by S. Ann Cole
He winced as he answered, “Eight months.”
The walls were closing in. I slowly walked over to his bed and lowered my ass down so my weak knees didn’t fail me. “Where does that leave us, Davi?”
His answer to this question would help me decide whether or not to tell him he would be a father. This was his big break, and I wouldn’t be the one to take that away from him. Not when I was the one who kissed ass to make it happen for him in the first place.
I wasn’t worried about me. I could do well on my own. Only a few months ago, I found out I was wealthy enough to live through five lifetimes without ever having to lift a finger. Davian didn’t know this.
I didn’t even have a dream right now, beyond Davian, that is. I was still trying to recover from my parents’ death, still trying to grasp the concept of life.
But this was his dream. He needed to live it.
“That’s easy,” he said with a shrug. “You’re coming with me. I told Stucco. Voiced my concerns. He reminded me we’d be touring with Ninety Miles, so we won’t be squeezed in some tiny tour bus. We’re talking mansion on wheels, Ally. Girlfriends are definitely allowed.”
Not pregnant girlfriends. “I can’t.”
“What?” He was looking at me like I’d just brutally snapped his puppy’s neck. “Why?”
“Because I’m nineteen and in college. I can’t just pick up and jump on a tour bus with you, Davi!”
I was angry. But it wasn’t at him. It was at myself for being stupid enough not to climb out of the pool that night and fetch a flipping condom. If it wasn’t for this stupid pregnancy, I could be packing right now to go ride out his dream with him, college be damned.
Davian moved to stand directly in front of me, glaring down, jabbing an accusatory finger in my face. “No, Ally. You’re not doing this again, you hear me? I was away from you for six months. I waited almost two years for you to admit you want me. We just got official. And now you expect me to just leave for another eight months without you?”
“This is your dream—”
“A dream I need you to be a part of!” he half-shouted. “You’re coming on that goddamn tour with me, Alina.”
I shot up and shouted back in his face, “I can’t go with you, okay?!”
“You better give me a damn good reason why, Ally, or I’m not getting on that plane tomorrow.”
Was he serious? He couldn’t do that! He couldn’t pass up on this opportunity.
Good reason. Good reason. Breaking the knocked-up news was decidedly out of the question now. So I blurted, “I made a deal to get you signed.”
He eyed me distrustfully. “What kind of deal?”
“Lion said if he got you signed, I’d have to sign with him.”
“For what?”
“Modeling.”
Davian’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “You want to be a model? Since when?”
“Of course, I don’t,” I snapped. “I did it for Ice Steam.”
Scrubbing his hands down his face, he turned and began pacing the room, the same anxious circles I’d been making before he walked in.
After a few deafeningly silent minutes, he stopped and turned to me, face serious, decision made. “I’m not going.”
And that’s precisely why I wouldn’t tell him about the pregnancy. He would kill his dreams.
“I’ve always wanted this,” he said, voice hoarse, “and I’m glad you went out on a limb for me, but I want you more than I want this. I can do without it. My trust fund alone is more than I’ll ever be able to spend. I grew up in the lifestyle. Dad’s a legend, remember? I have the natural passion for music, but I guess I just wanted to walk in his footsteps, to make him proud, to carry on his name. But it doesn’t mean I have to. And he’s not expecting me to, either. I choose you over the fame, Ally. I choose you over the dream. I’m not going.”
Feeling a subtle burning sensation behind my eyes, I closed them, knowing what the burn meant. Davian Hamilton was the only person who could ever make me vulnerable enough to show any kind of emotion, who could ever make me feel that burn.
However, now wasn’t the time for tears, now was the time to be the strong one, the smarter one. Because weeks ago, neither of us had been smart enough to use protection, and this was where that left us.
I locked my arms around his neck. “I know you think that’s what you want right now, but I’d rather you go, try starting this dream without me, rather than starting a dreamless life with me and end up resenting me in the long run. I’d rather you choose me after you’ve tasted your dream, not before. You can’t know what you love the most of two things unless you have tried both.”
“Don’t tell me what I fee—”
I pressed a finger to his lips to keep him quiet. “In addition to that, it’s not just your dream, it’s also the band’s. What, you’ve dragged them this far only to pull the rug from under their feet because of some girl? They’ll resent you. They’ll resent me. They’ll never forgive you. It’ll be the end of Ice Steam.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, Davi, you do.” I tipped up and kissed him. “You have to go.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he released a long, defeated sigh, reopened them, and nodded. “Okay…” Then he cupped my face, raw determination in his depths. “But you’ll wait for me, Ally. Got that? You’ll wait. For me.” He kissed me hard, crushing me to him, a tangible desperation in his touch. “You can’t be with anyone. You’re unavailable. You’re in a seriously committed relationship with Davian Hamilton.” His voice was breaking, pain leaking through the cracks. “If I get back and you’re with anyone, Alina, I promise you I’ll insert myself and rip.it.apart. Because you are Davi’s, you hear me? Davi’s.”
Taking me by surprise, he had me on my back on the bed before I could even blink, tearing my clothes off with an urgent need, as if needing somehow to prove to himself that I was his. We were both free of our clothing in just seconds. So desperate he was in this moment I could barely keep up with him.
As he pressed his head at my entrance, he gazed down at me through glossy eyes, a heartbreaking earnestness in his tone when he whispered, “Promise me you’ll wait for me.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
He pressed all the way into me then, knocking a gasp up my lungs. Burying his face into my neck, he said, “Now promise me and mean it.”
He didn’t see the single trail of tear that etched down the side of my face as I promised, “I’ll wait.”
We’ll wait.
“Last night on Late Night with Gildene, Jessica Stucco finally confirmed the month-long engagement rumors! It’s true, our sweetheart socialite is indeed engaged to Ice Steam’s vocalist, Davian Hamilton. ‘We wanted to keep it a secret for as long as we could until we had an official wedding date,’ Jessica told Gildene, ‘but I guess there are no secrets in L.A, huh?’
“Jessica further went on to give us a peek into the night she describes as ‘unforgettable’: ‘I had no idea! Davi’s a helpless romantic, he serenades me all the time, so I suspected absolutely nothing when he took me up to the top of the Empire State Building and—”
The TV went black. Powered off.
Saskia was in front of me, one hand on her baby bump, TV remote in the other. That’s if my blurred vision was accurate.
“You need to stop watching this, Ally.”
I stared right through her.
The entertainment report was three weeks old. Every day since the report was made, the engagement confirmed, I pulled up YouTube on the smart TV, searched for the report, and watched it over and over and over. As if, somehow, the report would magically say something different. Something hopeful. That the rumors had all been a lie. That my son’s father wasn’t engaged to another woman.
Saskia disappeared from in front of the TV. She always threw up her hands and got lost whenever she couldn’t get through to me.
Before I knew what was happenin
g, my lethargic body was flying forward, off the couch and crashing onto the coffee table. The table tipped over and I fell sloppily on my side.
Wincing at the fleeting pain in my side, I looked up. Saskia had flipped over the couch from behind. “That’s your official eviction from this couch. And if you don’t get your crap together, you’ll be evicted from this house, too.”
Dragging up off the floor, I glared, pointing a finger at her. “You’ve got some serious issues, woman!”
“I’ve got issues?” she shot back. “I’m not the wankstain who’s been moping around, living on a couch, and ignoring her own child for three weeks! Plus you bloody reek. Reek! At least take a shower and stop stinking up my house, yeah?”
“You know what, I’m just gonna get my own place,” I said, flouncing off. “I don’t need this shit.”
“Yeah, twelve-billion-dollar baby,” she called after me, “it’s about time you do that.”
Ignoring her, I stomped up to my room, knowing damn well I wouldn’t be moving out even if she ordered me to. JK and Saskia were my anchors, and even though I was wealthier than both of them put together, I still stuck to their shoes like old gum.
For the five years I’ve lived with them, I’ve grown to love them so hard and so deep it’s as if they’d always been there, always been in my life. And even though it had been a bit awkward at first, what with a secret crush I’d had on JK at the time, the second I met Davian, it was a matter of ‘JK who?’
That phase was over, and now he was like an irritating, no-nonsense big brother who threw around orders and a lot of F-bombs. Pissed me off sometimes, but I preferred taking orders from him instead of my legal guardian, my cousin, Chad, who straight-up scared the bejesus out of me.
When I was sixteen, my parents were murdered in cold blood in our own home. The killer had restrained me, their only child, locked me up, and let me live. Mom and Dad had named Chad as my sole guardian should anything happen to them.
Something did happen to them, so he’d showed up and, in his own detached way, helped me through it. I loved him, but was warily uncomfortable around him because he was so terrifyingly intimidating.
Some time later, he had to do some extensive traveling and refused to leave me on my own, so I was left with Saskia Day, who was his girlfriend at the time. I’d long since grown an unhealthy attachment to Saskia—she’s the coolest person I’ve ever met—so imagine the ebullience when he left me with her.
That’s where life as I knew it began.
Saskia so happened to be neighbors with Dave Hamilton, legendary retired rock star, with his daughter Kaydeen and son, Davian…
Davian. Who wanted me once and was relentless in his pursuit.
Davian. Whom I gave the hardest time, the longest chase.
Davian. Who deflowered me, knocked me up, went off on tour, and was currently engaged to his manager’s daughter.
Davian. Who pried my chest open, stole my heart, ran off with it and left me to die.
The pain was almost as lacerating as when my parents were taken from me, but I never cried when they died, so I’d be damned if I cried now over a broken heart.
Entering my messy bedroom, I hauled off my stained t-shirt and grimaced at the stench that emanated from my armpits. Whoowee, I really did stink to the high heavens.
Alright, time to put an end to this. Saskia was right, I couldn’t continue in this vein. Not when I had a one-year-old son depending on me.
I stripped, set the shower to scalding hot, and stepped inside.
Everyone thought it peculiar that I was losing my head over Davian’s engagement. No one seemed to understand. That’s because for the past year or so that Davian had been dating Jessica Stucco, I never seemed to care.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t cared, though. It was that I was a new mom who had a needy little boy to care about.
When Davian had left for the tour, we’d tried our best never to lose contact. We talked and texted each other at least three times daily. Our rule was, no matter what, we were to check in with each other before the day ended.
Until one day, Davian didn’t check in. Period. Calls, texts, video chats, everything abruptly stopped. No warning, nothing.
His number, when I rang it, went straight to voice-mail, and I left voice messages until his Inbox was full.
He never returned a call.
My first idea was to find out where the tour bus’ next stop was, hop on a flight and find out what the hell was going on. But Saskia was the first to remind me of the obvious: I was waddling with a seven month old fetus inside me.
I resorted to phoning Davian’s sister, Kaydeen, who had gone off to Julliard in New York. Kaydeen, my best friend, was reluctant to talk to me about her brother. She could assure me he was alright, said he called her every couple of days, but claimed she knew not the reason behind Davian shutting me out.
Whenever I gave her messages to pass on to him, and later inquired if she did as I asked, she’d respond in the affirmative, but never had a return message from him.
Nothing. He’d had nothing to say to me.
Eventually, I stopped calling Kaydeen. Cut her off completely. Because I detected she was lying to me, and best friends didn’t lie to each other.
Knowing there was nothing else I could do in terms of tracking Davian down without revealing my hard-kept secret, I ceased searching for answers and channeled all my focus and energy into having a healthy pregnancy. Stressing wouldn’t help.
One month after Jacob was born, rumors of Jessica Stucco—a famous socialite with the perfect nose, perfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect body, oh-so-perfy-perfect—and Davian Hamilton being an item started circling. Next it was the heartbreaking picture confirmations surfing the Internet, and the constant updates on them as a couple in the entertainment news.
Wasn’t a rumor. It was true. Davian hadn’t waited for me. Rather, he forgot I was waiting. Forgot I existed.
Ice Steam shot to the stars after that. Soared ahead of a ton of struggling rock bands and settled in a comfortable position right behind Ninety Miles.
Huge, famous, fast. Bright lights and big cities. Ice Steam was a big freaking deal.
Me and Jacob, mere shadows in the background.
Still, I never cried or showed that it hurt. Just slipped into denial mode to keep myself sane and to be the best mother I could.
The breaking point, however, was three weeks ago when Jessica Stucco confirmed the engagement rumors.
The facade, the walls, the tenuous strength, it all came crashing down.
Amazing how getting evicted from the couch, being forced to take a shower, put on clean clothes and cologne could turn one’s entire disposition around.
I felt like a new person with a new purpose, baptized and born again, when I reemerged from my bedroom.
Saskia was in the kitchen dicing fruits. She didn’t look up when I sat down across from her on one of the barstools at the island.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized after a few minutes of silence.
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know that, too.”
“So…you’re no longer mad at me?”
Setting down the knife, she looked at me then. “I’m not mad at you, Ally, I’m worried. Look, I know your pain. I’ve been there before. So take it from me when I say what you’re doing right now, drowning yourself in melancholic despair, will end in no good results. I’d like to tell you that Davi’s an arsewit and you should forget about him, but I know firsthand what it’s like to love someone so much you just can’t let go.” She paused, glanced down at the cutting board, sighed. “My honest opinion: if you can let go, let go. You’re young and blindingly gorgeous and set for life. You have no idea what could be waiting for you out there. The world is yours, reach out and take it. If Davian is meant to be yours, trust me, no matter the circumstances and how many years it takes, in the end, he will be yours.”
Picking up the knife again, she resumed fruit dicing. “And there’s the danger.”
Silence snuck in. Nothing but the sound of the knife against the cutting board.
I wondered sometimes whether she was disappointed in me getting knocked-up at nineteen and then making the dumbest decision of letting Davian go on tour without telling him about it.
Before Jacob, Saskia blew smoke up my ass a lot. Always letting me know she admired how strong, mature and sensible I was for my age, how hard I was to break, how much she respected me. Not adored, but “respected”.
When I broke it to her that I was pregnant, she was stoic. I never grasped how she really felt; if I’d failed her somehow.
But when cousin Chad heard it from JK, and he came huffing and puffing and blowing the house down, Saskia stood upfront and took the brunt of it all. Defending me to the very end.
Should I be candid, I’d confess my determination to remain strong throughout the last year and a half was not for me or Jacob, but for her. I didn’t want her view of me to change. I didn’t want to lose her respect. I wanted to show her I was still mature and sensible and hard to break. Because being idolized by my idol was the biggest confidence boost anyone could ever ask for.
Since the pregnancy news, though, the compliments dwindled. The occasional “love you” still came, but there was no more smoke up my ass.
Even though she was standing right there in front of me, I missed her.
My phone buzzed:
XX: This is message #105 that has gone unanswered. Have I offended you in anyway?
“JK called with an update or something?” I asked Saskia, pushing my phone aside. “Because this has got to be the longest ice-cream trip ever.”
“He called,” she confirmed. “And when I told him you still stunk like a sewer, he said he was taking Jacob with him to the studio and I should make sure you ‘have your shit sorted’ by the time he gets back.” She pointed at me with the knife. “You must’ve known it was only a matter of time before he goes bonkers on you.”