Chapter 10

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5 years later..

"She's a fighter Q, stop worrying." Rachel laughed as she tried to stop her wife's irrational fears. "Come on babe, she can take her first day at school."

"But what if the bigger kids beat her up? What if she misses us too much?" the blonde sobbed.

The sports player held the woman even tighter in her arms. "She will be okay. She's five years old." She placed a kiss on Quinn's head before pulling away. "I have to get to practice or the coach is going to kill me. I might be the star quarterback but that doesn't mean shit to him."

"Alright." The ex HBIC sniffled.

"Call me if you need me, okay baby and I will be home within twenty minutes." The quarterback picked up her gym back and heaved it on to her shoulder. "By the way Q, I love when you wear my old McKinley Jersey." Rachel pulled her wife in to a sweet kiss which lingered on the blondes lips for the rest of the day.

When their tiny five year old came home from her first day of school, the blonde was more than happy to see her. She had been very protective over the girl ever since the couple had lost their first child back in high school.

It had been a decade since Rachel and Quinn were in school and they had finally managed to stop living with their parents support and had finally branched out on their own. The quarterback had been scouted during college to play for the Jets and they got married as soon as gay marriage became legal in the state.

Not a day went by where either of the two didn't think about what they had been through all those years ago and how it nearly cost them each other.

I looked at her from across the room, my bag packed beside me and my hand on the door. She was on her knees. Crying.

I felt the tears falling down my cheeks as well but I couldn't feel the sadness that had brought them. I had been numb for months. I couldn't care about anything or anyone. Even Rachel.

I wanted to. God help me I wanted to so badly but I just couldn't. I was scared. I was rejecting the world because I was a failure.

I couldn't do the one thing that my body was programmed to do. I couldn't make my fiancé happy and seeing that spark die in her eyes, killed me more and more each day. She was hurting over our loss, I knew that. But how could she know how I feel? She wasn't connected to our baby like I was. She wouldn't ever know what I went through. The pain. The feeling as if my world was gone and it was never going to come back.

"I need some time." I said in a voice that I barely recognised as my own. It was robotic. Mechanical.

"But I need you Q. I don't want to take time apart. Just tell me what to do?" her tears were coming fast as she became more and more of a mess. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't pick up her pieces when I could barely find my own. Wasn't she supposed to be supporting me?

She must have been lying to me all along. It's the only reason I could think of to explain her behaviour.

But then of course, I wasn't thinking rationally back then.

"I just need to be alone." I walked out the door with barely a thought to what I was leaving. I went back to my parent's house and isolated myself from them. I didn't finish my senior year of high school because I could barely get through a day.

They say that miscarriages affect people in different ways. I just felt as if a part of me had died that day. It took me a while to get over that and thankfully, no matter how hard I pushed, Rachel was there.

I called her names. I ignored her. I through the pregnancy clothes she had bought me into the road while it was raining. I treated her like shit.

I treated her like shit because I blamed her. I blamed her for putting the baby inside me in the first place and it was her fault that we lost it.

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