Skila

I hear a car pull into the drive and I know it's Kiptyn. I've been so worried about him. First, he doesn’t come home from the hospital, doesn’t call or text at all, and then, when I've had enough waiting and decide to call his phone, Chris answers and tells me he must have left it. I hear music playing in the background and women whispering close to his ear.

My blood boils.

He's at a club.

I can tell just from the racket I hear over the line, and the bastard didn’t even bother to call me and let me know. What did the doctor say? Is his injury serious? Why the hell did he decide to go out partying instead of coming home to me? I remind myself that he isn’t exactly mine and I have no right to question where he is, but it’s hard to calm the storm raging inside of me. I will not sit at the house, cook his meals, wash his clothes, warm his bed, and be treated like a house mat.

I’m standing at the top of the stairs when the door opens and Kiptyn walks in. He leaves the door ajar, and hot on his heels is a busty blonde. She laughs when he stumbles over the rug in the entryway and shuts the door behind her. I can't believe this. He actually thought to bring a woman home with him while I’m here?

My jaw drops, and I stand there motionless. I can’t believe what my eyes are telling me. It can’t be. I rub the sockets, and when I open them, I see both of them again, clear as day. I turn on my heel and stomp off to the master bedroom.

That stupid, no good for nothing, rotten piece of . . . ugh. I grab an overnight bag from the closet and start shoving anything and everything of mine I can find into it. I'm leaving. I refuse to stay here and be treated like this. I hear the bedroom door open and then his soft shuffle across the carpeted floor. His arms wrap around me from behind, and I flinch.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off me,” I grit through my teeth. The tone must surprise him, because he releases me and spins me around to face him. I stare into the face of the man I wanted to share my life with, and all I feel is pain. My heart shatters at the forlorn look on his face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks me, seeming confused, and I scoff.

“What’s wrong? Did you think I would be ok with it?” I ask, my voice rising, my chest heaving. I want to scream and curse him, but I remind myself of the baby and force myself to calm down.

“Okay with what, baby? I just had a few shots, love. Really,” he explains, and I laugh.

It’s dry, humorless. I couldn’t care less how much he drank. Of course, I would have liked for him to call me and let me know he was going out, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. No, I’m crushed because of the blonde bimbo downstairs. The one he brought home to our house.

I stop myself there. It's not our house, it’s his. I was just a welcomed visitor for a time. It’s time to wake up and smell the roses. Kiptyn clearly isn’t the man I thought he was, and I was a fool to think we had a future. I’ll still allow him to be a part of the baby’s life. I’m not going to be one of those petty bitches that shut people out of their child's life just because I don’t like them.

“And what about the blonde bitch who brought you home, Kip? Who the fuck is that?”

“Sky? Baby . . . seriously? I was drunk as fuck trying to leave the club, and she walked up on me trying to open the car door like a fucking idiot. She offered to drive me here so I didn’t kill myself. That’s all. I swear, baby. Nothing at all has happened or will ever happen with me and another woman. You’re it for me. Period.”

“Kip, I just can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to process all of this. You say I’m it, and yet you shut me out. You make me leave the hospital and come home, and then you don’t call or show up here for hours, and when you do, it’s with another woman, and I’m supposed to be okay with this? No. I’m not. You need to think about what you really want, Kiptyn, and how you plan on achieving that. Because this,” I say, waving my hand through the air, “isn’t the way to do it.”

Dropping my bag on the floor at my feet, I flee the room. I can't stand to be around him anymore. Just the sight of him sickens me and makes me feel like I'm about to lose my dinner.

Halfway down the stairs, I realize the blonde is still here. She's standing on the front porch, staring at the stars. When I open the door, she jumps and swivels around. Her eyes round and bulge at the sight coming for her, but I sidestep and brush past her.

“Are you okay?” she calls after me, but I don’t bother stopping or answering her. How the hell would I be okay? Is she serious? If I wasn’t pregnant and barefoot at the moment, I'd be tempted to snatch handfuls of her silky platinum strands and drag her down the drive, kicking and screaming all the while. Am I okay? Ha.

Thankfully, my car is still parked in the circular drive. I climb in just as Kiptyn makes his drunken way out the front door, stumbling and looking as dumbfounded as the blonde at his side. Slamming the car into drive, I peel out, fishtailing just a tad before the car rights itself and I clear his driveway.

I should have known better. No one as amazing as Kiptyn could ever be happy with just one woman, and if the tabloids are any indication to the man he is, then he isn’t even close to settling down. I thought it was different with us. Stupid, I know, but the way he was with me was totally different from his usual one-night stands with random women at bars and clubs. It was more.

The hope that had been building in my chest is crushed, stamped out by the four-inch heels and tanned legs of a blonde bimbo. Never again. I refuse to let myself go through this chaos ever again. Not one, but now two Price brothers had used me, and when done, tossed me to the trash like last night's takeout.

Tears stream down my face, collecting at the base of my throat and settling there, an itchy reminder of the painful truth. Taking a deep breath, I slow my car until I'm driving closer to the speed limit, and then I crank up the radio, praying there’s something good on. Adele’s beautiful voice greets me, and I sob louder. I can't even bear to change the station. It's like she’s singing for the both of us right now. I clench my hands on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white under the pressure, and sing my heart out to Hello.

When I pull into the parking garage at Lisa’s, I pull down the mirror and attempt to make myself look more normal. It's no use. My eyes are swollen and puffy from all the tears I've shed in the twenty-minute ride over, and my nose is so stuffed up that I probably sound more like Daffy Duck than a human being. I rub my hands against my face once more and then climb from my Civic.

I don’t even know if Lisa is home. I can’t call or text her and find out since I stormed out of Kiptyn’s house with just the clothes on my back. People eye me warily when I enter, noting my lack of shoes and the disheveled look of the rest of me. I don’t care. Stare all you want, people. You don’t mean shit to me. No one does, least of all Kiptyn Price.

Oh God, how I wish that were true.