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“All right, you know what, I’m not gonna do this anymore.” Shayla is now crying and Lana looks like she’s seen a ghost.
“Do what? Don’t you think you have done enough? Fuck, Trey. I never thought you would let me down.” Shaking his head, I bite back.
“First off, Shayla and I are beyond fucking happy. I was scared of a family at one point, but not with her, I grew the fuck up, Kingston. And you standing here right now, yelling at her, isn’t going to fly by me. So you can either support us or get the fuck out.” I have moved around Shayla by this point, standing just inches away from Kingston.
“Trey!” Shayla yells on a cry.
“You’re right, I can just walk away.” With his last words to me, he moves around me, nudging me hard with his shoulder as he passes. I turn and watch him leave, but before he does he stops in front of Shay. He stares at her wordlessly while she cries up at him. The scene in front of me hard to watch.
“Lana, let’s go, baby.” Lana comes to Shay’s side.
“Kingston, come on, let’s talk about this.” Standing up for Shayla, Lana wraps her in a hug.
“How can you be okay with this, how are you not shocked?” he asks, keeping his voice low but his body on defense. He knows better than to be aggressive with Lana, but that doesn’t mean he’s good at hiding his frustration.
“I told her,” Shayla speaks before Lana has the chance.
“You fucking told her before me, how could you do that? I’m your best friend.” The hostile air in the room turns cold, a rush of sadness diminishes his anger.
“I wanted to tell you and dad together and it just happened.” He shakes his head.
“And you didn’t tell me either, baby?” His question is turned on Lana.
“She barely told me a few hours ago, sweetie.” The way she speaks to him is soothing—remorseful. Making me feel even more guilty. Kingston is my best friend and I didn’t tell him, I didn’t think about his feelings. Regardless though, I won’t let him make us feel guilty about this.
“Why do I feel like I’m standing in a room full of complete strangers?” He moves to the door, mumbling as he goes. “I guess I’m the odd man out.” Kingston’s final words rip a sword through all of us, pissed at him or not, that shit stung.
“Kingston, wait!” S
hayla calls after his retreating back. Lana stops her, squeezing her tight.
“No, let me, Shay, I’ll talk to him. I’ll calm him down, okay?” Shayla is hesitant, debating what she should do. Her eyes come to me, her usually green irises lined in red. Knowing and seeing her torn between what to do, I speak up for my little woman.
“Let her go, baby, let her talk to him.” Shayla concedes, nodding her head and then moving from Lana’s arms straight into my waiting ones.
“It’s gonna work out, I promise.” They share a look, but it’s opposite this time. Shayla looks more worried for Lana—almost sad—than she does for herself in that split second.
I knew our bubble wouldn’t stay sacred forever, but never did I think we would hurt anyone with our news. Maybe telling everyone means we need to prepare for the worst.
Shayla
I LAY IN BED ALL weekend, crying and feeling sorry for myself. The past week drained me, physically and emotionally. I cried myself to sleep in Trey’s arms every night since the disagreement with my brother. I feel guilty, completely consumed by it. I know I should’ve told my brother first; however, in my defense, I only knew for a day. But I should have told him before anyone, we’re family.
I understand him being upset that he was the last to know out of our circle of friends, but for him to fly off the handle and say the cruel things he did, it doesn’t make sense. I’m young, yes, but I don’t feel like I’m making a mistake. This child is my saving grace; he or she came at a time when Trey and I needed it most.
I feared my future was without a family. Trey lost his father then his biological mother—again—all in a matter of months. Our child isn’t just a child, it’s faith restored, love renewed, and hope found.
In just a few months we will celebrate our one-year. What a year this has been, the battles, the demons, the tragedies, the beauty we’ve faced all in the span of a short time.
“How is he?” I ask Lana when she finishes with the client.
“Not good, he’s been quiet, avoiding the whole subject in general.”
I help her make work of cleaning out the fitting room, hanging the clothes back on the hangers. I dragged my feet all day today at work, I honestly can’t wait to get home and take a bath then crash. I’m dying to make things right with my brother, but he won’t answer my calls and when I went to the apartment with Trey, so he could grab a few things to bring to my place, he treated me like I wasn’t even there. His eyes glued to the TV.
This is the first fight we’ve ever had. Kingston and I have bickered, but we have never spent this much time silent or avoidant.
“I miss him. I hate being apart.”
