Cake

  “I’m sorry I acted like an ass,” he softly cries.

  “I’m sorry I acted like a bitch,” I say, meaning it.

  Pulling back, I smile and reach into my pocket for my keys. Unlocking the door, I reach for his hand, which he offers, and pull him inside with me, out of the cold. We don’t say a word as we walk through the shop and up to my apartment. Having let Jonsie out earlier, I lead Trent to my couch to sit down. I don’t waste time.

  “I love this child, and I want you to be part of Bean’s life, however much you want to. I will not force you, Trent. I don’t expect or want money to raise this child. You know I’m fortunate enough to not need it because of my aunt.” He starts to speak, but I interrupt him, saying, “Please, let me finish.” At his nod, I continue, “I love Dray, Trent. I want to be with him, but I know my chances of being with him are pretty slim at this point. It kills me inside, but I can’t let it end me. I’ll go on and make a life with this baby, with or without you or Dray. So, you know where I stand.” I stop, short of crying. My emotions are bouncing all over the place again. I want to cry and then strangle Trent at the same time.

  “Kylie, getting that phone call was…,” he freezes, looking for the right words, “it was…life changing. I thought I would be angry, but over these past couple weeks, I’ve thought about being a father and one day showing a child what I wanted to show you. How we can make a difference. It’s exciting and scary. This child will be a part of me and a part of you. Having a baby with my best friend isn’t the worst thing in the world. How could I not love this child, Kylie?”

  “Yeah, that’s how I feel,” I say, knocking my knee with his. “We can make this work. I want you to continue your humanitarian works. It’s what makes you, you. Bean will be proud of what you do, and we will work out everything as it comes to us. When he or she is older, maybe I can bring Bean to you so you don’t have to go so long between visits. It will work out. You’ll see.”

  He smiles, asking, “You would do that for me?”

  “Yes, you are going to make an amazing father. You might not be a full-time dad, but your child will always know what you do and be proud. The same way I am.”

  “You’re amazing, Ky.” Leaning in, he kisses me gently on the cheek.

  “We are going to have this amazing child. I just feel it, and I can’t be sad about that, Trent.”

  He pulls back and gives me a lopsided smile. “Bean? This is just a nickname, right?”

  “Yes,” I say, standing to walk over and grab the ultrasound pics. Bringing them back, I show him.

  “Ah, Bean is an appropriate name.” He stares at them then looks up with unshed tears in his eyes. “My baby.”

  Smiling back, I say, “Our baby.”

  We sit for hours discussing the ins and outs of the next six months. Trent will return to South Africa and then return a month before I am due, praying I don’t have Bean early. We will take one day at a time as far as financials go, which he insists on helping with, and with visits after that. The most important fact is that we both want this child and will do what is necessary to make sure it happens. We agree it will not be easy, and also that Trent needs to continue doing what he does, and we will make it work.

  After handing Trent a bottle of water, he takes a sip and asks, “You really love him?”

  “Yes, I really do, but I can’t blame him for not wanting to be with me. It’s understandable. You know?”

  “Dray loves you. He always has. I wanted it to happen for you both for years, or well, I thought I did,” he states, laughing. “If you want him, you are going to have to fight for him. He’s never had that.”

  “Trent, I’m having your child. Can you even imagine the ribbing from his teammates should we be together, and our baby looks like his brother’s? Let’s be honest, there is no getting around that. Not to mention, your relationship. I can’t come between that.” Even to myself, my voice sounds deflated.

  “If we can get past that ego of his, I know he has to see that having your love is worth it. Kylie, Dray and I both know you are not some slut. We’ve discussed it and the part that he and I both played in this whole fucked-up, fuckery scenario. You didn’t sleep with us to hurt each other. We both unintentionally, and intentionally, played mind games with each other, but now, I want us all to be happy. If that means you and Dray, dammit, that’s what needs to happen. At least I know my child would have a decent fill-in dad when I can’t be here.” He smiles at me.

  Tears come to my eyes at his words. This is the Trent I know. The kind, compassionate guy that I met seven years ago and have loved since. “I don’t know what to do,” I tell him.

  “Well, I do. C’mon,” he says, gripping my hand as he stands and begins to pull me out of my apartment.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, following him as Jonsie barks at us.

  “I haven’t been staying at Dray’s. I needed some time after everything, and I figured he did too. I’m going to take you to his apartment right now, and you, my dear girl, are going to stand there and fight for him. You’re going to tell him he’s an idiot if he lets you go and then explain how much you love him.”

  Getting into his car, I look up and ask, “And what are you going to do?”

  “Kick his goddamn ass if he doesn’t make the right decision,” he states, shutting my door.

  Coming around to the driver’s side, he gets in and squeals out of his parking space. I quickly snap my seatbelt on and look over at him, bracing myself against the door.

  “Sorry,” he says, sheepishly. “I forgot there is a baby on board.” Winking, he laughs at me.

  Even though it’s lunch time on a Thursday, it’s still the week after Christmas, so downtown traffic is lighter than normal. We rush through the streets, both silent as I think about what I’m going to say to Dray. Trent is right. I have to show him that I really do love him and that this type of love is worth any pain or suffering that it might bring. I’m pregnant, not dead.

  Once we park, Trent grabs his keys, and we head straight up on the elevator. I’m worried about how he handled the news. Dray received the same results we did only hours ago. He may not even be at home or he may be extremely upset. I follow Trent into the apartment as he calls out for him.

  Walking down the hallway, I look up as Dray opens the door of his bedroom. He’s fresh from a shower, in his worn jeans, unbuttoned at the top, and no shirt. His well-defined chest glistens, not completely dry, seeming as if he rushed out at Trent’s voice. Dray’s eyes volley between Trent’s and mine, closing the door quickly behind him.

  “Well, if it isn’t the happy parents come to see me,” he says, crossing his arms against his chest then leaning back against the wall. “What?” he asks, looking at me this time. “How could you possibly think this would turn out, Kylie? Trent was right. It can’t, and won’t work out.”

  My temper flares at his words. I’m not hurt. I’m mad. Stepping around Trent, I stand directly in front of him, close enough to notice how wonderful he smells, and stare into those dark eyes.

  “Do you love me?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he says only for my ears.

  I see the pain that he feels, and for one moment, it almost brings me graveling to my knees. When he turns his head from me, I lift my hands to his face, cradling his cheeks and gently turn him back to me.

  “Yes, it does, because I love you. I love this baby, Dray. I can’t be sorry for it, but God, I love you with all of my heart.” I pray that he can see the love shining in my eyes, through the tears that I can’t stop. “If you will just forgive me and try, just try, to love me, I swear to you that I will spend every day from now until eternity striving to make you happy. Giving you so much love that you’ll never question what it feels like to be truly loved or to love. I love you, Dray.” His damp eyes shine with hope back at me, and for a brief instant, my heart is whole once again. We both seem to lean in at the same time, our lips inches from touching.

  At the sound
of his bedroom door opening, both of our faces turn, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him bow his head.

  “Shit,” he whispers.

  The girl from the Christmas party, stands in his number twenty-seven football jersey and nothing else. If I had to describe her hair and makeup, I would call it totally-fucked-mussed. She directs a predatory smile solely at me. For two seconds, I imagine myself bum-rushing her and beating the ever-living daylights out of the blonde bimbo skank. My eyes fly to Dray’s, and the hope that I saw, is now replaced with guilt. My heart, once again, takes a beating. I don’t know if it is because I’m so tired of all our shit or because I promised myself that I’m not going to live my life chasing either one of these guys anymore, but I quietly turn around. Slipping past Trent, I see him lunge towards Dray out of the corner of my eye, and by the sound of it, punch him in the face.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  I hear Trent scream at him, and then someone gets thrown against a wall.

  “Put your goddamn clothes on, and get the hell out of my apartment. This was a fucking mistake.”

  Dray’s voice follows Trent’s. Shaking my head at the trauma which is my life, I start to let myself out of his apartment for the last time. The door handle slips out of my hands as I see Dray’s arm push it closed around me. I face the door, not daring to look back, his breathing harsh in my ear.

  “I’m so sorry, Kylie. It is a mistake. I don’t care about her. When I got the results, it hurt. I guess I wanted to hurt you too, so I called her up. I fucked up.” Not touching me, he leans closer, whispering in my ear, “Please don’t leave me.”

  I’m all cried out. I can’t even stomach the thought of what I just witnessed and said to him. “I laid my heart out to you, and all the while, you had another woman in your bed.” I don’t turn around, speaking to the door.

  “You have another man’s baby in your belly.”

  Gasping, I can’t believe what he said. What he just compared. But, by God, he’s one-hundred percent right. How can I fault him for the truth?

  “I’m sorry, Kylie. I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, instantly trying to apologize for what he said.

  “Don’t be sorry for the truth,” I mutter. The thought of her hands, her mouth, on him makes me violently sick to my stomach. I take several calming breaths, convincing my body to not empty itself. This must be how he feels with me being pregnant. I’m sure it’s the same, and I can’t live with causing him that. If I truly love him, then I know what I have to do. I turn so that I’m caught between his arms.

  Looking into his eyes, I say, “I’m sorry too, Dray. I’m sorry for everything. I love you, but I can’t do this to you. I can’t do this to Trent or myself, and I refuse to put my child through the emotional warfare. It’s not healthy. I’ll always love you, and I know not a day will go by that I won’t think about what if? I’m not mad at you for this. Hurt? Yes. I’m sure as much as you are hurting right now, but gradually, the pain of losing you will fade,” I say it, knowing it’s a lie. I’ll never truly get over losing him.

  “Kylie,” he starts to say.

  “Don’t. If I know you like I think I do, you brought her here because you knew I would find out somehow, and you also knew that I would never forgive you for it. It is your way out of our situation. So take it, Dray.” I turn, grasping for the door handle.

  “I don’t want to take it,” he says, close behind me. “I love you, Kylie.”

  Not glancing back, I open the door then quietly remark, “It doesn’t sound as sweet when it’s said too late. I’m sorry.” I don’t turn around to see his face. I don’t even realize I’m not alone until Trent draws me into his arms on the elevator ride down. The tears that I could hardly shed to Dray, I lay on him. Ugly gut-wrenching sobs follow us all the way home.

  The rest of the day, Trent comforts me and even calls Madison over to share in my misery. Being the loyal friend that she is, she cusses Dray first, then we have to physically restrain her from going to “beat the ass-pirate down.” The next several weeks consist of emotional healing, creamy ice-cream, tons of big bear-hugs, and the love and support of my beautiful friends and family.

  As months pass, I don’t hear from Dray. He’s disappeared for the off-season to some tropical island, or so the gossip goes. I think Trent speaks to him, and I‘m glad that he does, but we don’t discuss it. My emotions are still raw from it all. I love him, and sometimes love is about setting that person free. I don’t expect to see Dray come rushing back, ready to raise Trent’s baby, and I’m fine with that. Okay, I’m not fine, but I’ll get there. Maybe. One day.

  At the end of February, Trent helps me move into my new house, and we begin decorating the baby’s room. After much debate, we decide to find out what we are having, and it turns out that Georgia Leigh Moss will be born in July. Trent bawled like a baby when he first heard it was a girl then panicked at the thought of going from trying to get into a vagina to guarding one. It was so cute, and totally hilarious.

  Ah, Trent. What can I say? He’s been the best friend a pregnant girl could ask for. Sweet, compassionate, understanding, and totally enamored with my burgeoning body. Not in a sexual way, but in a “that is my baby girl in there” way. It’s so cute, yet annoying sometimes when he tries to force me to eat some nasty health food or scolds me over some pregnancy no-no that I constantly forget. He better not tell me one more time I can’t have a hot dog wiener or he’ll lose his Oscar Mayer. In March, Trent leaves to check on his new water site and plans to return the first of July. I’ll actually be sad to see him leave, but this is Trent. I accept who, and what, he is and love him for that.

  Madison is still seeing Lil Rip; however, every once in a while, she will accidently leave her phone out when we are together, and accidently it will flip to text messages, and who do you think she text messages at least every day? Cocky-Crooner, which has to be Nick Andrews. I’m working my way up to asking her about it, but right now, I’m enjoying her good mood.

  Some days are great, and some days, I really miss Dray. I miss his wiseass comments, his crude remarks, but most of all, I miss his delectable body. Okay, okay, I miss him. His soul. The sensitive part that loves a football television series, the smile that he saves just for me, and those eyes that haunt me while I’m awake and asleep. But I will forge on. This little girl needs a mother, and I’m excited to meet her. One day, I’ll have time for me again. I’m ecstatic over my future, and I do hope to always keep my heart open for Dray or whoever is meant to be with me. For now, I’m going to enjoy the ride, because you never know where this life will take you.

  “Georgia Leigh Moss! Put that dirty spoon down this instant, young lady. Go with Nana and wash up before your daddy gets here.”

  “I’ve got her, Kylie,” my mother says, scooping her up and tickling her tummy.

  The tinkling sound of her laughter makes me smile, and something about it always reminds me of my Aunt Leigh. Georgia is so much like Trent that it’s scary. She loves, loves digging in the dirt. Doesn’t matter if it’s her hands or her eating utensils, she sneaks outside when she can and ruins every piece of clothing she wears. Trent hasn’t seen her in six months, and his flight came in about a half hour ago. I’m sure he is rushing to get here. He tries not to go any longer than that because he is so in love with her.

  She looks exactly like me but has his twinkling light brown eyes. Her first word was “Daddy,” and I make sure to show her his picture everyday he is not with her. She came into this world kicking and screaming, and it’s been a rollercoaster ride ever since. Oh, how I love her. Georgia is everything and more than even I could ever have imagined.

  As for me, Decadent Darling is doing beautifully under Leo’s awesome management. I am currently designing a line of children’s clothing and having a blast. I actually flew to London last month to meet with a potential buyer after she saw several of my outfits online. It’s scary, but exciting.

  I turn when I hear the door from the garage open
and shut.

  “Babe, where you at?”

  Every time I hear his voice, I smile and look down at the four-carat diamond wedding ring set on my left hand. I would have married him without the gargantuan monstrosity, but since he gave it to me, I’m keeping it, and considering the hell he put me through and the six months I made him wait after Georgia was born before I would go on a date with him, I deserve it. God, I love him, and the way he loves me and Georgia is amazing. He is such a great Dad to her.

  When he walks into the hallway, I can’t help but grin at him, and without thinking, I run to jump straight into his open arms. His mouth captures mine, and for that moment, the world disappears. This is love. Everlasting true love in its highest form. I know when he says forever, he means it, as do I. My body responds to his like no other before him. He’s been gone on business, for, what seems like, ages.

  Ending our kiss, he pulls back, stating, “I mean it this time, Ky. I’m not leaving you and G-baby again.” Pressing his lips softly against mine, once, twice, he continues, “Super Bowl champ or not. These interviews are getting in the way of my girls’ time, and I’m so not down with that. I love you and Georgia too much.”