Tristan and Miles: Baby Hollingsworth (BOYXBOY)

Chapter 15 Check your privilege

Tristan's POV

It's been a while since I've spoken to Zoe. I was so busy with Hope and with all this school work that I barely even hard time for myself. Miles has been so busy with training these days. Most of the time he comes home and he tries to make an effort to spend time with me. I feed bad because it's always a "I'm busy with Hope" or "I'm doing homework" or "I'm too tired." I had finished preparing Hope's bottle when I see my little 6 month old crawling to coffee table. I immediately run towards her and picked her up. She smiled as I pressed her against my shoulder.

"Bababa doo doo ba da," she babbles. I chuckle as I placed her down in her crib and handed her her bottle. I turned on the TV and continued with homework.

"Honey I'm home," Miles says as he enters the living room. I smile at him as he took his seat beside me.

"I miss you," I told him. "It's been like forever since we've actually had a conversation," he nodded as he rested his arm around me.

"School has been hectic. Simpson keeps emailing me the class valedictorian speech. He thinks I should do it," he told me. I quickly glanced at Hope who was playing with her toes.

"That's nice..." I replied.

"Well yeah but it isn't really my thing, you know. It's more of your thing. You're good at speeches. How's your GPA doing anyway?" He asked in a tone that kind of offended me.

"I haven't checked. I'm so busy being a good dad and all," I replied coldly. Miles removed his hand and clasped them together.

"Are you saying I'm a bad dad because I can't be here for my daughter?" He said as he stood up. "At least I'm working for us and juggling school at the same time. Doing pretty well in school, actually,"

"And I'm not? I'm doing the best I can for us by staying at home with our little girl, a little girl that you helped make," we started to raise our voices at each other. "Why do I have to be the to stay home all the time?" Miles stared at me, confused. I wasn't going to let him treat me bad just because he was doing better in school than me.

"Because you gave birth to her! I don't know...I'm the one making the money," he said. "And you're the one who stays home with the baby, does laundry, cooks," I raised by eye brow at him. How dare he.

"So you're saying that my place is here? What if I wanna go to school? Or get a job?"

"Well I hate to burst your bubble but you can't. Not when you have a baby to take care of," he had his hands in his pockets. We were quiet for a moment then Hope started to cry. I stared at her with my arms crossed.

"Aren't you gonna pick her up?" Miles said. I glared at him before I picked up my daughter.

"Hope is you. Hope is me. The warmth I feel and the love I see," I sang. Soon enough she was fast asleep. I slowly set her down in her crib and went into the kitchen to have dinner. My parents were out of town and so was Owen. Miles and I practically had the house all to ourselves, not that it meant anything or whatever.

"Do you want something, boss?" I asked as I angrily opened the fridge. Miles pulled out a chair for him and sat down.

"Maybe a sandwich. What are you gonna have?" He asked. I searched the fridge and found left over chicken salad and some meat loaf I had made a few nights ago. I took them out and set them on the table.

"Here. Help yourself," I said still standing. Miles nodded as he got up and grabbed a plate for the rack. He put was about to put his food on the plate. I shook my head and laughed.

"Are you planning on heating that up?" I asked him. He looked at me and nodded. I let a chuckle escape my mouth by accident.

"What's so funny?" He glared. I took his plate and tapped the side of it with my finger.

"This isn't microwavable, hun. You're going to make our microwave explode..." he stared down at the plate and realized what I had told him. He grabbed another plate and sighed.

"Okay, what's your deal?" He asked me.

"Nothing, I just don't think we can afford another microwave if you break-"

"Im not talking about that, Tris." He said as he pulled me close to him. "Why are you mad at me? Please tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it," I sighed. I didn't like fighting with him. It didn't feel right. But I ha to fight in what I believed in.