Passion Overtime

by Pamela Yaye

“Well, are you?”

  Terrence shrugged. “I won’t know for sure until I take a paternity test. My attorney’s trying to set something up later this week.”

  Kyra looked away. Out into the sky, as if facing him was suddenly too much to bear. “President Morrow doesn’t want you for the coaching job anymore.”

  “I don’t care about that, Kyra. I care about you.” Not telling Kyra about Lourdes had been a mistake, but he wasn’t losing her over it. He was ready to trade his independence for a committed relationship, and Kyra Dixon was the only woman he wanted. “I know I screwed up, Ky, but I never meant to hurt you.”

  “How long have you known about the baby?”

  “I found out when the story hit the papers,” he told her. “I was completely blindsided by this. Contrary to what was reported, Lourdes hasn’t attempted to contact me and that confrontation outside of my house never happened. That’s pure fiction.”

  Longing to hold her, he moved forward until they were just inches apart.

  “You never told me about your trip to Rio. Or your DUI last year. You were arrested and your blood alcohol level was above the legal limit.”

  Terrence slid his tongue over his teeth. “None of that stuff matters anymore, babe. It happened in the past and I’ve moved on.”

  “That’s all you can say? ‘It happened in the past and I’ve moved on,’” Kyra snorted. “Well, it matters to me, and that weak-ass excuse isn’t going to fly.”

  Terrence didn’t react. What mattered now was how they were going to fix this, not what had happened a year ago, but when he suggested they go back to his place or better yet, check into a hotel, Kyra wrinkled her nose. “Let’s get away from it all and—”

  “And what? Pretend you don’t have a baby mama doing interviews with every news media in the country? Oh, and let’s not forget about all of the stories and videos that have flooded the Internet in the last eight hours. There’s the DUI charge and…”

  Refusing to argue, he listened with uncharacteristic calm. “This is not getting us anywhere, Kyra. We’re talking in circles and you’re getting angrier.”

  “You’re right. This is a waste of time.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he protested, angry that she was twisting his words. “I was bummed about my knee, and the loss of my football career and had too many beers one night. I paid my fine, did my hours of community service and vowed that it would never happen again. And it won’t.”

  “You know what, forget that I asked. It’s your life, your business.”

  “Don’t say that. It’s not true. I want to marry you, and build a life with you.” He reached inside his coat and opened the box. “I’ve been carrying this engagement ring around for weeks. I wanted to propose, but it was never the right time.”

  Kyra turned her head away.

  “Don’t throw away what we have,” he pleaded. Reaching out, he drew his hand along her cheek in a sweet caress. “I know you’re mad, and I understand if you’re not ready to get married now, but I can’t live without you, Ky. It was wrong of me to hide my past from you, and I promise from now on to be up-front about everything.”

  When she didn’t answer, his confidence died, along with his hopes and dreams for the future. Terrence didn’t want to press the issue, didn’t want to come across as being desperate, but he had to know where they stood. “Do you forgive me?”

  Her voice was so low, so pained, he could barely hear her. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can hardly stand to look at you, that’s why.” Tears fell, but she slapped them away. Laughing bitterly, she shook her head. “I should have known that something like this would happen,” she confessed, repugnance in her tone. “This isn’t the first time you’ve broken my heart or publicly humiliated me. You’d think by now I’d get it. You’re just not the kind of man I can trust.”

  Stunned, her searing words reverberating in his mind, he listened to her say their relationship was over. “Kyra, I’m not going to let you go,” he vowed, forcing her to look at him. “We’ve been through too much to give up now.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” she snapped. “I don’t want you.”

  Terrence kept a cool head. She didn’t mean it. Her words hurt, pierced, but he wasn’t going to fall for her deception. Fear clogged his throat, and the thick cloying taste was enough to make him sick, but he soldiered on. Nothing was going to ruin his future with Kyra. Not when he finally had her back, finally had her love. “There’s no one in this world I want more than you. I love you and I know you love me.”

  “Of course you love me. You have no one else.” She wore a joyless smile. “Now that all the groupies are gone and your endorsements have fallen through, you’re anxious to settle down, aren’t you, Terrence?”

  “It’s not like that. That’s not what this is about.”

  “Yes, it is. Your star is fading fast, and you figured you’d come down to Hollington and hook up with good ole Kyra,” she surmised. “But I’d rather be single for the rest of my life than end up loving another lying, cheating man.”

  “Kyra, I never cheated on you. Why don’t you believe me?”

  “Because you’re a liar, that’s why. And I can’t trust anything you say.”

  Terrence shoved the ring box into his pocket. Coming here had been a mistake. He didn’t need Kyra—the one person he thought he could trust—turning her back on him when he needed her most. All of the other women in his past had bailed, so why did he think she’d be any different? Because Kyra doesn’t care if you have millions in the bank, a voice protested. She’d love you if you were living in a FEMA trailer.

  “Please leave.” Stepping past him, she jabbed her key into the lock. Without looking back, she issued a stern warning. “Stay away from the college or you’ll be escorted off grounds by campus security. The last thing the school needs is any more bad press. I’m sure you understand. I mean, this isn’t your first public scandal, is it?”

  Terrence started to speak, but the door slammed in his face, stealing his words.

  Chapter 23

  Sweat trickled down Kyra’s back. She was burning up in her wool sweater and jeans, but she hadn’t planned on walking to her parents’ house. Scowling, she glanced back down the street at her car. Kyra was going to go up both sides of Allan Walker when she went back to his garage tomorrow. It hadn’t even been a week since he’d changed the ignition module thingamajig and now her car had overheated again. Left with no other options, she’d put on the hazard lights, locked the doors and set out.

  The traffic light turned green, but the driver of the shiny yellow convertible stopped to let her cross. Terrence. His name fell into her thoughts like a gentle sprinkling of rain. It had only been a week since they broke up, so why did it feel as if she hadn’t seen him in six months?

  The fallout from the paternity scandal had built an irrevocable wedge between them that could never be mended. There was a hole in her heart, and every time someone said his name, knots formed in her stomach.

  Sadness penetrated her soul. And as her childhood home came into view, Kyra was reminded of the last time she’d raced down this road, clutching her mother’s hand, fighting back sobs. To ward off the memories, she closed her eyes, allowing the sun’s gentle rays to shower her with warmth and tranquility.

  Kyra rang the doorbell and the door swung open. Her mother’s round face broke into a bright smile. “Hi, sweet pea,” Mrs. Dixon greeted, hugging her. “What brings you by? I thought you had plans with your girlfriends tonight.”

  “My car broke down on 18th Street. I called you twice, but there was no answer.”

  “Sorry, I had the blender on,” she said. “Come in. I just started dinner.”

  Inside the kitchen, cooking utensils covered the granite countertop and the scent of sautéed mushrooms filled the air. Kyra washed her hands, put on an apron and started slicing the onions. Sunlight trickled in through the blinds and a light breeze flowed in th
rough the screen door.

  “How is everything at work?” Mrs. Dixon asked, sliding the turkey casserole into the oven. “When you didn’t come by for dinner, I figured you probably had to work late.”

  Kyra nodded. “It’s been a crazy week, but everything’s coming together nicely for the Winter Wonderland Ball.”

  “And Terrence?”

  Surprised by the question, she furrowed her eyebrows, frowning openly at her mom. “What about him?”

  “Have you two kids talked since he returned to Dallas?”

  Kyra shook her head.

  “Do you want to talk about it, sweet pea?” Mrs. Dixon cleaned her hands on a dish towel. “It’s no good keeping things bottled up inside. Resentment’s bad for the heart.”

  “There’s really nothing to talk about, Ma. Things just didn’t work out.”

  “But,” she protested, “Terrence was ready to marry you!”

  “Who told you that?”

  “He did, when he came by last Sunday and asked us for your hand in marriage.”

  The knife fell from Kyra’s hand. So, Terrence had been telling the truth. Recovering quickly, she said, “It doesn’t matter anyways. I never would have married him. Marriage is a commitment I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to make.”

  Mrs. Dixon gasped. “How can you just up and decide marriage isn’t right for you? Your father and I have been happily married for more than thirty years and—”

  “I know all about Dad’s affair,” she said, interrupting. “Why did you stay, Mom?”

  Mrs. Dixon’s head jerked back. Her mouth fell open, but as if suddenly voiceless, nothing came out. Feeling her way to the table, she sank down onto one of the chairs and lowered her head in her hands. Rose never would’ve imagined that her daughter would remember that fateful afternoon in June. But she did. And not only did Kyra remember, she wanted to talk about it. To heal, she’d placed that unforgettable day in the furthest corner of her mind. It was as if it had never happened. But it had. And like a recurring dream, it was rearing its ugly head.

  Desperate for answers, Kyra joined her at the table and took her mom back to the day that had changed her life forever. “I remember us running from the house. I was too young to understand what was going on, but I heard you and Aunt Bridgett talking in the bedroom that night and put two and two together.”

  “To understand what happened, Kyra, we have to go back to the very beginning.”

  She’d expected her mom to play dumb and was relieved that she didn’t. Kyra’s eyes swept over her mother’s face, and her lips softened into a smile. If she looked half as good as her mom did at fifty-eight, she’d have no complaints.

  “I knew I was going to be Mrs. Lawrence Dixon the moment I met your father,” Mrs. Dixon said whimsically. “God, how I loved that man. We’d go for long, romantic walks along the pier and make love for hours.”

  Kyra coughed. She hadn’t expected her mother to go there. And as much as she appreciated her mother’s candor, she didn’t want to hear everything. “Spare me the details, Mom. I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

  “Why is it so hard to believe that your father and I were once madly in love?”

  Feeling guilty, she tried to soothe her mother’s obviously bruised feelings. “It’s just hard to picture you and Daddy…you know.”

  “Well, believe it. We were in love just as much as you and Terrence, probably even more.” Smiling softly, she reached out and cupped Kyra’s chin. “I couldn’t have asked for a better life, and then we had the prettiest little daughter.”

  After an extended pause, Mrs. Dixon cleared her throat and continued.

  “Things were great, until Deacon Hewitt left the church and took more than half the members with him. I had to get a job at Kroger’s grocery store and I think it devastated your father’s pride that he couldn’t support us. The bills started piling up, and finally out of desperation, he took a part-time position at an auto body shop. But just when we were getting back on our feet, we were pregnant again with your brothers.”

  “Is that why Daddy cheated? Because he felt like he was less of a man?”

  Head bent, she raked her fingers through her short, dark hair. “Cicely was the secretary over at Motor Mechanics. She made time for your dad and gave him gifts. He was flattered. Any man would be.”

  A question Kyra had never considered before rose in her thoughts. “Did this Cicely woman know Daddy had us?”

  Anger flashed in her mother’s eyes. “Some women just don’t care, sweet pea.”

  “What happened when you and Aunt Bridgett returned to the house?”

  “Luckily for your father, we busted in there before anything more happened than what I saw. I almost ripped him apart with my bare hands—and Miss Home Wrecker, too. What hurt the most was that he’d brought that…that woman into our home.”

  “Is that why we moved into this house?”

  Mrs. Dixon nodded. “I told your father to find us another place or kiss us goodbye. I wasn’t going to step one foot into that house again. For weeks I thought of filing for divorce, but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to—”

  “Take us away from Daddy, right?” Kyra interjected her voice an anguished whisper. “You stayed so that we could have a better life and that’s always bothered me, Mom. You deserve to be happy, too.”

  “I am happy, sweet pea. I’ve lived a truly wonderful life.” Rose patted her daughter’s hand. “And my decision to remain married to your father was never anything that noble. I stayed with Lawrence because I couldn’t imagine living without him. He’s the only man for me, and I truly believe we’re soul mates.”

  The news was stunning. Her mom hadn’t stayed to keep the family together; she’d been a woman desperately and hopelessly in love. Just like me. A mental snapshot of Terrence rose in Kyra’s mind, but she pushed the image away. “How long did the affair last? Did Dad love her? Was she—”

  “If you dig around in the past, you’re bound to find skeletons,” warned Mrs. Dixon. “Let it go, sweet pea. It’s over. And this might be hard for you to hear, but I’m a better wife and mother because of what happened that day. I don’t take your dad or anyone else I love for granted anymore.”

  “But—”

  “Lawrence and I grew up in an era where marriage meant something, not like today where people get divorced over nothing,” she explained. “Your father swore it wouldn’t happen again and I’ve never once regretted my decision to take him back.”

  “Do you still love Dad?”

  “Of course, I do, sweet pea! Why would you ask me something like that?”

  Kyra shrugged. “Well, earlier you made it sound like things had changed.”

  “The passion may not be as intense as it used to be, but the love has always remained. What we have is rare and I’m grateful I didn’t allow your father’s lapse in judgment to ruin the good thing we had.” Deep worry lines wrinkled her smooth, brown skin. “Sweet pea, your father loves you and he’d do anything for you, including refinancing the house so you wouldn’t have to quit school.”

  Her eyes widened. “Dad was the one who put that money into my account?”

  “We were hurt that you didn’t come to us, but once your Aunt Bridgett told us you were dropping out of school, we knew we had to do something.” Rose smoothed a hand over her daughter’s cheeks. “It doesn’t matter how old you get, Kyra, you’ll always be your father’s little girl. And there’s no one he loves more than you.”

  After a prolonged silence, Kyra said, “Mom, can we keep this between us? I don’t want Dad to know about this.”

  “It’ll be our little secret.” Her mother patted her hand and stood. “I’m going to go finish dinner. But if you were wondering, your father is in his study.”

  Emotionally drained, Kyra slumped back onto her chair, her mind spinning out of control. She’d resented her father for a mistake he’d made twenty years ago, but if not for his sacrifice, she never would’ve graduated from
Hollington.

  Her stomach lurched when she stood up. Exiting the kitchen, she pushed out a deep, soothing breath. Apologizing to her dad was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, but it was time. Time to put the past behind her once and for all.

  Kyra paused outside of her dad’s study and took a moment to collect herself. She didn’t want to have to face her father, but she owed him an apology—for living in the past, for resenting him and, most importantly, for withholding her love.

  While she was gathering her nerve, the door swung open and her dad stepped out into the hall. “Hi, honey, when did you get here?”

  Overcome with emotion, Kyra felt her eyes water and her mouth go dry.

  “What’s the matter? Is this about Terrence?”

  “No, Dad, it’s about you and me…” she stumbled over the words. Kyra squeezed her eyes shut, fighting valiantly against the tears threatening to overtake her. But the pain she’d been holding inside for the past twenty years finally broke free and she sobbed in her father’s arms. “I’ve been horrible to you, Dad, and you don’t deserve it. I’m so sorry.”

  “Ah, honey, you could never be horrible to me,” he insisted, hugging her. “We love each other too much, right, honey?”

  Kyra didn’t think she’d ever stop crying and when her dad kissed her on the forehead and called her his little girl, she cried even harder.

  Chapter 24

  “We’ll rescind the offer in writing through Mr. Franklin’s attorney. All in favor?”

  The climate in the room changed when Kyra stepped inside. The stunned expressions on the faces of the six men and women seated around the glass table made a laugh bubble in her throat, but there was nothing funny about this clandestine meeting. If not for the conversation she’d overheard in the faculty dining room, Kyra wouldn’t have known the board of directors was in the building. “As PR director of this school for the last seven years, I think I have earned the right to speak on this matter.”

  Mr. Morrow furrowed his brows and the lines around his mouth tightened. “That’s not necessary, Ms. Dixon. This no longer concerns you.”