AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turned, my feet rushing toward the bedroom where an unbothered Remy slept. She slept peacefully. Her arms and legs stretched wide across the king-size bed. I loved seeing her like this. Her fingers gripped the soft fabric that lay on her bump. I placed my hand on her belly and left it there as I watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. My eyes glided to her bare ring finger, and I knew I didn’t want it to stay that way for long. I loved Remy, and I was going to marry her as soon as this shit with the business was over with. I grabbed my leather overnight bag out of the closet and threw a couple of my belongings into it. She turned and let out a small whimper as she dug her face into the fluffy pillow. I should be stepping out of my shoes and cozying up next to her. Instead, I’m packing a bag and getting ready to be whored out by my mother and uncle.What the fuck is life?
CHAPTER8
Remy
I’d wokenfrom my nap to find Jaimie had headed to New York for a business event. He left a string of kisses in a text message and told me he’d be back as soon as possible. I headed to the living room with a fresh yawn rolling off my lips. I nearly choked on my inhale when I caught sight of his mother sitting on the couch.
She was paging through home décor magazines while she sipped her tea. I couldn’t believe he left me alone with her, the woman who called me a poor whore. I could smell her perfume lingering throughout the space. It smelled like she mixed a boutique of flowers with mothballs, making me want to gag. The clanking sounds of pots and pans echoed out into the living room from the kitchen, and the doors swung open. A short man in a chef outfit nodded, and I froze.
“Would you like the buttered chicken or the pork chops, ma’am?” the chef asked.
“Buttered chicken will be fine; I don’t know if she eats pork.”
The chef’s eyes glided toward mine, and her head turned. Her withering lips parted into a forced smile, and she lowered her glasses.
“Chicken is fine, thank you.”
The chef took note and retreated into the kitchen. She was still holding my gaze once he walked away. Jaimie looked just like her but better looking. She closed the magazine and threw it on the table.
“Come. Sit,” she said as her hand tapped the empty cushion next to her.
Her eyes followed me as my body sank into the oddly shaped couch. I could feel the air becoming stiff as the seconds passed.
“When I first saw you, I knew you were having twins.” Her frail palm laid flat against my bump.
“And I can’t wait to have them,” I said as I shifted my weight, trying to get a little more comfortable.
“Oh, I bet, the back pain is probably killing you already, and you can’t wear shoes unless you squeeze into them, and that creates undesirable muffin tops.”
We both let out small chuckles, and for a moment, I thought she wasn’t so bad.
“When will Jaimie be back?” I asked, hoping to receive a definite answer.
“In a day or two. I needed him to attend a business function. It was urgent.” She picked up her tea once more and brought it to her lips. The kitchen doors swung open, and the chef re-appeared.
I followed Jamie’s mother into the kitchen and then down a small hallway where a long dining room table lay with shiny cutlery and bone china plates. I didn’t even know this existed, but I wasn’t exactly given a tour of the penthouse. Her facial expression let me know she found my shock amusing, and I quickly dissolved my expression.
“I’m more of a large mansion type of girl. Penthouses feel too restricting for my taste.”
I looked away and fidgeted with the back of the wooden chair as I pulled it out. I had no idea if Jaimie told her I lived in a school bus, but her knowing would probably give her a heart attack. She took the chair beside me, and we waited as the chef filled our plates with lemon chicken, seasoned vegetables, and steamed rice.
“How long are you staying? I asked.
The question nearly made her choke on her chicken. I needed to know because I refused to remain under the same roof as her.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I’ll be gone before you wake up.” Her words were reassuring and music to my ears. “So, tell me, is Jaimie the father?”
I could feel every bone in my body tense up as her words seeped off her tongue.
“Yes, he is. I’m sure of it.”
A barbed laugh erupted from her throat but was soon replaced with a strained smile once she saw the look on my face.
“I’ve seen how my son looks at you, and I believe you. If you say they are his, then they are.”
“I had a paternity test last week; I know he’s the father, and even if he weren’t, he would still care for the babies and me.”
She nodded in agreement as she scraped her fork against the bottom of the decorative plate.
