~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry for the long wait but I've tried really hard to squeeze you guys in an upload since you've been waiting for so long. It's not one of my best chapters, well in my opinion, but I hope you like it nonetheless. As usual, please comment and vote but I don't even need to ask since you guys are amazing at that. One more thing, thank you so much for reading and getting this story to over 250,000 reads. I didn't even have hope in it passing 100 so thank you!
I hope you enjoy and please comment what you think!
Chelcia xx
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kayla: 24 weeks pregnant
The next morning, we emerge into the LAX arrivals terminal, greeted by a swarm of anonymous figures. It’s really busy, somewhat claustrophobic, the sound of loud voices bellowing over one another and airport announcements firing through my ears from all different directions. Heads rise above the heads in front them, trying to catch hold of their long missed family members who have departed from the recently landed plane. Men stand with an impassive expression planted on their faces, looking mildly interested as they hold up cards with various names reading ‘Mrs Smith’ or ‘Mr Taylor’ as they wait for the required visitor to greet them. Damion grabs hold of my hand, taking full control as he leads me through the crowd, brushing past people without apology as they stand in the way.
Leaving the cool air-conditioned airport, we finally step outside, the late morning June heat welcoming us back home to California as it clings to our skins like a skin tight dress, automatically forming lines of sweat on our foreheads. Whoa! This heat is crazy and it’s only just the beginning of summer.
Outside the airport is identical to inside, if not worse. Awaiting taxi drivers honk their horns in annoyance, shooting their heads from out of their car windows and grunting as they see the still river of traffic in front of them. Returning business men stand at the sidewalk, clutching hold of their small briefcases as they converse on their smart phones, oblivious to the chaos around them whilst they discuss company matters.
Returning sun kissed vacationers exit from the airport, pushing their luggage carts through the automatic doors as their children lumber behind. Family members hug their long missed loved ones before ushering them to their parked cars as the remaining mass of people extend their arms, trying to grab hold of a taxi.
A taxi finally drives up to our feet, the tanned driver quickly stepping outside and taking our light luggage and placing it inside of the trunk. Damion opens the car door and in I climb as he follows me inside. We both let out a relieved sigh at the silence of the car in contrast to the hysteria outside. The taxi driver then enters the car, turning on the engine as he asks for our address. He types it in as Damion explains it before joining the traffic filled line of cars waiting to exit the airports region.
Damion then fixes his gaze outside of the window, his brows clenched as he returns in to his deep thought. A troubled expression has been looming on his face ever since that phone call with Rosie yesterday morning, and he hasn’t mentioned a word about it throughout the five hour flight and neither have I. I frown at him. What did she say to him? I mean, it’s obviously got him thinking. I then roll my eyes, taking the full advantage that he’s not looking at me, why did he even have to answer when he could have simply ignored the call? Even when they’re over two thousand miles away, it’s like she’s still got control over him, as if she has him wrapped beneath a spell.
He catches me staring at him and raises his eyebrows. Revealing his uncombed, blonde waves of hair, he withdraws the blue beanie that matches the colour of his eyes from his head. He cocks his head to one side, studying me, and looks somewhat amused, but it’s hard to tell. “What are you thinking about?” he questions, turning to face me in the confined car, “You like you want to rip someone’s head off,” he smirks. Oh, if only you knew.
I flush and glance down, “Nothing,” I lie, breaking our gaze as I turn away and look outside of the window.
He draws closer to me and he nuzzles his nose into my neck; brushing his soft, unruly hair against my jaw line, leading the ghost of a smile to linger onto my lips. “Please, don’t over think things,” he murmurs into my neck, the warmth of his breath tingling against my skin and leading a shiver to run through my spine, “She means nothing to me,” he then adds before pressing a gentle kiss against it and returning to his upright position.
Maybe he’s right, maybe I do need to stop other thinking everything. I’ve always had a bad habit of making out that situations are worse than they are in my head. I guess sometimes you can’t help but feel insecure. You can’t help but fear that he’ll leave you for someone else or someone better, or in my eyes, Rosie. I stare down at my knotted fingers, trying to remove the doubtful thoughts that are spiralling throughout my head as I lean my head against the window.
My thoughts are disrupted by the violent vibration of my cell phone in my purse. The taxi driver glances at me through his rear view mirror as I rummage through my oversized bag that contains everything from my Victoria Secret lip balm to a three hundred paged book for first time moms. Damion lets out a laugh as I remove the contents from within my bag, shaking his head as he smiles at me.
“Hello?” I answer after the fifth ring, sounding rather breathless from the treasure hunt within my bag.
“Kayla,” my mother’s sounds, her voice soft and comforting.
My muscles relax as I lean back into the chair, the sound of her voice leading unexpected tears to form in my eyes. “I’ve missed you,” I whisper.
She pauses, “Kayla, is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I smile, a lump forming in the back of my throat as I speak softly, “It’s just good to hear your voice.”
“Well, I’ve missed you too,” she says. After a brief silence, she asks, “So how are you?”
“Well, apart from this aching backache that I’ve been feeling for the past few days,” I explain, massaging the side of my lower back, “I’m great.”
“Well, you’re six months pregnant, he’s getting much heavier now,” she explains, “Maybe you should go to a spa and get a massage,” she suggests, “There’s the cutest little spa not a long distance away that I could book you in for, or you could always get Damion to give you a rub.”
My cheeks flush red at the suggestion. I imagine Damion rubbing me in more ways than one, and I quickly vanish the sexual thought from out of my head as if my mother can read my mind. “I’ve actually just got back from Ohio,” I say, changing the topic of conversation.
“Ohio?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah,” I smile, “We went to visit Damion’s family, and they’re wonderful.”
She’s silent for a moment, “And how are things with Damion.”
Remembering the phone call with Rosie, my face falls, “They’re okay,” I whisper.
“Are you sure,” her seriousness is palpable, “You can tell me if you don't feel safe, happy or comfortable, you name it."
I roll my eyes, “Oh mom, it’s really nothing.”
“Honey, you seem,” she pauses, trying to find the right word, “Different, as if something’s upset you.” I shrug, forgetting that she can’t see me. “Why don’t you come home, come and visit us. Sometimes a little family time is good, you may be having your own baby, but you’re still mine. I miss you and your father and sister would love to see you, too. You need a break. You can come and get some distance and maybe some perspective.”
I smile at the soft tone of her voice and I know that she cares. Maybe she’s right, maybe I should get away for a couple of days. We’ve been together every single day for the last several months and although we’ve grown so close together, and yes, I’ve fallen in love with him in that short space of time, we both need space to breathe. Besides, my mom always knows best, no matter how much I’d like to deny it.
“Okay,” I say after a long pause, “I’ll come and see you.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” I repeat, my voice rising, slightly surprised, “I’ve pretty much just landed.”
“Well you can come whenever you’re ready, just let me know when.”
“Okay. Well mom, I’ve got to go, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The next ten minutes pass in silence, only the murmuring noise of the radio sounding in the car. Damion has grasped hold of my hand in the time, gently massaging his thumb into the palm of my hand as if he’s heard my mother’s suggestions.
“I’m going to stay at my parent’s for a couple of days,” I say, breaking the warm, yet uncomfortable silence.
He looks up at me like a child who’s parent has told them that it’s time to leave the fair and go home, “Why?” he questions, his eyes deepening.
“We both need time to think,” I explain, nervously gulping.
The car falls to a silence as we both look outside of the opposite windows. He then leans his head back against the head rest and lets out a sigh, “Okay,” he says. “So, when are you going?”
I pause, thinking, “Tomorrow,” I then explain.
“Would you like me to drive you there?”
“If you don't mind” I softly smile, raising my eyebrows as I glance down at my sore, swollen feet that look like they’re about to burst out of my silver sandals. He then takes hold of my hand and tightly squeezes it. He then lets go of the tight squeeze, but his hand still locked tightly within mine.