I hear Kingston baby-talking to Prince, then the faint sound of Princeton’s little giggles. Leaning back, I look into the living room and see Kings with his arms extended in the air and Prince in his hands. He lies on his back, his muscles straining, and it makes my insides go all wonky. Every time Kings brings him back down, he kisses his little lips. My heart warms at the sight.
“Kingston, dinner is ready.”
“Yeah.” Getting up, they come in the room.
We’re silent for most of dinner. I feed Prince while Kings digs into his steak. As he takes a swig of his beer, I feel his eyes on me. Looking up, I give him a small smirk.
He’s first to break our standoff. “How was it today with my dad and Kathy?”
I nod my head, keeping my eyes engaged with his stormy green ones. We both look exhausted. “It went well. He was happy to see Little Man.” Running my finger up the length of Princeton’s nose, I memorize it as his little eyes wonder back and forth from me to Kingston. The button of his nose is warm and still has a little hint of red, same with his cheeks. He looks like porcelain, and I want to treat him as such.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
We fall silent again, his attempt at talking failed on both our parts. When he finishes his beer, I see he still has some steak left.
“Want another beer?”
He hesitates, gauging me, watching me as I stand to move to the fridge. He doesn’t let his eyes waver, looking to me with heaviness, eyes hooded, like I’m both a dream and a scary reality.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Today, we have spoken maybe a handful of words, and it only makes that distance I practically forced on him stronger. Emotionally, physically, and now even verbally, we’re who we were the day we moved to Seattle.
Just a few months ago, we were happy. We were pregnant, he bought us a home, I said yes to even marrying him, and now I can’t find the willpower to make things work with him like I promised. The darkness within me is swallowing me whole, changing me from the inside out. I want so badly to admit everything to Kingston, confess at his feet how afraid I am, but that’s accepting defeat and weakness, and I don’t want to be weak.
“Here.” I hand it to him, and when our fingers touch, electric bolts flood through me, making my words come out, desperate to be on his good side again. “You want to go to a movie together tomorrow? Me and you?”
His eyes sparkle, lighting with hope, and my stomach unravels its knots.
“No, I have to work late. Maybe another time.” Faster than that light of hope sparked, rejection fires deep inside me.
“Oh, okay.”
“Lana.” He clutches his utensils in his fists, his eyes on his plate and his head low like his voice. “You asked for space, and this is me giving it to you.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and will the tears to stay hidden. I distract myself by picking up Prince to get him ready for bed.
“Sure.” Walking away, my feet leaving dust in their wake, I walk up the stairs on shaky legs, my eyes watering. I don’t blame him for his cold exterior; I asked for this. Entering the bathroom, I let the tears fall and my sniffles go unrestrained, not bothering to hold them back. Grabbing Princeton’s baby bather, I start the water, checking the temperature before getting him ready for his bath. When he’s seated, I grab some tissues and wipe away all the water running down my face.
Being at odds with the one I love, all because of me, is destroying me more than what I already was. I dig the sword deeper, all while I have the power to pull it out and never put it in, in the first place. I’m torn between two choices in which I hold all the power—all the power—yet I don’t know which side to choose.
It’s hard to not want Lana, to not fucking reach for her in the night or even the fucking daytime. She looked so damn good when I got home tonight, but last night, she made it clear I was too much. Those words still echo in my mind; they did all day. I’m hurting. Really bad.
Tonight, she tried to pull me back in and ask me to spend time with her not even twenty-four hours after she, in not so many words, told me to fuck off. Lana is falling out of love with me. I know this, because some scary part within me knows I might be falling out of love with her.
Never in any world, universe, or time did I think I would fall out of love with Lana James. I have to see our therapist tomorrow, and I know that with this new revelation comes my admission. I will have to say out loud that I’m starting to fall out of love with Lana. Not because I don’t still want her or need her, it’s because I still want and need her. I depend too much on her, depend too much on who we are in order to be happy. I can’t be with her when those desires, wants, and needs cannot be met. Because I would be fighting forever in a losing battle.
I also know this isn’t the life I want my son to grow up in. I would rather him see us apart than together, miserable, and drawing each other closer to the edge of darkness. He’s only four months, and the hostility is already fucking there. We should be growing closer together, celebrating not only each other, but the life of our son—like my sister and Trey. Trey’s the happiest I have ever seen him and they’re a united front, a solid team, while Lana and I seem more like enemies.
I let the hot water roll over my swollen muscles, the evidence from my gym session tugging on them. Lana bathed Prince and I helped her put him to bed. After my shower, I plan to sneak in there and fall asleep next to his crib again, listening to the sound of his breathing to make me feel whole.
Washing my body with soap, I rub my aching abs and swollen shoulders, kneading out the knots and aches.
“Kingston? Your phone is ringing. It’s your dad.” Lana’s voice slices through the sound of the running water. I see her silhouette in the doorway through the foggy glass of the shower.
“Can you answer and tell him I’ll call him back?”
“Yeah, of course.”