by Colbie Kay
Exasperated, she says, "Go after her."
I look at her incredulously. "What?"
She throws her arms in the air. "Go. After. Her. You left her once, now make up for it. Chase her, fight against her, do whatever you have to do to get her back. But the one thing you don't do is fucking give up. Now go!"
I tread down the hallway, checking every door until I find her sitting behind a desk. Her hands are covering her face and her shoulders are shaking. She's crying. My heart sinks to my stomach because it's my fault she's hurting. My fists clench at my sides. All I want to do is pull her into my arms, but I can’t. I gave up that privilege when I decided to leave her. Still, after all this time, I'm breaking her more than I already did. I don't know what's worse, leaving her in the first place or seeing her destroyed because I showed back up. Maybe I should have just let her go last week. Maybe I shouldn't have come here to see her that night, but if I hadn’t, would I have ever found out that I have a son?
My eyes blur. "I'm sorry, Daph."
She drops her hands, her teary gaze connects with mine. "I thought I couldn't shed any more tears over you, but I guess I was wrong." Her lips purse, she shrugs and tries wiping them away from her cheeks, but it only smears her black makeup worse.
"Can I sit?" I ask, pleading with my eyes.
Her shoulders lift again without response. She didn't say no, so I sit in a chair opposite her desk. "Did you go to art school?" She shakes her head but keeps her eyes down as she fidgets with her fingers. "Why?" Maybe I can keep a casual conversation with her. If I keep it light, we can deal with the heavy shit later.
Her eyes snap up. "Because two weeks after you left, I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't just up and leave for New York at eighteen, pregnant, and alone. I had to figure out a new plan, a new life, and one where I could take care of a baby. So, I did an apprenticeship and got my license for tattooing." She shrugs. "At least, I still get to do art."
Our plan was to go to New York. I would go to college while she went to art school. We would get married and then start our family. I blew it all to hell. I’m proud of her for still somewhat following her dreams, but she was destined for so fucking much more.
I nod in understanding. “For what it’s worth, and I’m not sure my opinion matters much, but I’m proud of you. Do my parents know, about him?"
"His name is Zane, and yes, I couldn't really hide it once I started showing." I nod, but an unknown fury starts to build. "How long have you been back?"
She asked me that last week and I didn't answer. I don't want to now, but she has a right to know. "A while."
Her brow cocks. "How long is a while?"
"Seven years," I deadpan.
She slams her hand down on the desk. "Jesus, Devon! Seven years and not one fucking word to me or your parents?" She furiously shakes her head with a sneer on her lips. "I can't do this. You need to go. It was bad enough when I thought maybe a couple of years, but seven!”
She stands, walks to her door, and holds it open.
I join her at the door and tower over her. "I'm not giving up. I'll be back tomorrow, the next day, and every fucking day after until you talk this shit out with me. And then, I want to meet my son." I look fixedly into her gray eyes, letting her know just how serious I am.
"Hey, babe." My eyes blaze with anger as I turn my head toward the voice. His eyes narrow on me. "What's going on here."
"Nothing. He was just leaving." Daphne moves away from me and over to the asshole that interrupted us. He bends his head down to kiss her. Rage burns deep inside of me as I push past the two of them. I storm down the hall and throw open the door to go outside. She's fucking moved on! But Jacey's right, I can't give up. Her and Zane are mine, and I'll fight for what's mine. I get into the passenger seat of the Tahoe and stay quiet all the way back to the compound.
I sit at the bar, peeling the label off my beer bottle, thinking over today with Daphne.
"Hey." Mullins’ voice pulls me from my thoughts. He sits down on the stool next to mine. "You doin' okay? I haven't seen you much since I got here last week."
I look down. "I don't know, man. I went to see Daphne today and it didn't go so well." I turn, meeting his eyes.
Understanding plays in his features. "The same Daphne you told me about?"
"Yeah, and now, I found out we have a son together."
He whistles. "That's tough."
"I gotta try and make it right." I hang my head. "I didn't ask before, but how's your wife?"
He sighs heavily. "Not good. It was hard after I got back. Neither of us adjusted well, and we fought all the time. So, I decided it would be better if I just left."
I take a pull from my beer. "Don't let it go. She stood by you all these years. It takes time, but your marriage is worth fighting for."
He smirks, "Sounds like you should take your own advice. Pining over the girl you've loved all these years, but you’re sitting here drowning your sorrows in a bottle."
"Fuck you." I laugh.
"Sorry, dude, I'm strictly chickly, but maybe if you put the “D” on her, she'd be yours again." He jokes and punches my shoulder. "I'm outta here for the night."
"See ya'." I finish my beer and head to my room for the night.
I follow Audrey out to the lobby, my heart races knowing he’s standing out there. My body anxiously shakes, my hands tremble, and butterflies swarm in my belly.
Audrey walks behind her desk, leaving me alone and vulnerable to the pull I feel toward him. I stand stock still in a hypnotic state, staring at his smoldering blue eyes. I can’t let him have this effect on me. I narrow my eyes and fold my arms over my chest. "What are you doing here?" I try to keep my tone steady and even, instead of giving away the fact that I’m a mix of happiness and fear that he’s returned.
Jacey answers for him. "I brought him." My eyes are glued to his.
He chimes in, "I want a tattoo."
Does he really want one, or is this a ploy to get me to spend time with him? "You can book with Writer when he gets back."
Without hesitation, he says, "No, I want you to do it."
That answers my question, and I’m not ready. Giving up the battle of who will look away first, I spin, tears brimming, and I need to get back into my office to cry in peace. I say over my shoulder, "I can't."
I hear Devon and Jacey talking as I trek down the hallway, but I don’t pay attention to what they’re saying. I just need to get inside my office and then the tears can fall.
I quickly close my office door, rush over to my chair and sit. I bury my face in my hands as the tears begin to cascade down. Sobs rack my body. How can someone cry so many tears over one person?
I hear pounding footsteps, doors opening and closing. I can only hope it’s Audrey, but my heart and gut tell me otherwise. I ignore the fact that my office door opened and closed. I ignore the shivers running through my body because he’s standing there, watching me cry hysterically.
"I'm sorry, Daph."
Dropping my hands, I meet his gaze. "I thought I couldn't shed any more tears over you, but I guess I was wrong." My lips purse and I shrug as I try wiping tears from my cheeks. When I pull my hands away, they’re covered in black makeup. I’m sure I look like a fucking mess right now, but I find a napkin and wipe my hands.
"Can I sit?" He asks, his eyes pleading.
My shoulders rise and fall without response.
"Did you go to art school?" I shake my head as it hangs down, and my fingers start to fidget. "Why?” Why is he asking questions that don’t even matter?
My eyes cut to his. "Because two weeks after you left, I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't just up and leave for New York at eighteen, pregnant, and alone. I had to figure out a new plan, a new life, and one where I could take care of a baby. I did an apprenticeship and got my license for tattooing." I shrug. "At least, I still get to do art." The plans that we had, the dream of New York and everything else, died the day he left and were buried when I found
out I was pregnant. I had to grow up, figure shit out, and do what I needed to for me and my baby.
He nods with understanding. “For what it’s worth, and I’m not sure my opinion matters much, but I’m proud of you. Do my parents know about him?" He’s proud of me? My stomach knots up. I don’t know how to feel hearing those words. I’m proud of him too for going and fighting for our country, but why did he disappear? Why couldn’t he answer my letters or phone calls?
Something inside me is irked that he doesn’t know his own son’s name. Pulling strength from deep within myself, I muster up a little of my sassy attitude. "His name is Zane, and yes, I couldn't really hide it once I started showing." He nods but stays quiet. "How long have you been back?" I repeat the question I asked last week. The one he steered clear of. It’s important for me to know.
He looks down, and in a hushed tone replies, "a while."
My brow arches. "How long is awhile?"
"Seven years," he deadpans.
I slam my hand down on the desk. "Jesus, Devon! Seven years and not one fucking word to me or your parents?" I furiously shake my head with a sneer on my lips. "I can't do this. You need to go. It was bad enough when I thought maybe a couple of years, but seven!” My head swims with disbelief, rage burns in my belly, and I’ve had enough. I stand, storm to my door, and hold it open for him to get the hell out.
He gets up without argument but stops in front of me towering over me. "I'm not giving up. I'll be back tomorrow, the next day, and every fucking day after until you talk this shit out with me. And then I want to meet my son.” My skin pebbles from his close proximity and I can practically feel the electricity shooting volts between us, but I need to ignore it. Just as I’m about to say he has no right demanding anything of me, Brad appears.
"Hey, babe." He stares between the two of us. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing. He was just leaving." Grateful for the distraction and the overwhelming feeling of needing Devon gone, I move away from Devon by my office door and over to Brad standing in the hallway. He bends his head down, kissing me and I let him.
Devon pushes past Brad and me. I immediately feel bad. I feel guilty for walking into Brad's arms and letting him kiss me in front of Devon. But I needed Devon to leave. I couldn't handle being around him a second longer. It's too hard…too much. "What was that about?" I peer up at him. "You've been crying." His brows dip down and he glances toward the door. "You didn't call last night."
I sigh. "We need to talk." He steps into the office after me and I shut the door. Biting the inside of my cheek, I think about what to say first. Maybe I should just spit it out. Deciding straight to the point will be best, I start, "I'm sorry, Brad, but I can't be in a relationship with you anymore."
His eyes riddle with confusion, anger, and disbelief. "Why? This have anything to do with the asshole that just left?"
I nod and drop my eyes to the floor. "That's Zane's father."
He laughs without amusement. "Thought Zane's father was out of the picture?"
I continue to stare at the ground. "He was until last week. But this is about you and me. It's just not working out with us, and it's not fair to you if I lead you on.” I want to show him I’m sorry, so I bring my eyes to his. “Truth is, I'll never be able to give you my heart because I gave it away a long time ago and I never got it back. Seeing Devon again has brought up a lot of feelings I thought I’d buried, but apparently not." That's not exactly the truth, I've never buried any of my feelings for Devon. I've thought about him every single day since he left. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t loved him, but there is so much pain and anger inside of me, and I have so many unanswered questions.
Brad's eyes burn with fury. He shrugs his shoulder with a sneer. "You wasn't nothing but a piece of ass anyway," He hisses at me.
My sincerity is gone. I laugh. "Yeah? Well, my pussy must be golden if I have you clinging so hard I can't take a shit without you knowing. Get the fuck outta my office."
"Fuck you, ya’ fat ass bitch!" He stomps to the door, throws it open then starts stomping down the hall.
I walk to the door and yell after him. "You liked this fat ass when you were grabbing a hold of it and screaming to God after two minutes, you weak, limp dick, motherfucker!" I slam the door with an overexaggerated huff, walk over to my chair, and plop down.
Laughing out of the craziness that just happened, I shake my head. That went south real fucking quickly, but I'm glad it's done now. This is why I don't do relationships, and this is why, after Devon, I vowed I would never need a man…I would never rely on one either. I will take care of myself and Zane and I don't need a man to be there. Outside of my close-knit circle, I'm the only one I can count on. I can't depend on a man because at any point, he could walk away, and I'll never put my son through that or do it to myself again.
Audrey comes flying into my office with her hand over her mouth in a fit of laughter and sits down on a chair across from me. "Oh, my God!" She blows out a breath and cackles some more. "I wish I had popcorn for that. You told him he was a weak, limp dick, motherfucker! Best. Shit. Ever."
I laugh. "He called me a fat bitch. I know I'm no supermodel or anything, but—"
Audrey cuts me off. "Shut up! You're gorgeous! What happened with Doc?"
"I can't tattoo him, Auds." I shake my head. "Have you ever loved someone and not seen them for a long time, but when you do, your whole body feels overloaded with emotions?" My eyes bore into hers.
It's her turn to shake her head, and with a stoic expression she says, "No, but Hunter is the only man I’ve ever loved."
"That's what it's like when I see him. My hands shake, my heart rate speeds up, and my whole world crumbles around me except for him. He's all I see." I look down when tears start to pool. "I have to have a steady hand to tattoo someone, and I can't do that with him when I lose all control of myself." I blink back the threatening tears and meet her eyes once again.
I see the pity, the sympathy. "Was he like, your high school sweetheart or something?"
I grin. "He was so much more than that. And he's Zane's father."
Her mouth gapes open, eyes growing wide. "Seriously?"
I nod and release a deep breath of air. "Yeah."
She covers her mouth with her hand and mumbles, "Oh, Daphne."
I look at the clock on my phone. "Shit, I have to go get Zane."
"Clean your face first, girl. You look like a raccoon." She chuckles and hands me a few napkins from the holder on my desk.
I rush around my office grabbing my things and the napkins before running out to my car. Looking in the rearview mirror, I clean off my ruined makeup the best I can before driving to Zane's school.
I walk to Zane's bedroom door and lightly tap. I open it slowly, peeking my head in. "Hey, Z, you ready for bed?"
"Yeah." He turns his head in my direction, already covered up with his blankets.
I walk in the rest of the way to the edge of his bed. "Goodnight. I love you." I run my hand over his dark brown Mohawk and bend down, kissing his forehead.
"I love you too, Mom." Standing up straight, I get ready to leave when his words stop me. "You were crying again today."
I tilt my head to the side and my brows knit. "How do you know I was crying?"
He shrugs. "Your makeup. And you've been crying at night."
With a heavy sigh, I sit on the edge of his bed. "I didn't know you could hear me."
"It's because of my dad, isn't it?" His expression is knowing. I nod. "That was him, wasn't it? Outside your work?"
My eyes widen for a second, but I try to cover my surprise. "How do you know that?" This boy is too smart for his own good. But I'll never lie to him.
He fidgets with his blanket. "I've seen pictures at Grandma and Grandpa Mayfield's. I look like him."
I give him a small smile. "Yeah, you do."
"Did he come see you today? Is that why you were crying?"
I nod. "Yeah."
"Can I meet him?"
His eyes shine with hope.
My heart tears in two. On one side, I would never keep Zane from Devon, but the other side, I have to protect my son. If Devon isn't planning on being in his life, I don't want Zane to get hurt. I need to know that Devon plans on being in his life before I can agree to anything.
"We'll see. Okay? Get some sleep now." I kiss his forehead once more.
This time he's the one that nods.
Shutting his bedroom door behind me, I go to my room and change into a t-shirt and pajama pants. I lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and go back in time.
It's been two weeks since Devon left in the middle of the night. We fought the night before because I didn't want him to leave and I ran away from him, but he could have given me the chance to say goodbye. Couples fight, they make-up. He could have waited and let me at least have one last moment with him, but he didn't. He ran away.
Over these last two weeks, I've been angry with him. I've been a crying mess and a zombie walking through the halls, going to class. My friends say I should just get over it because what he did was a douche move and it's not worth me being upset, but they don't get it. They don't understand. Devon wasn't just the guy I dated in high school, he was my best friend, my soul, my everything.
I've also been sick, like vomiting my guts out sick. My boobs hurt so freaking bad, and I swear they have gotten bigger. And…I'm late. Missing my period, I just thought it was because of stress, but the other symptoms including sensitivity to certain smells, have me thinking it's something entirely different.
Shutting my bedroom door, I lay my backpack down on my bed and pull the brown bag out. Reaching inside, I get the box and read the instructions on the home pregnancy test.
I race to the bathroom with the box tucked under my shirt so my mom won’t see me or the test. When I’ve closed the bathroom door, I open the box and get the test ready. Sitting on the toilet, I hold the little stick between my legs and hope that I don’t pee on my hand.