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A/N: This story is now revised and edited and hopefully better than the original version. I would love to hear from you all. Thanks for reading, reviewing and your support.
Oh god, here we go again, I thought to myself, as I walked into the dressing room of the club. Bella was sitting there pouring a bottle of pills into her hand; I was so sick of this shit. Either she wanted to die or she didn't. If she was going to kill herself, she needed to grow a pair and do it; or either stop giving herself pity parties.
I knew things were rough for her, but life was hard for everybody; get over it already. I knew it had to be rough having a shit head for an ex- husband, who gave you shit every time you called and wanted to talk to your kid, but enough was enough. I was fed up with this crap, so I stepped into the room and went to my bag where I pulled out my hand gun. I laid it in her lap. She looked at me like I was nuts and I probably was.
"Bella, either shit or get off the pot. I have had it with your half assed attempts to kill yourself. If you're gonna do it, then do it right; if you're not, then shut the fuck up and get over yourself. If I come in here tomorrow and you are working, I don't want to hear anymore of your self pity. Goodnight," I told her.
I gathered my belongings; I hugged her and left.