Forever Us (Always and Forever 4)

“No, it’s not. Your Facebook Messenger is blowing up. You should really check it.”

Looking bewildered, he shakes his head. “What?”

I turn to leave, needing some space, but I make sure he hears me loud and clear for this part. “Wouldn’t want to keep Hilary waiting.” With that, I head up the stairs, my adrenaline high and my body heavy with anger.

“Lana, fuck! Shit!”

I hear him coming up after me and I increase my speed. “No. Stay away from me. I can’t even look at you right now.” I slam our bedroom door before he can reach me, and I lock it with my free hand. Prince stares up at me, and I swear I can feel him looking into my soul. “I’m so glad you are too little to understand. ‘Cause Daddy really hurt your mama.”

His hands flex on the bottle and his green eyes begin to lazily flutter shut. What I wouldn’t give to switch places with him.

I hear Kings pacing the hall, using all his restraint, I’m sure, to not bust down this door to get to me. I hope he knows what this has done to me, how badly this hurt. Hilary is trash, danger, nothing but trouble, and whether he told her to leave him alone or not, he still let her in our life. She’s his ex, and her sleeping with Joel to hurt me after spending a few years sleeping with Kingston has me green with jealousy.

She wants in and he let her. He looked at her pictures, pleasured himself to her naked body, and I’m not going to sit here and act like it didn’t feel like a dagger to my heart when I learned that. With a tiny sigh, Prince finishes the bottle and I make work at burping him, doing whatever I can to get the image of her out of my head and the hurt from him out of my heart.

“Lana, I fucked up, baby. But it’s not what you think. Open the door so we can talk this out. Come on, baby girl.”

“No, Kingston, I don’t want to. Go give her a call and talk it out, since she’s who you turn to when we’re having problems,” I say through the door.

“Don’t act like that. We aren’t kids, Lana. Don’t fucking put me in that box,” he huffs. I don’t care if he thinks I’m childish for throwing a fit. My feelings are truly hurt. This isn’t just some high school game; this is my past knocking on the front door.

“You put yourself there. How could you look at her— How could you do that to me?” I drop my head, and suddenly I don’t feel like I can stay angry, at least as much as I would like to be. Instead, I have a strong moment of weakness, the pain taking advantage of that and seeping its way in.

“I swear to God, Lana. I didn’t.”

“I saw the picture, and I saw what you were doing that night. I know I was depriving us of that intimacy, and I know I haven’t looked my best since Prince was born, but that gives you no right to cheat on me.” I wipe at the tears and still bob our son on my hip as he chews on his finger.

“First, I didn’t fucking cheat. Second, don’t you ever say you aren’t anything but fucking perfect. I never cheated, and I never fucking will, so you can throw out that excuse and try again.”

If he could only see the way I am looking at him. My jaw practically falls to the floor and my eyes widen. Quickly, I close my mouth and grit my teeth.

“You are such a smug bastard. This isn’t an excuse, Kingston. I’m not doing this for fun or for attention. You hurt me and you messed up. You’re the one who did this. Don’t flip it on me.” I wait a second, hearing him move around outside the door. I think for a split second that maybe my words shut him up and he’s going to walk away so I can have some privacy.

But then I hear the loud shattering of glass and a dull cra

cking sound in the foundation of our house.

“Goddamn it, Lana, open the fucking door!” he roars, and I feel the rage all the way from here. I hurry to cover Princeton in a tight embrace, hoping he doesn’t cry when he shifts a little from my movement. Looking down, I see he has dozed off again and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Placing him down in the bassinet, I take a few long, drawn out breaths as I get ready to face Kingston. I would normally back down in fear, but instead I am ready to stand up and defend myself. He’s my partner, my best friend, the father of our child, and he betrayed me.

Opening the bedroom door, he pushes off the wall of the hallway and he’s on me before I can even protest. Picking me up with his large arms around my waist, he pulls me flush against him. I don’t resist, but I sure as hell do not make it easy, going dead weight in his arms.

“I fucked up. I talked to her, and that was my biggest mistake, but I never once flirted or indicated I wanted anything from her,” he whispers between us, the whole puppy dog look almost making me cave.

“Then why did you do it? Why even talk to her, knowing she wanted you and you could make her think you wanted her?” I find my voice again and reaffirm my stance.

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted someone to talk to. You didn’t fucking want me, L. We were over, and I just liked knowing that the roles were reversed.”

I shake my head and push against his chest. That was the wrong answer. “Great, so you did want her attention. You wanted something out of this.”

“Yeah, fucking revenge!” he shouts as I break free from his hold.

“Revenge?” My head whips up and I glare into his dilated eyes.

“I wanted to watch someone want me while I pushed them away, because I had no interest in wanting them back—just like you did!”

Oh, that’s rich. How dare he do that and use me as his scapegoat!