I saw ten missed calls from the jerk. Why was he calling her so much? What could be so important to him? Even if Quinn wanted another guy, why Brandon? Just because I'm acting calm doesn't mean I don't know what to do.
I quickly went upstairs, straight to Quinn's room. She was applying lotion to her body—a lovely sight. My vision was swimming; I was drunk. She looked surprised to see me, though.
I went to her and handed her her phone. She took it and didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry," I finally said after a long silence.
"What?" she muttered.
I sat beside her on the bed. "I said I'm sorry. Don't make me repeat myself. Believe me, this hurts harder than it sounds," I grumbled.
"If apologizing to me is going to end up being a complaint, then you should just go. I'm sleepy," she said, taking her pillow.
"Quinn, hear me out. I'm sorry for not telling you about the dinner. I just decided not to because you were pregnant and it would be stressful," I said.
