Always Us (Always and Forever 2)

“Hey, Gwen, we’re in here,” Trey shouts, sitting down at the bar and pulling out his phone. Making work at it with great intent, practically zoning us out.

I look over my shoulder and give a curt nod accompanied with a small smirk. I don’t miss the way she rolls her eyes at me. Oh, that’s how it’s going to be? Keep it up, Gwen, I already don’t like your saggy ass.

“Hello, how are you?” Trey stops for a second to hug and acknowledge her. While I take a swig of my wine and prepare for a night of fake laughter, head nods, and awkward silence.

You got this, Shay.

“Thanks for coming.” Trey kisses her cheek and I cringe. Those lips shouldn’t touch her.

“And how are you, Shayla?” My name leaving her lips sounds so forced, as if it’s a hard shit she can’t get out. I really don’t know how I’ll go the rest of my life pretending to like her.

“Hey, Gwen, I hope you like chicken Alfredo with veggies. It’s Trey’s favorite.”

“I used to make him this great spaghetti, he loved it. I’m surprised he likes anything else, that’s all he would ask for.”

I’m sure that’s all she ever cooked when he was six years old, I don’t think he had a wide palette for exotic foods, so no shit he enjoyed it. Man, I am a bitter bitch tonight, sass on point.

“He loves my spaghetti and meat sauce, but I decided I would make him this instead. He loves it now.” Doing my best to seem relaxed and less annoyed with my rebuttal.

“Oh, well, I’ll probably just have veggies. Chicken isn’t my favorite and yours looks dry, so it’s a double no for me, but thank you.” My eyes jump to hers, they squint and my lips glue together. Trey is too busy with emails, completely missing her catty comment. Did she really have to say that? How rude—how classless.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea. I can whip something else up if you’d like?” Trey finally hears me, joining in on the conversation.

“Why would you cook anything else, this is perfect, baby?” I smile inwardly at the small victory when he comes to me and places his hands on my shoulders, massaging them gently.

“Your mom doesn’t like chicken, apparently, and she said mine’s dry.” I throw her ass under the bus.

“Oh, no I do. I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry.” Her sentence is hurried, with a hint of vulnerability. Hanging her head, she stares at the ground. Oh, she’s good, she’s good. Game on, troll.

“Baby.” Lowering his head he whispers in my ear, “Play nice.”

I shiver and not from the good old arousal shiver, but the irritated kind. This woman thinks she can just play the fiddle and get away with everything. Not on my watch—not in my house.

“I was just trying to be accommodating. Dinner is done. I’m going to set the table.” I give a snappy reply then create some space, collecting the plates and making work at the table. I expect him to pull me back in or beckon me back to him, but he doesn’t, instead, he blows me off, only fueling my irritation.

“Okay, well, I’ve been working all day. I’m gonna freshen up, I’ll be out in ten minutes. Gwen, get comfortable, there’s some wine and beer in the fridge.” Trey leaves, walking down the hall toward my bedroom. I hear the door shut to the bathroom and my body becomes well aware that Gwen and I are now alone, my shoulders tense and I feel the deep frown stretch across my face.

“So, you guys are engaged. I must say I’m shocked.” I turn to look at her, not at all sure where this is going. However, Gwen has never been pleasant when she has been around me and usually she likes to stir the pot and say some messed up things to get me going. One time I went to lunch with her and Trey and when he left to go to the restroom, she tried to tell me Trey was looking at other women when I wasn’t paying attention. Really? How childish and trivial is that?

“Why would you be shocked?” I entertain her.

“Well, I didn’t think my son would marry someone who’s really good at lying, I thought he would choose better.” Appalled by her insult, I stare at her for a minute, at a loss for words. Where does this woman get off thinking she can say things like that to me and what the hell is she talking about, or better yet, making up in her twisted freaking head?

Not sure if I should ignore her or take the bait, I go with the latter, because she bluntly just called me a liar.

“I’m sorry?” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Your pregnancy secret,” she says smoothly, with no kind emotion in her voice. I feel like we’re chest to chest in this huge room, when really we are on opposite sides of the room. The walls are closing in and my head begins to sting. I can feel my throat going dry, my hands become clammy. Debating to run out of the room, I wield myself, nearly forcefully to stay put and face off with this neurotic woman.

“How did you know?” I ask her with a quiver. There’s no way she could have known about me not being able to get pregnant. I don’t know whether to be scared or anxious with the knowledge that she somehow knows. I have only talked to this woman a handful of times in my life, two of those times I told her to stay away from Trey, with good reason. But I was nice at our last meeting, leading her to believe I had no problem with her. Why would she go through all this trouble to sabotage me? I knew she was scum, I knew we shouldn’t have trusted her.

“I have my ways, but those I’ll keep to myself. So, you need to promise me something.” She wraps her hands around the back of my gray dining room chair, her white tip dragon nails thrumming a rhythm while she waits for me to answer. The gall of this woman, standing in my home and attempting to scare me enough to blackmail me.

But seeing Gwen like this—threatening me for no reason, scares me—chills me to the bone, and the last thing I need is her telling Trey the secret I’ve been hiding. Turning desperate, I’ll do anything to make sure Trey doesn’t know about this until I’m sure what it means for us.

“What?” I swallow loudly, my heart dropping, my stomach hollowing out. My eyes becoming hazy with tears. Here I am giving into her threats, letting her feed me poison, which I take willingly from her dirty hands. What other option do I have though? If she tells Trey before me, he may never forgive me for hiding this secret for as long as I have.

“You stay out of my son’s choice to forgive me, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about your little situation.” She points at my stomach and it’s like a kick to the gut, even someone as vile as her can make me feel less than.