Beverly
There was no response from him after I blurted: "I can't keep it", all that filled the room was soft breathing from behind me. He was asleep. Right arm tucked under my breast area, left hand, tightly wrapped around my waist, my ass pressing against his crotch, and since he was far into sleep, I couldn't bring myself to wake him up and repeat what I'd just said, so I forced myself to sleep that night.
The idea of being the mother of his baby excited me but the reality... our reality saddened me. It was like a 60kg stone chained to my legs, pulling me down an ocean of doubt and insecurities, because it was one thing to be in love and it was another to be in love with an elite nor—
"If you're going to stand there and stare into thin air, you might as well leave," He deadpans, drawing me back to reality as he looks away from me and walks over to the wardrobe.
It's silent for a few seconds before I break it. "Zay, I didn't realize how ba—"
"It's Zayyad," He sternly cuts off, back turned to me, hands still digging for whatever it is in the wardrobe.
"Sorry," I say, my eyes welling with fresh, hot tears.
The correction wasn't supposed to mean anything but mehn, it treacherously stings. The man at my store this morning, who looked like he was at my mercy, is different from the one in this room with me. That hold I had over him earlier is gone.
Maybe the invite here was even a trap, maybe he wanted to see if I was still stuck on him, or maybe he wants to destroy my ego by unleashing his emotions from two years ago, now... or hold on! Maybe he wanted me to come here so we could fuck... and me, fool, I've delivered myself like DHL package.
I fell inside his trap because I'm evidently not over this man, and whatever he says here is bound to hurt like a blade tearing open one's flesh.
He turns away from the wardrobe and looks at me, eyes reliving an emotion I can't decipher. "Surely you didn't come here to cry, did you?"
I exhale deeply, blinking my tears away before they roll down my cheeks. "I- I...d- didn't mean to hurt you, Zayyad." He rolls his eyes. "I wasn't ready..." I pause to take another deep breath. "I was scared."
"Spare me that bullcrap, will you?"
"No, I was scared. I mean it,"
He arches his right brow, mockingly interested. "Of what?..."
"Of everything," I answer, and his eyes soften, but his demeanor still has the guard up. "There were too many things on the line, Zayyad. I was– we were young. Too young. I still had Uni. I hadn't even achieved one-quarter of my dream. My life journey was ahead and I just couldn't cut it off for a baby... with no ring on my finger. What would people have said? My father would have flipped. My mother would have died of a heart attack. We weren't living in Disneyland, Zayyad. I had to,"
He stares at me. Unfazed. "Where'd all this come from? Because last I remember, you never, not even for two seconds, or even by accident told me any of these... and if you did, I would never have stopped you from whatever choice you decided to make," He says, tone calm and genuine. "You getting an abortion didn't break me as much as the deceit that came after it,"
I know where this is heading and God! I do not want to relive it, so I say: "I did that because I didn't wanna hurt or lose you,"
"But you did! You hurt the fuck out of me!" His voice is thunderous, and the pain glistening in his eyes just makes me want to kill myself. "I bought that house in London and put your name on the papers because I wanted you to have no fears being with me. I didn't want you to have an inch of doubt about how much I wanted you. I wanted your emotions secured, but fuck!" He massages his temples, letting out a loud breath. "I was so stupid."
The tears in my eyes begin to roll uncontrollably. "I was waiting for the right time to tell you, I promise I didn't mean for it to get that far,"
"What?" He furrows his brows, his nose scrunches up in irritation like I just spat on him. "You didn't mean for it to go that far? Was it a plan all along? Pretend to love him, get him to buy you a house while pretending to be pregnant..." — He pauses midway — "Were you ever even pregnant?"
"How dare you?" I say, shocked that he's bending the narrative. I sniffle before running the back of my hand under my nostrils, wiping the mucus from my nose on my hoodie.
He shrugs, almost like my tears are invincible. "I can think whatever I want, it's left for you to debunk it,"
"I was fuckin' pregnant. What the fuck? Why would you even ask me something that absurd?" I retort, "There was never any plan, my only mistake was not having an open conversation with you about how I felt about the pregnancy. Fear clouded my every decision... and for goodness sake, it was my body!" I cry.
"It was our baby!" He recalls, nose flared in building exasperation, "And this fear you suddenly speak off, why wasn't it there when we flew to London to buy the house you picked out? Why wasn't it there when we signed the documents? Honestly, Beverly, did you think I was a fool at some point?"
"No,"
"Nahhh," He flatly smiles, "you definitely thought I was a fool,"
"I didn't,"
"So, tell me why you're trying to make it seem like if you had told me you didn't want to keep it, I would have put a gun to your head and forced you to... because as much as I wanted that baby, you came first and I'd have supported you all the way, but you know what I realized..." He clenches his jaw, and swallows hard, almost like he's fighting angry tears from spilling. "...You were selfish and only wanted the privileges that came with how much I loved you,"
My heart cracks when he says those words and more tears spill from my eyes. It's that kind of crying where you just want to fall on the floor, curl into a ball and pass out from not being able to breathe because of how much pain you're in. "As much as I enjoyed those 'privileges' as you claim... it didn't change the fact that I did what I did to protect your happiness," I try to defend, my voice, betraying me as it comes out cracked.
He humorlessly chuckles. "Okay, at this point you're not thinking, you're just saying whatever to justify why you aborted the baby and continued to fake being pregnant... and honestly, all you've said so far still doesn't change the fact that what you did was low. It was cheap and fuckin' disgusting!" He bellows painfully, making his way to me, "I've never had someone go that low, not even in business," With each step he took, my heart beat faster until he stops a few inches away from me. Eyes, fixated on me, lacking emotion. "I wanted life with you, Eniola. I did; and walahi if you had told me you weren't ready and wanted to get an abortion... I would never have stopped you,"
His eyes are domineering and I almost forget how to breathe. "Zayyad, you were so happy about the pregnancy, I couldn't bring myself to talk about an abortion,"
"You were my happiness... the baby was just additional; you were all I needed and an abortion would not have removed a quarter percent from how much I loved you. You didn't have to bother what I'd have thought, you could have just told me... but you presumed, you did it behind my back and made a fool out of me for weeks..."
Were. Loved. Needed. The past tenses are killing me but I remain silently defeated and defenseless as he continues; "...You have no idea how much I've had to deal with the emotions you left me with. Did I not make you feel safe enough or did I love you too much it was so easy for you to take advantage of it?"
I shake my head, desperately. "No, Zayyad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking enough, and I didn't mean any of what did," I move a few inches away from him, ready to leave this room and just disappear forever. "If I knew the gravity of my action, I never would have attempted... for heaven's sake, who would want to throw what we had away? I loved you,"
"Did you really?"
"Yes,"
"You don't break people you love. You broke me, Eniola, you did, and damn! I want to hate you, I want to be mad at you and hate you so bad but fuck! I can't." He whispers the last sentence before cupping my face in his palms and wiping my tears with his thumbs simultaneously. The action catches me off guard because he's doing it with a straight face, and the softest eyes. "I don't like it when you cry."
"I'm sorry," I keep apologizing and as I do that, more tears flow and as they roll down my cheeks, he's wiping them. "Don't be mad at me, I never did it to hurt you. I was twenty and was in no position to be carrying a baby, I panicked and at the same time didn't want to lose you," All of my words are piling on top of each other, and I desperately just want him to understand.
"I'm not mad at you, I'm just– I'm hurting. Badly," He admits.
"How do I make it right?" I blurt.
He stops his hand movement, doesn't reply, and just walks off to the bathroom, leaving me standing there.
I feel responsible for his hurt. I feel awful. I feel terrible. And it's insane how I thought I was the victim in the whole situation.
I sit on the bed. Shoulders slumped. My head, droops as I try to put myself together: Breathing in and out as I wipe my cheeks with the sleeve of my hoodie, sniffling.
I did not expect this to go as it did and with the way I'm unable to read him, he might come out of the bathroom different... so, I contemplate leaving before he returns.
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Helloooo ✌🏼😙✌🏼 Missed me?
This chapter was a lot, phew! My brain has been working over time, I'm gonna drop chapter 12 tomorrow and hopefully chapter 13 on the weekend💕
I won't be gone for long, love you guys! Byeee ❤️