19
1157 Words
Two days later...
I lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The day before Layla left me plays in my mind.
We were having our daily argument, in our bedroom.
She had came to get something, then I said some s**t that upset her.
I don't know how it got to me working, but it escalated.
"You're always gone!"
"The f**k do you expect from me?!"
I'll never forget what she said:
She looked at me, her hands up, rising and falling in helplessness.
"I just want to love you," she said calmly.
"But if it's not right, what can I do?"
She smiled at me softly, her eyebrows pulled in a frown.
"You know what? Everything will be alright," she said softly, pull her hands down in a calming motion.
"So get some sleep tonight baby." She smiled shakily, leaving the room and shut the door behind her softly.
The next morning she left me.
Only when Addison jumps on my chest do I realize I was dreaming.
"C'mon Dad, we hafta get Momma!"
Coughing, I gently slam his head on the bed beside me.
"Ugh, Dad," He whines, sitting up. "Up Dad! I miss my Momma!"
"Okay, okay! It's too early to be up on a Saturday," I grumble.
"If it's for my Momma it isn't," he says, his head c****d, one eyebrow raised, daring me to say otherwise.
Just. Like. His. Mother.
She does the exact same thing, except she puts her hands on her hips.
"I'm going, I'm going!"
WHEN WE STEP in the room, Addison launches himself at his Momma before I can tell him to be careful.
"Momma, Momma! I missed you!" She smiles, wrapping him in her arms.
"I missed you too, bub!"
She's such a good mother. I love that about her.
They chattered on for a moment or two(an hour and half, I counted), Addison talking animatedly about school, Elle, and the kids(she bought another doll), and about Max and Sloane and Penny.
Layla listened enthustically., laughing and asking questions.
After a while, though she asked Addison to step out.
The serious look on her face caught my attention.
"Look, I'm gonna to be upfront. I'm pregnant. Again. It's yours. Again."
My heart skips several beats.
"And because I'm a stupid b***h, I'm gonna let you be there, because she's yours too."
What is air?
"But we're not doing the same dumb s**t again. You mess up, you're done. Three strikes you're out."
This is really happening, then?
"No matter what you do, I'm their Mother. They're my children, and we will move on regardless."
I know you will. That's why I'd never want have children with anyone else.
"If you want to stay with me I'm good with that. All as long as it's peaceful, as long as seven from now I'm taking my daughter to preschool."
"Our," I corrected absentmindedly, processing everything. "Our daughter."
Why am I not shocked? Why am I not scared or nervous?
Because you did it on purpose.
Oh yeah.
Four months ago...
"Baby, I know you're mad at me, but let me explain—"
"What's there to explain, Sebastian?!" She starts flinging clothes around.
"You're driving me crazy; all I do is yell at you, day in and day out, and I'm sick of it!"
"I know Peaches, I know and I'm sorry. I care for you a lot okay? Let me make it up to you,"
Standing behind her, I see her drop some clothes going limp in my arms.
I love it when she melts under my touch.
"I don't need anyone else, hm?" I pepper kisses down her throat, and she coolly gives me access, humming back at me.
I could tell she still pissed at me, her jaw was clenched, her lips pursed.
I wrap my arms around her middle, sucking on her throat just the way she likes it.
Drawing a soft moan from her, I let my hands span her belly.
"Who can compare to you, Peaches? You're perfect. Perfect t**s, perfect ass, perfect personality,"
By this time, I'm backing us towards the bed, sliding off her clothes.
"Besides, you carried my seed; you had my son. Who else is there? Why would make you think otherwise?"
Her body fell on the bed with a soft thud, bouncing a bit. Crawling over her, I start at her belly, kissing every stretch mark, everything she thought was an imperfection.
I meant everything I said; and I didn't cheat on her. During that five years she was in my house, I didn't f**k another woman—in any way.
I did however, allow them to hang over me with the intent of pissing her off. But no matter how much we fought, or how our relationship was, she's always been perfect to me.
Always.
Especially after she had my son.
When I finally get her naked and bare for me, I ate her until she couldn't scream my name. Then I lined us up.
She was so strung out on post-orgasm high, she didn't bother to make me wear a condom like usual.
Without a second thought I entered her, and f****d for a good couple hours.
I knew she was close to her breaking point; knew that this was most likely the night she'd peace and walk out on me.
We made love like we never would again; forgetting about the past, my fuckups.
And because I knew she'd leave me, it somehow, at the time, made sense to deliberately try to impregnate her.
In my defense, I didn't think it out. I knew if she left, she wouldn't take my money. I also knew I could find her in a heart beat, and send anonymous help.
Still stupid, but hey. What can I say.
I came inside her, turned us over and left it in all night.
I wanted her to have my baby, again.
And here we are; she's pregnant.
"You're about four months right?" Her eyes narrowed.
"How did you know that?"
"Peaches I'm a math whiz. The last time we were together was about four months ago, and I know you wouldn't have anybody come in your house with Addie there."
We sat in silence.
"Wait, why are you in here then? It doesn't take four days to do an ultrasound and a bloodtes.t,"
Layla glanced down.
"I had some problems with blood pressure; they took my blood as a routine, found out I was pregnant so they kept me here for observation."
I nodded then scowled.
"Don't keep things from me, Peaches. Don't keep things from me, and I won't keep things from you. We'll have an honest relationship this time."
She nodded curtly. I get up with a smile, saddling next her on her bed.
"Thank you," I peck her lips, "for blessing me with another child," peck, "I'll do better," peck, "I promise." Peck.
She swats me away laughing.
- Writer
