by C C Monroe
“Gwen?” Her scared eyes look up and immediately she disentangles herself from him, looking guilty.
“What’re you doing here?” she asks with a nervous twitch in her voice.
“Getting coffee, it is a coffee joint,” I retort sarcastically.
“Besides the obvious, Shayla?” she spits back.
“This is Shayla? The one who’s been getting in the way?” the brunette man sitting next to Gwen says, looking me over before turning his attention to her.
“Not now, David.”
David—it has a name and what the hell does he mean, getting in their way? My eyes widen and I choke on a laugh, I don’t know what the hell she’s up to, but when I get home this shit ends tonight. I’m done with her, and I need Trey to know all about her and her untrusting behavior. I bend over the table, placing my items in front of me.
“What the hell is he talking about, Gwen?” I ask, giving back as much attitude and disdain as she is. I keep imagining throwing my hot coffee in her face. I’m not a violent person, but this woman can make me see red easily.
“None of your business, and I thought we agreed that I wouldn’t let your secret out if you didn’t butt in?” Slamming my fist on the table, ready to call her out for being so stupid, Trey knows about the PCOS, she has nothing on me anymore. But I stop, growing smart. If I tell her, she’ll hide herself better, keep her secret further hidden. Keeping my current upper hand, I swallow back my pride and play pretend.
“You’re right. You’re so right. I did. I’ll leave you two be.” Running my tongue over my teeth, I grab my things, ready to make a hasty exit. I need to get this shopping done so I can get back to Trey. Gwen eyes me over, suspiciously, the man next to her looking back and forth between us. After a few seconds, the troll speaks again.
“Good, now run along and go back to the hole you came out of.” Her insult doesn’t even affect me like it used to. Scum can’t make you feel like scum when they invented the word.
“Oh, gladly. Best of luck, Gwen.” With a wink and a mental fuck you, I leave with my entire plan already mapped out.
I know something funny is going down, and I’m not going to let her win. I know who she really is, she’s the same woman she was years ago, and this time, she won’t leave everyone in her wake broken.
Rushing to the dress store, I find Lana for a moment alone and tell her everything.
“What a sneaky bitch. Shayla, you need to tell Trey.” She shakes her head from side to side, just as shocked as I was.
“I will. Trust me, I so freaking will.”
I nervously twitch the rest of the day, waiting to get home and tell Trey about what happened. Don’t get me wrong, I’m worried about his feelings, but more so I’m worried about him and what could happen to him if I don’t tell him his mother is up to no good. We made a promise to always be honest with each other last night. We promised to never hide secrets, and I plan to keep that promise, no matter the cost.
Unlocking his door, I walk in. I assumed Trey would still be at the studio but to my surprise he’s home. I’m in a rush, never slowing down as I shut the door and place all my things down. I’m about to go in search, finally slowing my roll, when I see him on the couch.
Only problem, he’s not alone. Gwen’s sitting just next to the fireplace, in the love seat. My eyes bulge from their sockets when I take in her appearance. Her makeup is smeared with lines of mascara running down her red cheeks, her arms are covered in scratches, and her shirt is torn in various places.
“Baby, what’s going on?” I go to sit next to him on the couch, placing my hand on his knee. They both stay silent, Trey’s eyes never leaving Gwen’s place on her chair. I look to her when he says nothing, beyond confused with whatever I just walked into.
“Okay, what the heck happened, Gwen? Are you okay?” Not like I truly care, honestly, the second this is over, I’m spilling the beans, opening the can.
Her brows nearly lift to her hairline, the brown in her eyes turning darker. “Are you joking? You’re just going to sit here and act like you didn’t cause this?” She gestures to the marks all over her body and it’s my turn to blow my brows off my face.
What? As if I leaped from the couch and landed into the twilight zone, I look over to Trey.
“What are you talking about? Trey!” I grab his knee and pull him from his headspace. When I finally get his attention, his naturally blue eyes are even more blue, crispy blue. Searching him, I implore for answers with just my eyes. My face contorted, my brows drawn in, my frown set deep. He looks lost…scared…broken. That same broken I witnessed when he read the letter to me in the tree house all those years ago.
“Baby, talk to me.” I ignore Gwen’s audible cries, obviously fake. She’s delusional.
“What happened at the cafe, Shayla?” Trey finally speaks. There’s a crack in his voice, the vulnerability laced around his question tears me up inside.
“Nothing! Trey, nothing!” I panic, not sure what to do. I start grasping at anything I can right now. He’s questioning me while Gwen sits in the room, spinning lies to get what she wanted—me out of the picture. What do I do? What can I say, she got here before me, who knows what kind of tale she spun, now she has the upper hand—again.
“She attacked me, I was on a date and you fucking attacked me, you bitch!”
“Hey!” Before I can even react to her venomous accusation, Trey stands fast from the couch, silencing her. “You don’t fucking talk to her like that. I asked her a question. I’m going to ask her what happened and so help me God, Gwen, if she didn’t do this, you’ll be dead to me.” My heart aches when he cracks, his naturally deep voice, wavering. Standing, I place my hand on his shoulder, taking deep breaths to calm myself. He’s still here, my best friend, my love, he is still in there.
“How will you know that? She’ll just lie, Trey! Why would she admit it?” she screams, standing to face off with him. I grip his shoulder tighter, holding him in place, planting him to the foundation that is us. I am the one thing that can keep him here, the one thing that he has solid footing to stand on.
“Because Shayla would never fucking lie to me, especially about this!”
The sound of his shouting makes my hair prickle, coming to stand on edge, Trey is a naturally calm, reverent being—very laid back, so when he snaps, it’s something to make your skin erupt in goose bumps, your legs to tremble, and knees to buckle. I hate when he rages. Not because I fear him, but I fear what that rage can do to him.
“Bullshit, she hides things from you all the time, what makes you think lying is beneath her?” she lashes back, her dark eyes flicking to me, if the devil were alive in the flesh, he would look like that. I swallow hard, for the first time fearful of this woman and what she is capable of.
“Oh yeah, like what?”
“Her pregnancy!”
Wait, what?
He turns, looking at me over his shoulder. “What the hell is she talking about?”
I shake my head fast, I’m not sure what she’s talking about. I’m not pregnant, is that what she thought this whole time? If so, why? I thought she meant she knew about the possible infertility.
“I’m not pregnant, at all. I swear.”
“I saw the test.” We both look to her then to each other once again. Is Gwen also delusional? I have never taken a pregnancy test; there is no test.
“You didn’t see anything, Gwen, I have never taken a test, I can’t—”
“No, you don’t owe her anything, baby,” Trey cuts in, stopping me from continuing.
“Stop trying to stall, Gwen.” Turning his back on her, he faces me, grabbing my face and holding it in his cupped hands. He stares into my eyes, reaching deep down inside of me, as if he’s trying to see my soul. I feel him there; I feel that bond that we have always had, more present than ever. I wait for the question I already know he is going to ask, but I wait for him, he needs to do this his way and I will gladly oblige.
“Did you attack her,
babe?” Ignoring her scoff, I reach up and mimic his hold on me. My hands cradling his handsomely rugged yet distraught face.
“No, Trey. I didn’t. I wouldn’t…I couldn’t do that to anyone, let alone hurt you.” Watching the breath physically leave his body, his shoulders sink, the tension draining and the swoosh of his minty breath breezes across my face; he nods, closing his eyes. Bringing his forehead to mine, I drop my hands from his face and lock them around his strong triceps, squeezing them while my eyes roll shut slowly, thankful that he believed me.
“I believe, fuck, baby, I believe you.” His quiet words feel powerful, hitting me in the heart, just like I need them to—the impact strong, solid.
We’re a team; he’ll always believe me.
“Oh my God! Are you serious?”
Breaking our connection with her incessant whining, I open my eyes to see Trey’s angry, dilated ones. Shit. Turning faster than I can blink, he focuses back on her.
“You lied. Why? What was your game? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you after the therapy session we had this morning. You said terrible things about Shayla for no damn reason.”
What did she say? I think to myself, deciding now probably isn’t the best time to ask.
“Then after you saw how much it was tearing me up inside to see the woman who I should call my mother being at odds with the woman I love, you just shook it off. Shook it off, Gwen!”
“Oh, sorry that I felt my opinion was valid, besides, that’s what therapy is for. What, am I not allowed to say what I feel?” He shakes his head rapidly.
“No! Because she has been nothing but supportive since you came in the picture and all you have seemed to do is bitch about her in therapy! Then this, this lie!” At this point they are within a few inches of each other, like gladiators ready to fight. And all I can think in this moment is what a disgusting human Gwen really is. No mother would standoff like this with her son. No mother would go toe-to-toe with her son, spewing lies in order to destroy his happiness. She should be ashamed of herself, she shouldn’t even be allowed to breath the same air as Trey, or even be in the same damn general vicinity.
“Now you know why! Look at her coming between us.” I roll my eyes, doing my best to not choke her out.
“No, Gwen, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re the problem, you’re the liar. You came between us all on your own. You know what…” He steps back, turning to face me for a brief moment, and when our eyes meet, I give him a curt nod. Encouraging Trey to do it, do what it is I know he wants to do. Let her go. She’s crazy, I was always right, she’s not worth fighting for, there is no saving Gwen.
“What, Trey?” she asks, her voice softening, her final desperate attempt to reel him back in.
“Why? Tell me why you did this, before I throw you out and never speak to you again,” he whispers, looking up at the ceiling. He still hasn’t faced her, and I see the storm raging in his eyes, the tears ready to fall. I don’t know if I should reach out and touch him or if I should just step back and let him settle the score.
Trey needs closure. Him saying good-bye isn’t just for this time, it’s for the time before. It’s good-bye to all the brokenness she caused him, good-bye to all the tomorrows he will never have with his birth mother.
“I did it to see if I could change my mind.” Her voice is breathy, low with disdain. Trey looks at her, as do I over his shoulder.
“Change your mind?” Trey asks.
“I thought I could change my mind about you. I thought I could stop looking at you as the mistake you are. I never loved you, I hated you… Hated you since the day I knew you even existed. I guess that’ll never change.”
A mother’s words so damn harsh… It destroys Trey. A mother’s words cause me to actually hate someone for the first time in my life. A mother’s cruelty makes me see violence. Trey’s shoulders slump and he drops his head, looking like a child, a man thrust into the past, showing us all that even though it’s been years, he’s still hurt by his mother’s loss. And no matter the time or the fact that his mother is cruel, a mother’s words can hurt. Telling your son you hated him since the day you learned of him, would devastate anyone—anyone.
“You know what…” I pause, stepping out from behind Trey, only to step in front of him. My feet are planted firmly on the ground, my fists balled tight to my sides, my nails digging into my skin. I feel the blood pumping through my veins, hot and heavy, making the hair on my head stand on edge, the tingle strong.
“What!” she snaps.
Ready to defend Trey, protect him like I always promised I would. I protect my mate, my king, my man, my best friend, the little boy who fell to pieces and blamed himself.
“Listen here, Gwen. I may not have beat the shit out of you earlier, but I will if you don’t get your shit and leave, you will never talk to him like that again. You’re done, and I will make it my personal mission to make sure your eyes never see him again, your ears never hear him again, and the air you breathe will never be shared with him. Get the fuck out of this house, you coward!” I’m not backing down, I swore up and down that I would heal Trey, that I would always protect him no matter the cost; this is no exception.
We are not moving backward, Trey will not blame himself anymore. He will never be her victim again.
Stunned silent, she eyes me maliciously before finally speaking. “Fine. But you will regret this,” she threatens, but it does nothing to faze me, my adrenaline is too high.
“Not a fucking chance.” Just like that she moves around me, hitting my shoulder and cursing me under her breath. I watch her go to the table and collect her things for a moment before focusing on Trey.
“Baby.” Looking up at Trey, I see the tears in his eyes. The lone tear rolling down his cheek sets me into motion. I stand on my tiptoes, still too short to barely wrap my arms around his neck. He doesn’t say anything to me and the moment my arms lock around him, I hear the familiar sound of his sobs. I hate that his crying has become something I have grown accustomed to. I hate that he has broken down over the same thing too many times to count. I wish I could have stopped her sooner or called her bluff before she came back into his life. I know we need to start healing him again. But, I fear that since he’s much older now, it may be a lot harder to change a man into believing his worth than the naïve boy that once lived.
Hearing Gwen moving back toward us, I remove myself from Trey and move behind him. He stays facing the large windows, while I make sure she leaves. Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open and my brother’s huge frame takes up the doorway. Kingston eyes us all, taking in the scene, then moving aside when he sees her bags. Shopping bags filled with expensive things I am sure Trey funded. Ugh, that cow.
“Move,” Gwen snaps. Kingston steps inside, Lana appearing behind him. Grabbing her arm, gently, he pulls her into his strong ones, her front to his back, while Gwen takes one last look toward Trey and me.
“You will regret this.” With that she leaves, a trail of dust following behind her.
When she clears the doorway, Kingston reaches his long arm out, still keeping Lana tucked into him, to slam the door.
My eyes don’t leave the door, they stay fixated on it for a few more seconds, as if she may come right back. I mean she is really good at coming and going.
“Wow, what the fuck happened?” Kingston breaks through the silence.
I look up to Trey; he wipes his eyes and sniffs, covering his emotion with a mask. I go to speak, but Trey moves faster than I do, halting me. I watch him round the couch, grab his leather jacket and keys.
“I lost my mother—again.” With that he leaves, the door slamming. My feet are stuck in place, not sure what just happened. We all look at each other. I about go after Trey, but can’t will my feet to move. Even if my feet would set in motion, I am not sure what I would even say to him.
“No, really, what the fuck?” Lana asks, rushing toward me. I start to cry, breaking apart for Trey.
“Are
we ever going to be happy? Is Trey ever going to be happy?” I sob, dropping to the couch.
“Oh, baby, he is happy. You both are happy.” Lana wraps me in her arms, sitting to the left of me; Kingston comes to sit in front of us on the coffee table.
Her words are heard, but they aren’t that easy to believe right now. “I know we’re in love and I know I’m happy that we’re a couple, but he’s broken, I’m broken. God, I just let him walk out to be alone with all this…this shit!” I yell, putting my face in my hands and crying harder. We can never seem to have a moment that is good without something happening to sabotage it all.
“Shay, baby. Please stop crying. I know it’s hard right now, but our boy needed it. He needed the space. You know how he gets,” Kingston speaks, placing his hand on my knee, squeezing gently. I start to shake, the sobs racking my body mixed with my adrenaline crash has me shivering. I feel cold. Kingston must feel it, because he moves to the couch, switching positions, so I am cradled in his lap. It happened fast, but his warm body shields me from the air. The strength of his big arms bringing my body temperature back to normal.
“I need to call him and make sure he’s okay.” I peer up at Lana, just to the side of Kings. She nods and reaches into her pocket to grab her phone, I have no idea where mine is.
“Here, I’ll dial.” She dials then hits speaker, the ringing echoing in the apartment.
It’s about to go to voicemail when his gravely voice comes through the line.
“Lana, I need some time, I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Trey, baby, it’s me…” I answer.
He’s silent for a brief moment. “Yeah, baby?” I can tell he’s still crying, I can hear it in his voice, he isn’t doing anything to hide it.
“Trey, baby, come home. Come home to me and we can work this out, I don’t want you to be alone.” My voice cracks, I swallow hard, the acid burning my throat with its thickness.