I nod, unable to give her a verbal answer. It’s not good, it’s inconvenient and something I don’t want with her. Hell, until I saw what a real family was like I didn’t want kids, period. It’s my wife who should be having them, not my ex. But that’s not the baby’s fault and he or she will never know my feelings on the situation.
“Anyway, you’ll have to bond with the baby, so I figured that will start in the hospital and then we’ll go home to my place. I think it’s important that the baby know both of us, so you’ll stay there.”
My insides turn as she rambles on. I sit here, listening to her tell me about her fantasy world. Only in her mind does something like this work.
“I figure that you’ll spend three to four nights at my place. This way you’re always there for our baby.” She smiles as if this is the most amazing plan ever. By the time she’s done talking, I’ve slouched in my chair and pulled my muffin apart.
“You know that won’t work, Jules.” I sit up and push my coffee out of my way. “I have a wife who expects me home every night and that is where I plan to be. I also expect my wife to be able to bond with the baby as well so when it’s my days and nights to have the baby, he or she will come over to my house and bond with Joey and me.”
Jules leans forward, squinting her eyes. “How many times have I told you that she is not allowed anywhere near my child?”
“Too many to count. How many times do you think I’ve given a shit about what you’ve said about her? None. You don’t get to set rules and unreasonable expectations on me, Jules. If this is my child, I will have shared custody and Joey will be in their life.”
“If?”
This the first time I’ve questioned whether or not the baby is mine. From the time she told me that she’s pregnant I’ve believed it’s my baby. I’ve let Joey plant doubt in my mind about me being the father.
“I want a paternity test, Jules.”
Her mouth drops open and she lets out a gasp. “You think I would lie to you?”
“Yes. I think your actions during and after the show speak volumes about your character. I also can’t recall the last time we slept together so that part is a little fuzzy.”
“It’s not safe for the baby, to do it during my pregnancy.”
I nod, not knowing if she’s telling the truth or not. “Well, I guess until then we have nothing to talk about.” I go to stand, but she clamps her hand down onto my wrist.
“Josh, I would never lie to you. I know the things I did were underhanded but I was heartbroken. It should be me wearing your ring, not her. I don’t believe you love her. Not like you love me.”
Sitting back down, I face her. She doesn’t let go of my hand and I don’t want to make a scene so I let it stay. “That is where you’re wrong, Jules. Joey … she’s everything that I never knew I was missing. From the moment I kissed her on stage, I knew I was in trouble. We have a magnetic pull and it’s constantly drawing me to her. I can’t be away from her.”
“You told Rob you were getting an annulment after the show.” Her voice breaks and her eyes well with tears.
“That was the plan, but there was no way. I fell in love with her before I could even stop it.”
“But you love me.”
“I may have thought I did, and at one time it was probably true, but I haven’t for a long time, Jules, and you know that. Things have never been the same since Bronx came into the picture. You chose to confide in him. You let him into our relationship. You did that. Not me. Joey isn’t coming between us because there’s nothing there. My heart, as much as I wanted to deny it, was open for her. I know this is hurting your feelings, but you need to realize that she’s not going anywhere. She’s not.”
With that I get up and leave her at the table. Over the years I’ve consoled her, been her shoulder to cry on and her doormat. All of that ends here. It ends now.
Once I’m outside, I text Joey to let her know I’m on my way home after I stop at Blaze. I love typing that sentence: on my way home. Even in the short time that we’ve owned the house, she’s made it ours. Her mom sent a slew of photos to us from the time we were there and Joey has framed and place them strategically around our house.
I know that she’s not thrilled about the baby, but I have to commend her—the other day when I came home she was in one of our spare bedrooms taping paint to the wall for the baby’s nursery. I realized in that moment I love her more and more each day. After I made love to her that night, I promised to give her a baby if that is what she wanted. I know she wants to be a mom, but now it’s all up to her.
It’s unrealistic to think that all of Josh’s movies can be filmed on a back lot or on location in Los Angeles, and if I could have one wish that would be it because having him home every night has been a blessing. His filming schedule is hanging from the refrigerator. He put it there so we could plan dinner, or when we can meet up for lunch.
In the last month, everything has changed. We’re domesticated and it feels odd, but it’s a welcoming feeling that I’m falling in love with him more and more each day. We bought another car and he hired a cleaning service to come in once a week after I told him I clean a room a day to keep on top of the house. The house is enormous and too big for the two of us, even the three of us when the baby arrives.
Jules is still adamant that I have nothing to do with the baby and her court ordered paternity test went unanswered. I told Josh not to pressure her. It’s her body and if she doesn’t want to stick a mile-long needle into her abdomen then that should be her choice, even though I’m having a lot of reservations that she’s even pregnant.
She shows up here randomly, takes shots at my character and expects me to wait on her. Her demands are never met, though, as Josh is always having to remind her of her place in our lives. But I’ve watched her when she’s here and she’s never rubbing her belly. Maybe it’s just me and the copious amounts of Lifetime movies I’ve watched, but I never see her touching her stomach or asking Josh to feel the baby kick. He’s even mentioned that at night when we’re lying there and his hand is resting on my abdomen. His thumb will move back and forth along my skin, reassuring me that he wants us to have a child. I do, too, but not now. Part of me questions if he’s only telling me this because of Jules. I want to ask him, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Besides, he has enough on his plate. Josh doesn’t need two screaming babies in the house with everything that is going on.
“What are you doing today?” Josh comes out of the closet, dressed in shorts and a tank top. My mouth waters at the sight of his biceps. There’s a massive tattoo covering his shoulder and disappearing under his shirt. It’s airbrushed for his movie, but that hasn’t stopped me from pretending it’s real. He’s also growing, or maintaining facial hair. I’ve never been a huge fan of beards, but on him it’s fucking sexy and I’m climbing him like a tree every night.
I close my eyes and count to ten, hoping to ward off the instant throbbing I feel for him.
“Going out with Rebekah.”
Since coming back to L.A., we’ve spent time with Bronx and Rebekah. They come over for dinner, we go to their place, or we go out. While Rebekah and I have grown closer, Josh and Bronx are still pissing on each other for dominance, but they’re at least cordial with each other.
Josh crawls onto the bed, hovering over me. He’s already been reprimanded for being late and since then the studio decided to start sending a car for him. They figured if there were someone waiting, he wouldn’t be late. They were wrong. My husband is insatiable.
“Where are you going?” He kisses my neck, tickling me with his beard.
“Shopping.” I giggle, trying to get away from him, except he straddles me, pinning me between his legs.
“What are you buying me, something sexy, right?” He pulls the sheet down and cups my breasts before his fingers tweak my nipples.
“You’re going to be late.”
“I want you to be late.”
“What?” I gasp as h
is tongue circles my nipple.
“I think you know what I mean.” I do, but I’m more focused on the fact that the sheet I had covering my naked body is now pushed below my waist. The subtle hints aren’t lost on me, but the timing isn’t right. The drama that would ensue from us getting pregnant now would be too much to handle. The constant ‘you treat your child better than you treat ours’ would get tiring and the last thing I want is for Jules to use this baby against him. I know he’s going to be a great dad. I also know he’s been having conversations with my dad in regards to parenting. That alone is a huge step for Josh.
I look at the clock briefly, seeing that Josh is out of time. His driver will be here any second and he only waits a minute before he’s ringing our doorbell. It’s not only one ring and wait; it’s the constant jab that makes the bell go off repeatedly.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I tell him, reaching into his shorts. The second my hand comes in contact with his shaft, his eyes roll back and his hips thrust, creating some friction.
He shimmies out of his shorts and boxers, letting his erection free and removing my hand. I adjust quickly, pulling my legs out from under him and spreading wide so his access to me is easy.
“Better make it quick, cowboy.”
Smirking, Josh pats my clit with the head of his penis. “Maybe I want to tease you, make you suffer the way you make me suffer.”
“I always give in.”
“Not always,” he says, slipping into me. “Sometimes you make me chase you, work for it.” He pulls out, leaving me with a void. He’s teasing, tormenting me. I’m worked up and he knows it. When he enters again, it’s hard and eager, and suddenly my legs are up over his shoulders and he’s pushing me forward.
“Fuck.” I reach for any part of him: his ass, his arms, and even his side, anything that I can dig my fingers into for leverage.
“That’s what I’m doing.” He grunts and reaches for our headboard, using that to his advantage. The tightness builds quickly with the urgency of our situation. “Do you want to come?” he asks.
“Yes.” I pant, my breathing labored as the familiar stirring starts to increase. His thumb presses down on my throbbing clit and I buck, desperately wanting more friction.
“Ah, Joey,” he moans as my orgasm moves through my body. He moves faster, harder, and I take it, all of it.
“Josh,” I whisper his name as he releases, grunting through the aftershocks that rock through our bodies.
“Fuck work,” he says, falling off to the side. His shorts are barely below his ass, making him look like a horny teenager trying not to get caught by his girlfriend’s dad.
“You say that every day.”
“And I mean it every day.”
The doorbell rings again; the loud annoying sounds grates on my nerves. “Fuck it,” getting up off the bed, he pulls his shorts back up, “I’m going to work with your scent all over me.”
I give him a look and he smirks. “I love the smell of your pussy, so it’s all good.” He kisses me quickly and tells me that he loves me before rushing down the hall. I hear him faintly tell the driver good morning before the front door shuts.
“Do you like this one?”
I go over to where Rebekah is standing next to a white crib. It’s pretty, but girlish. Our shopping adventure has landed us at a baby boutique. I’ve been eyeing this place for a while now, but haven’t had the courage to go in. The baby is going to need things at our house, but deep down I don’t want to buy the things I want my future child to have. I know it’s selfish, but I want my son or daughter to have that special crib. I know I’m going to step mom hell.
“I really should wait for Josh. He should be picking this out, not me.”
Sighing, Rebekah pulls me into her arms. The hug is friendly and needed. “Bronx doesn’t think the baby is Josh’s.”
“I know, he’s told me. Josh says she wouldn’t lie about it, though, and the way she’s been acting … I don’t know. I question whether she’s really pregnant.”
“Hasn’t Josh gone with her to an appointment or seen her sonogram?”
I shake my head. “He’s asked, but there’s always an ultimatum that goes with each request so he doesn’t push her.”
“Like what?”
We continue to browse through the store, my fingers touching over the soft fabrics used for blankets and clothes.
“She wants him to spend the night, all the time. Or go over to her place. When he says no, she withholds information about the baby and her pregnancy. She’ll go on rants to him about how she’s all alone, how I ruined her life and it will be a cold day in hell before she lets me hold her baby.”
“But you let her into your house, Joey, why do you do that?”
Shrugging, I look away. Rebekah is a rarity in Hollywood according to Josh. She teaches Sunday school and has Bronx going to church twice a week. They don’t party, unless they’re at a friend’s house, and she hardly ever drinks. I used to think her relationship with Bronx was all for the cameras and that her and Gary would end up together, but that’s not the case. Sure, Gary wants her, but she’s devoted to Bronx and their marriage.
“To keep the peace, I guess.”
“Are you with her all the time when she’s there?”
I shake my head. “No, she uses the bathroom. I don’t follow her in there.”
“I would,” she mumbles before changing direction to look at the toys.
The thought sickens me that Jules would do something in my house that would hurt me, or even Josh. Maybe Rebekah is right and I’ve been too trusting of her. Maybe Josh has been as well.
As soon as Rebekah and I part ways I decide to head home, instead of going to the gym. When I step inside, my senses are heightened. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but whatever it is needs to jump out and wave its hands for me.
Only one of the spare bedrooms has a bed and that room is right off the garage. I go in there and look over everything and see nothing out of place. I don’t remember a time when she was gone longer than a few minutes, but I also don’t remember tracking her time. I’ve been trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.
I go into the room that we’ll be using for the baby’s nursery. The paint samples I had taped to the wall are on the floor. I can’t imagine she’d take them down. What purpose would that serve?
All the bathrooms are checked, but without knowing what I’m looking for I can’t be for certain she hasn’t done anything.
The last room I check is our bedroom. My stomach drops at the thought of her being in here. The only thing I find out of place is the wedding photo on Josh’s nightstand is turned backwards. I right it and wonder how long it’s been like that.
Walking into my closet I roam over everything I have in there. It’s mostly clothes with a few boxes of pictures that I haven’t had a chance to go through yet. The garment bag that holds my wedding dress is there, visible for anyone who walks in. I know Josh wouldn’t peek, but would she?
My heart drops as I start to pull the zipper down. I pray that Rebekah is wrong, but what if she isn’t? What if I’ve been letting the devil play in my house? When the zipper reaches the bottom I push my hands inside the plastic and push it off the hangers.
I gasp and tears immediately take over my vision. My beautiful Cinderella dress is tattered and ripped to shreds. The beadwork on the bodice is pulled apart and the tulle is gone.
“Oh my God, she did this,” I say out loud to my empty house. Bending down, I pick up the scraps of fabric and let them fall through my fingers. Beneath it all I find a stack of photos. Thumbing through them, the contents of my stomach stir. The pictures are of Jules on my bed, in my shower, and of her with Josh. There are numerous photos of Josh and Jules, sitting next to each other, taken inside this house when I’m not home or not in the room. He’s smiling for the camera. Why?
I rush to the bathroom and expel my lunch. This woman is nothing but trouble in our lives and he continues
to feed into her twisted reality. After rinsing my mouth, I trudge back to my closet for more torture, pausing at his. On his top shelf is a box that he keeps articles about himself in. I pull it down and open it.
My hand covers my mouth when I pick up the first one. It’s about Josh and Jules going into a doctor’s office. The picture attached shows them embracing. How did I miss all of this? Am I that blind that I can’t even recognize when my husband is cheating on me?
I go back to the living room and grab my phone, dialing Bronx’s number. He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Is he cheating on me?”
“Josh? No, you know I’d tell you if he were. What’s going on?”
“I found … I … oh God, he’s been seeing her Bronx.”
“Don’t do anything, I’ll be right over.”
Bronx hangs up, but the damage is done. Everything is in black and white, printed for my viewing pleasure. My husband is a liar. Everything that I’ve been wishing for with him, he’s been doing and lying to me about it all.
When the driver pulls in, Bronx’s car is in my driveway. I groan at the sight of it. I know Joey is friends with the Taylors, but I can only take so much of them. I don’t care if she hangs out with Rebekah, but Bronx is another story.
I slam the door in frustration and the driver pulls away. I didn’t even give him a chance to get out and open my door. After a long day of filming the last thing I want to do is deal with Bronx.
“Joey,” I holler, slamming the door for effect. I want her to know I’m pissed. She should’ve texted me to give me a heads up that they’re going to be here. I enter the living room, half expecting the windows to be open and to find them outside, but instead I’m met with Bronx sitting on my couch with a mess of something on the coffee table.
“Where’s Joey?”
“Nice to see you, too.” He doesn’t move from my couch. In fact, he crosses his leg over his other as if he’s welcome to stay.
“Where’s Joey?” I ask again.
He shakes his head and sighs, pissing me off even more. My day was utter shit and I just want to crawl into bed with my wife and forget everything.
Twisted Reality (Blind Reality #2) Page 13