprised to see you, but I doubt he minded it. In fact, I thought he was even going to come after you,'' Brooke surprised me by saying.

I lift my head to look at her. ''What?'' I mumble with my groggy voice.

Brooke shakes her head, wiping my tears away. ''He misses you, too, you know,'' she surprises me once again. ''Even though he doesn't admit it, I know him enough. I know when he's in pain, and that pain I saw, Rory, I didn't even see it when his ex-finacée left him.''

I stare at the wall for long seconds, hungrily swallowing her words. Then, after a long pause, I say, ''I think I'm going to move out and find a new place.'' It's a decision I know I have to make.

Brooke gasps. ''What? Why?''

I pin her with a gaze.

She only sighs. ''I know it's hard, Rory. And if you thought this through, I know I can't force you to stay here. I can only imagine how hard it must be for you.''

I nod. ''And I think I'll look for another job, too,'' I say, mostly to myself.

I see pain crossing on Brooke's face. ''I don't understand you, Rory, but I'm trying to. And I also beg you that you don't rush things.''

''I'm not trying to rush anything, but you have to understand that I can't stand to watch him at work and then risk to see him at my home. It's too hard, too painful,'' I say, blinking back the tears.

God, I'm so sick of crying already, but I just can't stop doing it for some reason.

Brooke brushes my hair back, her gesture tender and I know she means well with it, but it only reminds me how many times Braden used to brush my hair back like that and it only breaks a sob out of me.

***

I stay at home the next day and I decide this is the last day of my self-pity. It's been too long and I hate myself for being so wrecked and broken over a man that broke my heart, saying that he didn't love me back and didn't want this child.

Fuck him. There are other men out there who'd treat me better.

The only problem is - now that I know Braden's touch, anyone man's touch will feel like a sad approximation of Braden's and it'll never be enough and never what I want.

At exactly four o'clock, there's a knock at the door. I wonder who it is for a moment and then I get excited, thinking it could be Lily. Or my parents.

Or it could only be Brooke.

I chew on my peach as I open the door with a big smile until I notice the figure standing in front of me, and it sure as hell isn't Lily. Or Brooke. Or my parents.

My smile slips and I only choke on my peach.

Braden is leaning on the door frame with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. He looks casual, almost bored. I'd lie to myself if I said that I don't miss that look on him, even though I didn't like it much back then when we were still ... something.

He looks so deviously handsome in his dark suit, his hair slightly longer than before, his unshaven chin ... he should come with a warning. And I immediately hate him for looking so good and so polished, while I'm literally a mess in my shorts, a tank top and a hair a complete mess.

''Uh ... Brooke isn't home yet,'' I say when I can finally unglue my tongue from my roof.

Braden straightens. He stares at me openly, not even adverting his eyes once away from my face. It's too painful to look at his familiar gaze, so it's me who breaks our gazes first and I drop my eyes on the floor.

I see a movement of Braden's hand, but he catches himself in mid-air and puts it back down to his side. ''I'm not here to see Brooke,'' he suddenly says, surprising me.

My knees almost buckle as I catch his scent when he walks past me into the flat. His cologne mixed with his unique smell of a pure man ... totally my weakness. I have to lean on the floor and blink a few times to see if this is not just a dream and I'll wake up soon.

Braden looks me up and down and I cross my arms on my chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He's always so polished, while I'm usually just a mess and half of the time, I don't even care about it.

''Why are you here then?'' I force my voice to come out steady and swallow the lump in my throat. Jesus, I feel like someone threw a bomb at me.

''We need to talk, Rory,'' Braden says.

I take a deep breath and turn around to find him casually sitting on my couch, with his jacket open and his arm on the armrest, his leg on his other one.

He looks so casual sitting there and I notice how he always dominates the place he comes in. Like he owns everything he steps on. Including me.

I clumsily walk toward him while he watches me with preying eyes. He pats the spot on the couch beside him, but I sit on the other one because I don't think I'd be able to sit so close to him again.

He frowns a bit, watching me take a seat, but he quickly composes himself and straightens up. His eyes are studying me. ''How are you, Rory?'' he surprises me once again by asking. And what's even more surprising is there's pure softness and niceness in his voice.

I quickly pull up my guard and watch him straight right back. I'm still not done being hurt by him and I don't think I'll ever be fine with what he did to me. I sink deeper into the couch. ''What do you want, Braden?'' It feels good saying his name in so long again, even though my words are biting and hateful.

Did he expect he can break my heart, and one month after it comes to me and make a small talk with me? Yeah, sure.

Braden suddenly leans forward, puts his leg down and clasps his hands together on his thighs. He glares at me and if I could, I would hide myself under the couch. ''Please, answer my question.''

Have I mentioned lately how much I love his eyes? Because I do. They're so ... beautiful, not the usually brown, but slightly darker, that chocolate brown and I love chocolate. I sigh quietly to myself. God, I'm hopeless. He broke my heart in pieces, hurt me like no other person before, and here I am, thinking how much I love his eyes.

But I can't just not love him anymore, even after what he said and how he left. He'll always be a part of me if I want it or not.

''I won't say I'm good because it's not my habit to lie,'' I mutter, looking down on the floor as I feel my cheeks getting warmer. Oh, why did I have to say that?

I see Braden flinch from the corner of my eyes and I see he becomes restless, moving on the couch. ''I feel the same,'' I hear him breathe and I sharply turn my head up to look at him.

What? What does that mean? Has he missed me like I did? Or that's just my stupid wishful thinking again ...

I hear Braden inhale deeply. He shakes his head and then looks at me again. ''We have to talk about this ... situation.'' He points his hands towards me and my stomach.

I cross my arms on my stomach protectively and glare at him, anger suddenly building in me. ''We don't have any situation, Braden,'' I state, not missing a tone. ''And stop referring to my child as a situation.''

Braden clasps his hands behind his neck and looks up at the rooftop. ''I'm sorry,'' he says honestly, his voice cracking before he clears his throat. He levels me with his stare again. ''But it's also my child.''

I huff, laughing dryly. ''Are you sure about that?'' I say, just to throw his hateful words back to him.

He grows impossibly stiff and his eyes go wild. ''What are you trying to say, Rory?'' he asks, his voice quiet and too calm - an indication that I now already know that he's pissed.

I shrug and play with my tank top. ''I'm not really saying anything.'' I'm playing a childish game here, I know, but he's throwing me off guard and I don't know what I can say to him. I'm not ready to have this conversation again. I'm not ready for his hateful words and then him leaving again.

If he does it again, he can at least rip my heart out fully and take it with him so I don't have to go through the same pain again. It belongs to him, anyway.

Braden suddenly stands up and he's by my side in two long, fast steps. He sits down beside me, puts both his hands on my knees and turns my body so I face him.

I jolt up from the movement, not prepared for it at all. His hands burn the naked skin on my legs, sending a shot of electricity through my whole body. My eyes are wide, my mouth is open, but I can't breathe.

I stare at him open-mouthed, stare at him closely - into his every feature, his beautiful eyes, his sculpted jaw, his full lips that make mine tingle at the reminder of how they feel against my lips and the other parts of my body that he left kisses on.

''Is there another man in your life?'' he asks with a tight voice and an even tighter jaw from clenching it so hard.

My eyebrows draw together. I'm unable