“Today. I read an article she did with Sports Illustrated.”
Then it hits me. I jump from the bed, heading for the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” I glance back to see Zoey’s sexy ass tits sitting taut at the peak, stomach flat and generous thighs, wearing nothing but a grimace.
“To take a shower to keep from cussing your manipulative ass out.”
“Cussing me out? For what? I didn’t ask if you slept with her. I just wanted to know what you thought of her.”
“Why?” I yelled.
“Because she obviously likes you!” Zoey’s voice turns up a notch, too.
“What is she? Twenty? What the fuck would I want with a twenty-year-old kid, Zo?”
“The same thing you wanted from me when I was twent—” Zoey cups her mouth. Even in the dimness of the room, I see tears welling.
“What the hell is going on, Zoey?” I almost whisper as I bend, though feet away, to try to align my eyes with hers. “Are we regressing here?”
“I don’t know!” Her voice is identical to that day in her kitchen when Jordan was four months old and she asked why we couldn’t be together.
In fact, this is the same scenario as when she saw Erika doing an interview. This is bullshit!
“I want you! I only want you! I’ve always wanted you! From the day I met you, I’ve wanted no one else! It was fucked up that I found you so young. Yes, I crossed the line, morally, on so many occasions with you, but it’s not something I’m going to regret, because you are it for me. I knew you needed time to develop, but I sure as fuck wasn’t going to let you go when I needed you even as a damn kid then, Zoey! Are we clear?” I scream.
“How do I know? You say you love me and would do anything for me, but I can’t get the one baby I’m actually asking for!”
That stings like a bitch. And just like she went off in the land of hysteria that day in her kitchen, years ago, not absorbing anything I said, she’s doing it again now. Only this time, she has me wanting to go with her.
“You can’t fucking dangle a carrot, Zo!”
“I’m not! I just don’t understand why we can’t have another baby. Now!”
“Because I’m not fertile, Elizabeth!” I find myself pointing my index finger animatedly toward the floor. “Because right after my son was born, I got a fucking vasectomy and banked my sperm! Because although I didn’t exactly know how to handle my situation with you back then, I damn sure knew I didn’t want to fuck around and accidentally get someone else pregnant and totally fuck up my plans for becoming a family with you!”
My screams are so harsh, my fucking throat hurts. This is not how I wanted to tell her.
“Oh, my god.” She’s shaking as her hands tent her face. Tears are spurting from her eyes and I itch to comfort her.
Shit! I can be such an ass!
“Zoey,” I cry out to her hoarsely.
“That’s how you knew Erika wasn’t carrying your baby.” I nodded my head, emotionally exhausted and bewildered. What is this going to do to us? “But you didn’t reveal this publicly. This is not how you were cleared.” She’s in a state of shock, her face horror-stricken. “You could have disclosed this and backed it up, but you didn’t.”
“Because it was always intended to be between you and me. Only Chesney and my practitioners know. This was supposed to be for us.”
“Stenton!” she gasps and leaps to me, wrapping her arms protectively around my waist.
“Please tell me this doesn’t harm us. Please say we can work through this, too.” I don’t recognize my voice.
I can’t lose her. I’ve spent too much time torturing us both.
“I don’t know.” Her small frame jerks against me. She’s silently sobbing. “We’re so screwed up, Stenton. We’re such a mess.”
I squeeze her into me with a fiercer grip.
~~~~~~~~~~
“So, what you got planned for tonight, bro? I’m tired as fidduck,” Alton yawns, stretching his arm across from me.