by Rose Francis
“Mom that’s not what you said and you know it!”
Catherine was stuck by what she saw in her son’s eyes, and in that moment, wished she hadn’t insisted on talking to Vivian.
“Kent…” she began sadly, but Kent turned around and left, ignoring her calling after him.
***
Just as he swung open the door to leave the house, Kent saw Kimberly heading up the path toward it.
He didn’t like the expression on her face—heavy, sad, and suddenly frightened.
He waited at the door, then quietly led her inside and to his bedroom, shutting his door behind them. They both sat on the bed.
“Kimberly, please tell me the truth.”
He reached out and tilted her face toward him with his finger, forcing her to look him in the eye.
“Kent…”
A tear rolled down her face.
He wiped it away then continued staring into her eyes, shifting slightly on his bed.
She watched him fearfully and it made his heart sink.
“Please tell me my mother is delusional Kimberly. Did you get together with me because you were already pregnant with Damien’s baby?”
Her eyes gave him his answer, confirming what his heart didn’t want to but his brain pieced together anyway.
“Is that why you were so eager to sleep with me? To make me and everyone else believe the baby was mine? Telling me you loved me, it was all a part of…”
“No Kent—I do love you, I really do!”
“Then surely you wouldn’t have done this—my mother is wrong.”
He searched her eyes again, hoping, waiting for her to make a liar of his mother, her revealing eyes, and his own brain. He wanted her to deny it, simply because he didn’t want the alternative to what they had been living—that which he thought was pure, honest love born out of an undeniable attraction. He wanted to remain in the world where Kimberly was his, and had come to him of her own heart, unable to fight her feelings for him any longer, that she loved him as he loved her, with every honest bone in her body.
“Kimberly? Please tell me it isn’t true.”
Her tears fell freely and generously now.
She sniffed.
“Kent listen—I love you, I do, and you have to believe that no matter what. But what your mom said…” She paused, looking at him tentatively, and he felt a shattering within him begin.
She looked away.
“Oh god Kent, what have I done?”
“Kimberly, what are you saying? It’s not true right? I mean finding out Damien was your brother just made it easier for you to come to me because you really wanted to all along...”
She looked up at him again.
“Yes! Oh Kent, I wanted to be with you so badly, but I was adamant about loyalty and fidelity—I couldn’t let you sneak in. But you did! You snuck in here...” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest above her heart. “But soon it was too late for anything,” she said, looking down again. “Kent, I never wanted to hurt you, but I…I needed to protect my baby.” She looked up slowly and kept holding his hand. “My baby with Damien.”
No more could Kent delude himself—the words had been said.
The whirlwind of emotion that had been toying with him since it finally hit him there was a possibility Kimberly could have lied to him about their relationship and his child had reached the point where the only thing he could do was something he had not done since his first day at boarding school: Michael Kent Davenport slid off his bed and onto the floor, his head falling into his hands, and he let himself cry. He cried as if he were the lonely, eight-year-old version of himself who finally realized it was possible for a mother to not only not love her children, but despise them through no fault of their own. He cried like he did every holiday for the next few years when Catherine did not send for him, did not even care to call him. And neither did his father, James.
His actions seemed to make a dam in Kimberly burst so they both ended up reduced to shaking masses of wet salt.
She reached for him, and he didn’t even have the fortitude to push her away.
Her embrace was not a comfort to him—he merely didn’t have space in his brain or heart to really take notice of her actions.
CHAPTER THREE
Soon Kent realized Kimberly was holding onto him as if for dear life.
She planted soft kisses on his cheek, his arm, his fingers.
Once Kent gathered himself, he looked into the widened brown eyes looking back at him openly and expectantly, with a hint of fear.
“Kimberly…” he began quietly, almost whispering.
“I’m here Kent,” she said, squeezing his hand.
He shook his head.
“Kimberly,” he said again, looking away, down at the floor. He didn’t know what else to say.
“Kent…” she whispered.
Then she got up from where she was, and came between his legs, kneeling in front of him, making their faces level. Her hands came up to his face, forcing him to look at her.
Looking him dead in the eye she said:
“Kent, I love you, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this, but I was doing what I thought best.” She let out a deep breath. “I was wrong and I’m really sorry Kent.”
Then she hugged him and he could feel spasms, as if she was crying again.
Her sniffs confirmed it.
Kent didn’t understand it, couldn’t believe it—all he wanted to do was put his arms around her and comfort her! She had finally released the burden she had been carrying around for months all by her tiny self and after the truth was out, she was terrified; her eyes now watched him in fear.
He almost smiled at that—what was she afraid of? That he would leave her?
In any case, he needed to process what he had just found out, figure out what this really meant for them, and he certainly couldn’t do it with her right there in the room with him—especially since, he realized in horror, his body started responding to the moment in a way he didn’t expect: he wanted to take her, right there and then, kiss her tears away as he made love to her slowly and as long as possible so she would know she was his and his alone, no matter what.
As he felt more of his negative emotional energy, the pain and anger, being converted to sexual energy, he called her name again.
She became alert, looking as if she dreaded what he would say next yet was impatient to hear it.
“Kimberly, I have to think okay? I don’t know what to do or say right now, and before I do or say something I might regret, you should leave. I just need some time alone.”
Kimberly sighed.
Was it a sigh of relief? Sadness?
“Okay,” she said, “I totally understand.”
She got up and started to retrieve her purse and coat and he got to his feet as well. After gathering her things, Kimberly started for the door but turned quickly and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.
“Kent!” she said, as if on the verge of tears again. “Kent, please…I do love you, you have to believe me!”
Again, she held him like she never wanted to let go.
He almost caressed her head and hugged her back before he caught himself, and kept his arms to his side, his body arched so she wouldn’t feel him hard against her, forgetting her growing belly already took care of that.
He could see her disappointment in his lack of reciprocation and he almost tried to make up for it by wrapping her in a bear hug, but he found the strength to stand his ground and keep his arms to himself.
Finally, she let go and gave him one last longing look before heading for the door.
As her hand touched the knob he heard himself call out: “Kimberly!” and she turned around so quickly her ponytail slapped her in the face.
“Yes Kent?” she said hopefully.
He looked down and said: “Nothing. Just…I’ll call you. Sometime. Soon.”
She nodded her head and left.
***
&n
bsp; Catherine heard her son coming down the stairs as she stuck her homemade cake in the oven, hoping it didn’t turn out misshapen this time. She noticed the red-rimmed, swollen eyes of her son as he headed for the refrigerator, and for the first time in her life felt a love so strong for her child that she wanted to destroy the cause of it in the most physical way possible.
“Kent,” she said gently, “I’m sorry.”
“About what mom?”
She sadly watched him attempt a smile, all the more pathetic because it made him look more broken.
“What are you sorry about?” he said. “It’s cool, everything’s cool. So Kimberly used me.” He shrugged. “So maybe she never really loved me to begin with. Big deal. Who believes in love anyway?”
Catherine couldn’t believe how much it pained her to see her son like this and she desperately wanted to ease the pain, but she didn’t know how.
“I’m sorry about my role in this too I guess—I only figured it out yesterday and agreed to give Kimberly time to tell you herself.”
He only looked at her.
“Well anyway. Kent honey, what have you two decided to do?”
“Us two?” He laughed a mirthless laugh. “Surely you jest mom. Kimberly makes all the decisions.” Then he sighed, face drooping a bit. “Frankly, I don’t know what there is to do.”
“Well, will she continue staying here with you?”
He looked thoughtful, as if he hadn’t really given any thought to their arrangement.
“I…”
“Because that would just be a bad idea.”
“Well…”
“Yes, Carl must miss his daughter so it’s best she fully move back in there—only for a little while honey, until you can sort out your head. She should get all her stuff out of here—I mean, you two have a lot to think about and it’s best to do it outside of each other’s hair right? No need for you to get caught up in reminders of her lying around.”
“Well yeah, I guess you’re right mom.”
“Of course I’m right.”
***
As Kent looked at his phone, wondering how to tell Kimberly to move her stuff out, or even if he wanted to, his cell rang.
He saw the caller ID.
“Kimberly?”
“Yes Kent. I’m sorry, I know you said you’d call later but I had an idea. I think I should completely move back in with my father for a bit—I mean, I know you need time and it would be totally weird for me to come there for stuff if I need anything and…”
“Is that what you want Kimberly?”
“Of course not! But this is what we need, right?”
“Don’t ask me! You trust your judgment right? I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
He hung up, relieved he didn’t have to ask her to remove all signs of herself, yet also mad she was making yet another decision for them.
***
Kimberly’s heart sank.
Angry Kent seemed to be emerging and she didn’t know if she could handle it. But she got out of the car, having never driven off, and went back to the house to retrieve her stuff.
She dreaded running into Catherine, couldn’t quite face anyone else about the situation just yet.
Luckily, she didn’t have a whole lot of belongings there since she hadn’t completely moved in, living sort of halfway between his place and her dad’s.
She knocked.
Kent opened the door, turned and went to the couch, staring ahead into space.
She tried to ignore the hurt she felt at his actions.
With Catherine nowhere in sight, she went upstairs and started packing.
As she neared the stairs, Kent suddenly ran up to help her.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve come earlier. Don’t bother with these, I’ll take them downstairs and to the car for you. And please ask your dad to help you get them out when you arrive. Just…just don’t try to lift anything, I mean, you’re pregnant after all.”
Kimberly watched the man she knew more than ever she wanted to be her husband take her belongings to her car.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was eight o’ clock p.m. when Kent decided to visit a bar.
He yelled for a scotch on the rocks, then turned and noticed a pretty brunette looking how he felt.
He smiled at her.
“You look like how I feel.”
She laughed.
“Well, I guess we’re both having a pretty crappy night,” she said.
He paused for a moment, then asked:
“What’s a cute girl like you doing looking so depressed?”
“What’s a handsome guy like you doing feeling so depressed?” she replied. Then she said: “I’m just kind of mourning the love of my life.”
“Oh I’m sorry...”
“No not like that.” She laughed again. “He’s not dead or anything. Just…just married the love of his life.” Her smile remained, but with a hint of bitterness.
“His loss though, right?” Kent replied.
Her smile lost its bitterness.
“Thank you. So what about you?”
“Me? I haven’t even wrapped my head around what happened to me yet. I certainly can’t talk about it.”
She pretended to frown.
“Not fair.” Then she winked at him, smiling. “But I’m sure it has something to do with the love of your life, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, downing his scotch.
She finished what looked like a long island ice tea.
“Well…”
“Kent,” he filled in.
“Kent—it was nice to meet you. Best of luck with the love of your life. Don’t let her marry someone else!”
She laughed an empty, but pretty laugh.
He smiled at her.
“I appreciate that…”
“Julia.”
“Julia. I wish you the best as well. It was certainly nice to meet you too. Misery loves company, right?”
She nodded her head, then swung off the bar stool and left the bar.
Clearly there was only one man for her.
Kent shook his head sadly.
Would he ever have a woman who felt that way about him?
***
The next night he returned to the bar, hoping to see Julia again but she wasn’t there. However, there was a blond at the bar who had been watching him since he entered and looked delighted when he sat next to her.
“Hello there,” she purred, not hiding her interest one bit.
“Hello,” he replied.
“You look like you need someone to show you a good time,” she said, smiling.
What was she, a hooker?
The thought must have showed on his face because she said quickly:
“I’m not that kind of woman! I just think you are incredibly sexy. And I’d really like to kiss you. Right now.”
Her boldness shocked him, although there was a point in his life such actions, and the reactions in general to the power he knew he had, were not surprising; in fact, he’d reveled in them, used them to his advantage.
She came towards him and he let her kiss him.
After several attempts at gaining full access to his mouth, she drew back and huskily whispered:
“You know this kissing thing—it’s kind of two-way.”
He looked into her blue eyes and said lightly:
“I just wanted to remind myself what it was like to be kissed by a whore.”
He caught her hand before it hit his cheek and held it firmly as he brought his face within an inch of hers:
“If this was two years ago, I would have had you beneath me in minutes.”
He let her hand go and she turned away, looking offended and flattered all at once, with no clue he found nothing at all special about her in any way.
If it was two years ago, he would have used her for a good time, then not remembered what she even looked like the next day.
He smiled bitterly to himself.
In all his encou
nters with the opposite sex, he never had a woman hit him the way Kimberly had the day he met her.
He’d been “in like” before, and he’d had many attractions, but the feeling he got when he saw Kimberly for the first time, behind the register of some coffee shop, was unlike any he’d ever had. He almost didn’t hear when Damien introduced her as his girlfriend.
He hadn’t imagined much when Damien mentioned her working as a barista while being a full-time student at the same college as them. And although Damien spoke favorably—even highly—of her, Damien also had a wandering eye. Kent figured maybe this girlfriend of his wasn’t much of a looker or was boring or had some sort of flaw that embarrassed Damien, making him put off introducing the two of them.
When the moment finally came, Kent almost wished Damien had continued keeping her away from him.
“Maybe this has happened to you,” he’d told his brother Elliott later, pacing, “and I don’t know if I can call it love at first sight or anything, but man, whatever this is, it’s strong. Like I got this instantaneous, intense crush—way more intense than anything I’ve felt before. And I didn’t ask for it, and I certainly didn’t see it coming. It was like it stuck its foot out in front of me and before I knew what was happening, I’d tripped and fallen.”
He’d stopped pacing and turned to look at Elliott.
“What do I do? Damien’s my friend for Christ's sake.”
Elliott shrugged.
“Not much you can do. Just keep away from her. Stay respectful.”
“Well of course, but I want to see her again. I feel like I have to. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Elliott was shaking his head.
“I can see you’re already in trouble. Back off bro, before it’s too late.”
“But how do I turn this off? I don’t know how to just pretend I never met her. Plus, you don’t understand—Damien’s my friend but he’s not exactly the most faithful and she doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve her...”
His brother whistled.
“Okay, first of all, none of your business. That’s their problem. As a couple. You had the misfortune of meeting her second, it’s best you let their relationship run its course; you need not be involved if things get messy so cool it. Now I know you’re not used to not getting some chick you want, but like you said yourself, she’s not just some chick. So Back. Off.”