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The room had cooled down somewhat. We hadn’t bothered to get beneath the covers. Our clammy skin rose with goose bumps. I pulled off my spiked heels and tossed them over the side of the bed. We pulled the covers over us and cuddled. The room smelled like sex; our sex. I loved it. Trey placed his hand on my bump, which seemed to be growing a bit every day. It was if our baby knew Trey was there. Usually within a minute or two, the stronger butterfly movements would start. Tonight was no different. The expression on Trey’s face never changed. It was as if he was feeling the baby’s movement for the first time every time.
“What?” I asked, noticing him staring at me.
“I don’t want to break the spell, but we do need to talk about our situation,” he said, his tone serious.
What situation is that?
“Tylar,” he said softly, “I want us to be married.”
CHAPTER 42
I groaned loudly, grabbing one of the bed pillows and putting it over my face.
“What? You don’t want to marry me?” he asked, sincerely perplexed.
“Trey,” I said calmly and reasonably, removing the pillow, “we’ve known each other for what, 10 minutes? Put things into perspective please.”
“I thought I was,” he replied, ticked off. “We’re having a baby together. We love each other. It’s the natural thing to do.”
“Trey, can we table this discussion until sometimeafterthe baby’s born?"
“Tylar, our baby isn’t going to be born a bastard. I won’t allow it.”
“What do you have against bastards?” I asked pointedly, my eyes flashing angrily.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How else could you have meant it?”
“Tylar, be reasonable, please? I only want what’s best for all of us. I love you, Tylar. I want you with me.”
My eyes were tearing up again, but this time for a different reason. Trey was getting upset; my tears weren’t going to help matters. I couldn’t help it. I was so emotional these days.
“I love you too, Trey,” I sobbed, burying my face into his neck. Once the floodgates opened, I knew the sobs wouldn’t stop anytime soon. Trey continued to rub my back, trying to soothe me with his sweet words but it wasn’t helping. He was getting frustrated.
“Tylar, please,” he pleaded, “stop crying. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I thought you’d be happy.”
“Trey,” I sobbed, “I'd be happy if I didn’t think the reason was because I’m knocked up. I want to marry you when I’m not pregnant. I’m sorry but that’s the way is has to be.” I rolled over onto my side to compose myself. I felt him get up out of bed and make his way to the bathroom. I heard him trip over something, and then his cursing as he picked it up and hurled it against the wall. I heard the bathroom door slam. I looked over at what he'd thrown against the wall. It was one of my ‘fuck me’ shoes. I couldn’t restrain a giggle as I pulled the covers up over my face so that he wouldn’t hear me.
I awoke Saturday morning desperately hoping that things were normal again between us. It was nothing personal about not getting married. It was simply the way it needed to be. Trey stood at the sink shaving and I went over to him, stood on my tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his lips. He was unresponsive.
Okkaay…
“We’re having breakfast with Mom and Dad,” Trey informed me. “They want to discuss thesituationwith us.”
Oh no, not the “situation” again?
I knew that he'd not just found this out. Why hadn’t he told me sooner? Were his parents were pressuring him into marrying me? The thought of that simply made everything worse.
“What are we, high school freshman? Thanks for giving me notice, Trey,” I snapped, grabbing clothes from my suitcase and going in the bathroom to shower. He shaved while I showered. Neither of us spoke.
Piss on him if he thinks his parents are going to pressure me into something that I’m not ready to do.
I put on jeans and a University of Kentucky sweatshirt. I wanted them to know that I was a “no frills” kind of girl. Trey dressed in khakis and a long-sleeved Polo shirt. We descended the staircase together. Breakfast was being served in the formal dining room. My stomach was growling since I hadn’t eaten dinner the night before. Susan came over to us immediately, giving Trey a hug, and then reaching out to me, kissing me on my cheek.
“How lovely you look, Tylar,” she said sweetly, giving me her sincere and down-home smile. “You look very well-rested, glowing almost,” she gushed. “Please, take a seat. Clive will be joining us in a moment.”
As if on cue, Clive came into the room bidding everyone a good morning. A servant was busy bringing in warm platters of scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, fried potatoes, fresh fruit, and muffins, placing everything on the sideboard. There was coffee, juice, and milk already poured.
