'Tis The Season

Scoffing, he unlaces his boots. “How many times do I have to apologize?”

“You don’t, since it’s a waste of our time and your breath.”

He huffs, and I hold up my hand. “I saw your true colors, Preston, and it wasn’t just ugly. It was horrifying and abusive. You aren’t the man I thought you were. No,” I shake my head, “that you pretended to be. I will never keep you from our daughter, but I want nothing to do with you romantically.”

“You’re going to let two years go up in smoke?”

“Yes, because I can’t help but wonder what else you lied about.”

He splutters like water went down the wrong way. “Don’t you think you’re over the top?”

“No, I don’t,” I reply.

He likes to play on my emotions and make me seem as if I’m throwing a tantrum and being childish. My points are valid. I won’t let him shake my belief in myself.

“Us separate but civil is what’s best for her.” I rub my belly, taking strength from the innocent life I vowed to protect.

“No, you want to punish me. What’s best for her is a two-parent home where she won’t want for anything and will get the attention she deserves. What are you going to do? Shove her in daycares all the time?”

It’s a low blow. I glance away.

“Plenty of people use daycare.”

“Because they have no choice. You do. Why wouldn’t you want to give our child every advantage?”

His words make me feel selfish. I toy with the fringe on my cardigan. Is he right?

“Marriage, to me, is a partnership. It requires compromise, honesty, and trust. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

He reaches out and cups my face. “Didn’t I take care of you?”

“Yes,” I answer, honestly.

“Did you ever want for anything?” He forces my gaze up to meet his.

“No,” I whisper hoarsely as my mouth dries out.

“And you were happy, weren’t you? We were in love and about to get married, Faye.”

“I thought I was. Now I’m not so sure.” What we had was pleasant. I felt secure and content. But was that love?

“Bullshit. It’s not like I cheated.” His snarl makes me jump. “I was good to you, and I’m getting tired of this stubbornness you’ve decided to develop.”

Had I really been such a pushover with him?

Keys jingle, and the lock turns in the tumbler. The door swings open to reveal my brother bursting in like a bull about to wreck china. I’ve never been so ecstatic to see Warren. My brother looks at us and stands to his full six-foot-two.

“You’re back bugging my sister again, I see.”

Preston wrinkles his nose as if he smells something foul. “It’s time for her doctor’s appointment. I want to see Brigitte.”

“That’s not going to be her name,” Warren replies.

“It sure as hell won’t be Flora.”

“You seem real certain, considering I’m the one who has to push her out.” I take strength from my brother’s presence.

“What the hell happened to you?” Preston asks, frustrated.