I didn’t go home after my prenatal checkup.
I got in a cab and went straight to my parents‘ place.
Mom opened the door, took one look at me, and her face tightened.
“Where’s Daxon? He didn’t go with you to the check–up?”
I shook my head. “Mom… I don’t want to keep the baby.”
She grabbed my hand, pulled me to the couch, and immediately reached for her phone.
“Is this because of that trending post?”
[#TheGridirongodWife]
[#FootballPlayerLangfordRomanticFireworksLoveStory]
The whole feed was plastered with photos of Daxon and Cleo, wrapped up in each other under a sky full of fireworks. He looked like some kind of living sculpture–beefy bodybuilt, national treasure. And she? Petite, sweet, movie–poster pretty. Together, they looked disgustingly perfect.
I didn’t respond. Just stared at the floor.
Mom scoffed. “This boy… He’s really something. He hasn’t even publicly acknowledged you and you’re about to marry him! Goodness, I’m calling him right now!”
I reached over and stopped her hand before she could hit the dial.
“Mom,” I said, looking her in the eyes, “I’m not marrying Daxon.”
She shot up like I’d slapped her.
“Are you out of your mind? You’re carrying his child and now you’re saying you don’t want to marry him? If word gets out, our whole family would be humiliated!”
She pointed to my belly, her voice rising.
“And don’t forget–he agreed to endorse our products for free. If you back out now, are you -going to pay for a national–level endorsement?”
I gave a bitter laugh as I looked at the woman in front of me. Honestly, her nagging me was just as exhausting as Daxon’s broken promises.
‘Wow. This is my family.”
They only said yes to the engagement because Daxon got famous. Back when he was just a nobody on the football field, they never even bothered to remember his name.
I used to think parents were supposed to love you. Protect you.
‘But to them, I’m just… a bargaining chip for profit.’
Mom suddenly stepped aside and made the call anyway.
“Daxon? Hi, sweetie–yes, Davina’s here. You should come pick her up. She’s pregnant, your know how sensitive and moody women like her get. Just bear with her, alright? I gave her a
11:09 Tue, 20 May G
good talking–to. She won’t give you any more trouble.”
99%1
As soon as she hung up, she dragged me back onto the couch like I was some runaway dog.
“Sit. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
And just like that, her hands locked around my arms like shackles.
Fifteen minutes later, Daxon showed up with a big bouquet.
But it wasn’t big enough to hide the very faint red marks on his neck.
“Babe, I’m sorry. I was supposed to go with you to the hospital, I know. But Coach called last minute–we’ve got a major match coming. I couldn’t skip training. Please don’t be mad, I swear I’ll be there for every check–up after this.”
He smelled like vanilla. Like Cloe.
‘There is no ‘after this,‘ Daxon,‘ I mentally corrected.
“I got you the newest Chanel bag,” he added, proudly holding out a pastel pink purse like it was supposed to fix everything.
I didn’t even reach for it. I’ve never liked pink. I only wear black.
But Cleo? Yeah. This was exactly her style.
Mom snatched the bag before I could say anything and practically threw me into his arms.
“Go on, go with Daxon. Oh, and don’t forget–Daxon, you’ve got that ad shoot tomorrow!”
We barely stepped inside the apartment before his phone rang.
Cleo. Of course.
“Daxon, see? I told you! She’s not mad anymore, right? Told you the bag would work. You owe me–it was my pick, after all! I’ve got good taste, that’s why she forgave you!”
The second he hung up, my own phone buzzed.
I opened it.
Same exact bag.
Same color, same model.
And then another photo–two hands laced together.
Hers wearing a diamond so big it could blind someone.
My eyes then looked at my own bare ring finger.
I took a deep breath.
‘Just one last time,‘ I promised myself inwardly.
Chapter 2
