Mommy, Please Marry My Best Friend's Alpha Daddy

Kristen “I can’t believe he brought the b.itch to Joy’s birthday party!” I grumbled as I watched my estranged husband help his beautiful young mistress out of his Cadillac Escalade. I leaned my hands on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath to try and quell the angry tremor that ran through my body. The small, modest home that I had once shared with Kevin was decorated with white and purple balloons, streamers, and a gold foil HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner. Kevin had moved out months ago, but he was still the father of my child. For Joy’s sake I had invited the man to our daughter’s birthday party. I thought Kevin and I could be civil and polite long enough for Joy to blow out her candles, eat some rainbow unicorn cake and open her presents. But I hadn’t expected he would be tacky enough to bring Flora with him. “Daddy’s here! I made him a special surprise!” Joy cried, rushing to the door and flinging it open to welcome her father. I also had a special surprise for Kevin Jackson. My lawyer had drawn up the divorce papers. They were sitting in a brown envelope on my drawing table. I planned to give the documents to him after the party was over. But Joy’s enthusiasm made me hesitate once again. Was I really doing the right thing? Joy was so excited to see her father, even though it had been more than a month since he’d made time for her. Would it be better if we stayed together, tried to work things out? For Joy’s sake? I would do anything for my daughter. Even stay in a miserable marriage with a cheating scumbag. Kevin was a nobody when I met him. I was fresh out of college, and he had an entry-level position at Firehawk Entertainment. He didn’t have two pennies to rub together, but I didn’t care. I loved him madly. He was handsome, charming, and he swept me off my feet. Before I knew it, we were married, we had closed on this small house in the suburbs, and I was pregnant with Joy. I left my career to be a stay-at-home mom, and to support my husband as he struggled to climb the ladder in a harsh, competitive industry. Kevin was driven to succeed, and I proudly stood behind him as he steadily moved up from assistant, to agent, to middle-management until he finally arrived at the top. I put up with the lonely late nights, the weeks of travel, the incessant phone calls and meetings, because I believed he was doing it all for us, for our little family. What a joke. Flora wasn't the first woman Kevin had bedded during our seven-year marriage. And unfortunately for her, she probably wouldn’t be the last in the long line of young hopeful models and actresses who were willing to trade s*x for a jump start in their careers. To be fair, Flora was an exceptional beauty. She had that tall willowy frame that was all the rage on the runways. Her naturally blond hair had been expertly enhanced at the salon, and I suspected her too-perky, gravity- defying breasts had also been expertly crafted by some very talented surgeons. She had been Firehawk’s top model for the last three years. In short, she was everything that I was not. She was also, I realized as Keven ushered her through the door, quite obviously pregnant, and making no effort to hide it. In fact when she saw my eyes move over the baby bump, she purposely cradled it with her palm. “Hello, Kristen,” Kevin barely glanced in my direction before he squatted and offered Joy a large, professionally wrapped gift box. That meant he hadn’t even picked out the gift himself, he had sent his assistant to buy it. “Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Joy grabbed the present and went to place it on the table next to her cake in the dining room. “Hello again, Flora,” I forced my stiff face into a fake smile. “I see congratulations are in order.” “Yes, we are expecting,” Flora said happily, wrapping her fingers around Kevin’s arm possessively. “I can’t hide it any more so we are about to go public.” I carefully shut the door behind them as they sauntered into my living room like it was their house. Well, technically, it was still Kevin’s house, but I hoped the judge could rectify that during our divorce proceedings. Kevin sat on the sofa, draped his arm along the back cushions, and pulled out his phone like he was already bored. Flora went on talking like she and I were the best of friends. “I’m so excited to be carrying Kevin’s baby!” “Oh, so you are sure he’s the father?” I quipped sarcastically. “Of course he’s the father!” She snapped, her friendly veneer cracking. She might have been an amazing model, but she was a terrible actress. “How far along are you?” I asked casually. “Five and a half months!” She boasted proudly, posing in front of the bay window so that I could get the full effect of her pregnant silhouette. Just as I suspected, Kevin had knocked her up before we had even officially separated. I scoffed under my breath, earning me a scowl from Kevin. “I’ll go get some beverages,” I said tightly. I needed to get away from the disgusting display of infidelity before I threw up all over Flora’s designer maternity dress. Unfortunately she followed me into the kitchen. She propped one leg up on the counter stool and watched as I pulled the cans of cheap, generic soda from the bottom of the fridge. “We’ve already had an ultrasound,” she said smoothly. “It’s a boy.” She put a lot of emphasis on the word boy. “Congratulations,” I repeated. What did I care if it was a girl or a boy? It could be a pink elephant for all I cared. “You know what that means, right?” She smirked. I sighed and popped the top of a cola. “You’ll be painting the nursery blue?” She pushed off the bar stool and stalked closer. Even without her high-heeled sandals she towered over me. “It means I’ve given Kevin a legitimate male heir. Your brat is irrelevant.” I tipped back the soda and took a long guzzle, letting the bubbles burn the back of my throat. I rather wished it was something stronger. I finished with a very noisy and unladylike burp. “What century are you from? Who cares if it’s a boy or a girl? A girl has just as many rights as a boy. And!” I slammed the soda can down on the counter, “If you want to argue about legitimacy! I’m still Kevin’s legal wife. You are just the side piece. Technically that makes your baby a bast—“ I didn’t finish the sentence because Joy had slipped quietly into the kitchen. “How dare you!” She took a threatening step forward and raised her arm like she intended to slap me. “Leave my mommy alone!” Joy screeched, inserting her small body between me and the taller woman, spreading her arms wide like a basketball player on defence. “Don’t touch her!” “What’s going on in there?” Joy’s shouts had roused Kevin from the couch. Just as the man appeared in the kitchen doorway, Flora lowered her arm, spun dramatically, and dropped gracefully to the floor. It was so neat, even her tight skirt didn’t ride up. Kevin rushed to her side. “Flora! My God! What happened?” Flora sniffed pitifully, brushed her perfect blond locks out of her face, and placed a hand over her belly. Then she looked up at me and Joy with an accusatory glare, and leveled a long manicured finger at my daughter. “She pushed me! I only came in to get a drink,” Flora whimpered. “But Joy pushed me. I—I lost my balance and I fell.” “Are you crazy? Nobody pushed you!” Joy said, full of six-year-indignation. “You even twirled when you fell, like this!” She did a clumsy pirouette on her toes, and then pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and mocked Flora in a high falsetto voice. “Oh! Save me! A little girl pushed me!”