Thick & Thin (Chubby Girl Chronicles Book 3) by Vargo Tabatha

Author:Vargo, Tabatha [Vargo, Tabatha]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-01-20T16:00:00+00:00

24

Josh

Seeing Jenny would never get easy. The hurt and anger would always be there for as long as I lived. But seeing her lift her little boy into her arms and knowing I would never have that with her, or anyone for that matter, shattered me. My heartbreak and resentment transformed into something dangerous that I wasn’t sure I could control.

When she walked away from my mom, her son on her hip, and her long hair falling down her back almost touching her round luscious ass, I found myself following her, my shoes tearing across the grass in angry strides that brought me to the car she had gotten for graduation.

I tried not to admire how nice it looked while I waited impatiently for her to buckle her son it. When she shut the door and I was sure the little guy wouldn’t hear me, I let loose on her. Angry words spewed from my lips, and even though I knew I would feel like shit later that night, I didn’t stop them. I was hurting, and I wanted her to hurt too. It was only fair.

When I walked away from her, I did so with my heart in my stomach. Bile and acid ate it, making me burn everywhere. I was in the process of burying my father. My mother wouldn’t stop fucking crying, and my sister was being the biggest bitch on the East Coast.

I was aware that I had fucked up. I was aware that a good son would have been there. I knew I was a piece of shit, but I couldn’t rewind time, and if I could, I would go back to the moment I enlisted in the military.

That would have changed everything. I wouldn’t have gone to boot camp. I would have spent the summer after graduation with Jenny, loving her and being loved by her. Then I would have waited at home while she went to college. I would have been there to work on the farm for my dad, allowing him to retire and work when he wanted to. And once Jenny came home from college, I would have asked her to marry me. We would be together. We would have kids. Things would be as they should be.

But that wasn’t possible. Instead, Jenny and I were nothing to each other, and my father was cold in a casket waiting to be stuffed in the ground. I could never have kids, and I wasn’t sure I would ever be myself again mentally or physically.

Jenny’s car roared to life behind me, the engine sounding as beautiful as I imagined Jenny’s muscle car would sound, and I heard the engine switch gears when she pulled away from the curb and took off down the street.

The rest of the day was a blur. We returned to the house where people brought food and visited with my mom. I stood in the corner and prayed that Jenny wouldn’t come through the front door. Slowly, the crowd

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