Their Now and Forever (Book III) (The Allen Trilogy 3)

by Chevelle Allen

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.” He took a sip and set his glass down.

  “How was the rest of your day?”

  “Fucked.”

  “Oh.” She sipped on her wine watching him intensely. “I’m going to get out these clothes and we can eat.”

  “I need to talk to you first.”

  “Okay.” She nervously took another sip of wine.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had an abortion?”

  “Because it happened a long time ago.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this.”

  “We need to talk about it.”

  “Why? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Because it’s a factor in our family planning.”

  “That’s not what the doctor said.”

  “That’s what he meant. You and I both know it. So just tell me about it.”

  “All you need to know is it was a very painful time and one of the hardest decisions in my life.”

  “You told me about Vincent. That was a painful time too, right? Just tell me when did it happen?”

  She took a deep breath knowing what ever was said would have ramifications she couldn’t begin to imagine. But she had to tell him the truth.

  “Seven years ago.”

  “Okay. How far along were you?”

  “Nine weeks.”

  “Did the father know about it?”

  “No.”

  “Were you in a relationship or just fucking him?”

  “We weren’t in a relationship.”

  “Seven years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  Finishing of his bourbon, he poured another, filling the glass before taking a huge gulp. In an instant his face changed. No longer merely curious or mildly annoyed, his expression was panicked.

  “Was that before or after I saw you at Kelly’s wedding?” he said softly.

  “Michael…”

  “Answer me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this!”

  “Before or after!”

  “After.”

  “Was I the father?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t have the decency to tell me? To at least let me be a part of any decision?”

  “I hadn’t seen or talked to you in almost eight years!”

  “So you treated me like some random fuck?”

  “It wasn’t like that!”

  “Do you realize how different our lives would be right now? We’d be raising our child together—our family. You took seven years of our lives together away!”

  “How could I know that? You were with her! Even after we…”

  “Bullshit! Are you telling me you thought for one minute I’d stay with her if I knew you were pregnant?”

  “I didn’t want that to be the reason! I wanted… I wanted you to want me!”

  “That’s all I’ve ever wanted! But you didn’t do it because of her… or me. You did it for you. It was your fucking job! Admit it!”

  “That’s not true! You have no idea how much pain…how hard it was to…”

  His pain was exhibited throughout his tensing body, but she was hurting too by his accusation. She had to hold him. Reaching out to touch him, he flew into a greater rage.

  “Don’t fucking touch me! Baby, I love you, but don’t put your hands on me right now!”

  Stepping back in shock, she’d never seen him like this. He was deeply hurt and nothing she said or did could take that away. She had to give him space. She watched him storm upstairs taking the bottle of bourbon with him. She dared not follow. Whatever conclusions he arrived at she’d have to deal with—one way or another.

  CHAPTER 31

  Leaning against the headboard, he reached for the bottle pouring yet another glass of bourbon. His thoughts were scattered and emotions erratic as the liquor’s effects coursed through him. Son of a bitch! How the hell could she do that to me? Seven fucking years! Wasted! He imagined their lives together, their children…everything they could have had if she’d only told him. He wouldn’t have ached for her all those years, mistakenly searching for elements of what they had in other women. There’d be no Jocelyn, Narissa or any of the other women that came into his life after his eventual split from Christine. He would’ve never met Nikita.

  In the midst of his anger, Janine’s words rattled in his brain. “You were with her!” He considered them mere excuses. She knew better—she had to know better. As far as he was concerned, she aborted their child knowing damn well if he knew, he’d do everything in his power to convince her to have it. Hell, he’d raise the baby alone if she wasn’t ready to be a mother…or wife. That’s why she didn’t tell me! It didn’t have shit to do with Christine! Rather than subside, his rage was increasing and the measured control he took such pride in was gone. He poured another glass of bourbon spilling some on the floor before gulping it down. Who does that? She didn’t even let me…I don’t even know who the fuck she is! One fucking lie after another!

  But his mind quickly flashed to the wedding. Seeing her again at the rehearsal dinner ripped him apart and lit his soul on fire all at once. Holding her close during their dance pushed all reason away. It didn’t matter that Christine was less than twenty feet from them. Janine’s scent, the feel of her skin, the soft curves of her body and the undeniable chemistry between them was difficult to contain. He’d never felt such a powerful attraction and desire for any other woman.

  He also couldn’t deny her shattered expression when she saw him sitting in the pew with Christine after their night of passion. Barely able to look at him, Janine stood beside Kelly at the altar masking her tears as ceremonial joy. Immediately knowing the difference, he was desperate to talk with her at the reception. Understandably she went out of her way to avoid any contact with him. It wasn’t until days later that she finally accepted his phone calls. Reflecting on it, he realized he never explicitly told her he wanted to start over. She knew I loved her! She knew it! She just didn’t…believe it. His heart was growing heavy and pain rapidly replaced his anger. Clumsily placing the bottle on the nightstand, he couldn’t drink the pain away as much as he tried. He began sobbing as the range of emotions overwhelmed him.

  Wiping her tears away, she turned on music and sat on the couch clutching a glass of wine. Sade’s classic chorus, This is no ordinary love, played as Janine drifted once again to that painful chapter. At the time, she prayed it was just stress delaying her period again as she carefully unwrapped the home pregnancy test. Following the instructions, she set it on the counter waiting for the result. Appearing almost immediately, she stared at the two bright pink lines. Shit, shit, shit, shit! Ripping open another package, she took the test again which yielded the same result. Oh my God! For at least two weeks, she was numb with the gravity of her situation.

  She warred daily with herself about whether or not to tell Michael. When he called, they’d talk about what was going on in their lives and little else. She wanted him to say ‘let’s do this’ or ‘come back to D.C.’ or better yet, that he’d join her in Indianapolis. But he never did—and neither did she. Yet one thing was certain—after all those years apart, everything she felt for him came rushing to the surface from the protected recesses of her heart. She still loved him and she hated herself for it.

  Nearing seven weeks pregnant, she knew she had to make a decision. As pleasant as their conversations were, she was convinced he would never say those things because he had Christine. When he made a passing reference about attending a family function with her, Janine was certain he’d moved on. She reasoned what was shared between them wasn’t much more than a loving stroll down memory lane. Her only option was to accept the fact she’d disrupted his life enough.

  When she caught herself rubbing her abdomen, she scheduled an appointment with her gynecologist the following week. It could all be done at the office. A perk of being a woman of means meant the procedure wouldn’t be processed thro
ugh her insurance. Nonetheless, the doctor discussed coding the procedure as a simple D&C to remove endometrial tissue associated with menstrual problems. There’d be no public clinics requiring a walk through anti-abortion activists waving placards of extracted fetuses while chanting “baby killer” at her.

  With the decision made, she didn’t have friends in Indianapolis she trusted enough to share this information. She reached out to Monica instead.

  “Hey girl! How are you?” Monica beamed.

  “Hi.”

  Sensing something wasn’t right Monica asked, “Janine, what’s wrong?”

  “Can you come out next Friday? I need your help.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh, damn! So you’re going to…”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I don’t have a lot of options.”

  “The hell you don’t! If you want this baby, then have it. Don’t worry about the optics or any of that bogus shit.”

  “It’s more complicated than that. If it was just optics, it might be easier, but…”

  “Is the father married or something? I mean you’re calling me because he’s not around, right?”

  “No, he’s not around.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  Monica sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. You know I’ll be there. I’ll get a flight out Thursday night and stay through the weekend. Have you told Kelly?”

  “No. You know how she feels about abortion so please don’t tell her—or anyone else.”

  “Of course. How far along are you?”

  “About eight weeks.”

  “Oh…OH!”

  By her pause, Janine knew she was figuring it out. Having picked up on their tension at the reception, Monica was the only one who knew she’d slept with Michael.

  “J, please make sure this is what you want and not what you think’s best. You owe yourself that much…and him.”

  “He’ll never need to know. He can go on with his life…with her.”

  Janine was ready for bed but hesitant to go despite being emotionally drained and physically exhausted. It had been a couple of hours since Michael disappeared upstairs slamming their bedroom door behind him. There was no telling what kind of mood he’d be in. Any of them would’ve been perfectly valid. His outburst demonstrated just how much the revelation hurt him with a wound cutting to his soul.

  She got up from the couch placing the uneaten pizza in the refrigerator. With each step up, she grew more nervous unsure what she’d encounter. Approaching their bedroom, it seemed eerily quiet. Slowly turning the knob, she found Michael sprawled across their bed asleep. Gathering her things, she turned out the lamp and headed down the hall to the guest room.

  With the morning alarm going off at six, he shut it off but continued to lie in bed. It had been a long time since he had a hangover this bad. He felt like shit and couldn’t wait for the day to be over, but it was just beginning. Still reeling from the emotional bombshell from the night before, he sat on the edge of the bed trying to get his bearings. Quickly realizing Janine wasn’t in bed with him, he felt a sense of relief because he wasn’t ready to deal with her.

  Going through his morning ritual, he went downstairs to make coffee and get the paper from the front porch. Sipping the much-needed brew while skimming the paper, his thoughts kept returning to their conversation. He wanted to let it all go, but he couldn’t. Over the years, he’d forgiven her for a number of things, but he wasn’t sure he could forgive her for this. Making his way back upstairs, he noticed the door to the guest bedroom closed. Rather than peek inside or wake her, he dressed and left the house far earlier than usual.

  Despite every effort to focus on the tasks at hand, he couldn’t. He felt as if his entire world had imploded. His conflicting emotions were unwieldy as he grappled with core values at odds with one another. In essence, one moment he felt like a hypocrite, the next, a man scorned. Under most circumstances, he staunchly believed a woman had every right to control when, where and how she had babies. Yet he couldn’t shake being deeply saddened that Janine made the decision without him.

  It was too easy to think she’d done it selfishly without taking into account their relationship at the time. What became inescapable was she’d done it-at least in part-because she didn’t believe he’d choose her. Her insecurities were just as rampant then as they were in law school. But what happened in that hotel room was much more than sex. The intensity of their lovemaking was more than bodies interacting, but rather enraptured souls intertwining. To him, it was proof he’d always choose her.

  Unfortunately, his subsequent actions spoke to the contrary for her. It was those actions Janine chose to guide her choice after nearly eight years apart. If she’d only talked to him, she would have known. He loved her. He whispered the words, but he didn’t tell her how much he wanted to build something with her again. Even when they reconnected a few years later, he still didn’t tell her.

  The wedding fiasco could have been the opportunity to truly start over. But he didn’t seize it. He should have immediately ended his relationship with Christine. Instead, he agreed to go along with the ruse pretending nothing had happened so that she could save face. He should have told her exactly what happened between him and Janine. But he allowed her to believe his infidelity was a “pickup,” rather than the true love of his life.

  All those years of false starts, he’d convinced himself the issues were predominately hers. He believed she’d keep running from what they had. Hell, she’d done it more than once—it was reasonable to expect she’d do it again. It was so ingrained in his psyche, that on some level it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Reflecting upon it all, he had to own his part in it. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, her decision was logical.

  It was close to eight as he contemplated whether or not to go home. His heart simply hadn’t resolved what clearer thinking had concluded. The hurt was profound and far more painful than anything he’d ever experienced. Subsequently, he still wasn’t ready to talk to Janine. He needed more time to come to grips with it all without losing sight of what they had now—what they were building. Making matters worse, his emotional reserves were low. The past month and a half had taken an inextricable toll.

  Sitting at his desk he watched office mates’ lights go out as they said their good nights and left for the evening. The only other office still illuminated was Lacy’s. She’d refused his attempts to talk about her resignation making for a chilly office climate. With the exception of business-related matters, she barely spoke to him in the past two weeks. The other attorneys were baffled by what was happening between them and the only colleague who dared broach the subject was Ricardo. Neither revealed the nature of the rift.

  Michael heard a large crash and then, “Damn it!” Quickly heading down the hall to Lacy’s office, he found her on the floor with an overturned box and a pile of books and broken picture frames.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine!” She scrambled to pick up the frame cutting her palm on a piece of glass. “Shit!”

  “Let me help you.” Squatting down to help her up, she swatted him away.

  “I said I’m fine!”

  “You’re bleeding…badly.”

  “I know where the first aid kit is!”

  She stood up rushing past him to the staff kitchen where the kit was stored. Following her down the hall, Michael stopped at the door watching her fumble with the bandages. Awkwardly trying to wrap the bandage herself, he walked towards her.

  “Lacy, this is fucking ridiculous! You’re bleeding all over the place. You may need stitches. Let me help you.”

  “I don’t want anything from you Michael.”

  “So this is it? This is how we end?”

  “You ended it long before now. I can respect your privacy, but when it spill
s over into our work and you don’t tell me? Repeatedly? This is how it ends.”

  “That’s not what’s happening here.”

  “Trust me. It is. You’ve been very clear on more than one occasion that I need to stay in my lane. So I’ve decided to get on another road because I have no idea where this one leads.”

  “Do you mind if I ask you something.” He was about to cross a delicate line, but he had no other way to help her understand why he kept his relationship with Spectra under wraps. “Do you and Dan enjoy fellatio or cunnilingus? Or maybe you do sixty-nine?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” She shrieked. “Why in the hell would you ask me questions like that? Jesus, Michael! You have completely lost it!”

  “That’s my point. How you enjoy sex is none of my business. It’s a highly personal matter. It’s not something you talk about during the course of conversation and certainly not among your peers, no matter how friendly you are.”

  “I didn’t need to know the details! All you had to do was trust me enough to say, look, Spectra and I are friends or I’m a member of her club. Instead you dismissed me.”

  “As I recall, you questioned me for taking her on as a client when we were short-staffed two years ago. You specifically came into my office and gave me hell for it.”

  “I don’t remember it like that.”

  “Now you’re the one who’s not being honest. I told you then she was a friend I’d known for a long time. I even told you the nature of her business. If you were paying attention you would have figured out the rest. So your anger or whatever the hell this is…isn’t about that. Is it?”

  He finished wrapping the bandage around her hand and set the kit back in the cabinet.

  “Finding out you do those things to women…it’s just…too much. The violence was breathtaking and downright disgusting. I respected you.”

  “It’s not to women, but with. But it doesn’t matter what I say. You’ve made pretty strong judgments about something you don’t understand. Even if I tried to explain it to you, you’d never see the agency or be able to get past your feelings.”