Throuple In Paradise - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,50
wants to think about leaving?
He wants to think about change?
He wants to think about paternity tests?
Come on Troy.
Chase me.
I sprint through the winding layout of the fantasy-based hotel, salty air filling my lungs. Heads swivel as two blurs fly past them. If this were a cartoon, papers would be flying. But since it’s just real life, my chest starts to burn and I realize emotions are making me slower. My cheeks are wet. Am I crying?
I surprise Troy by stopping abruptly, panting. He passes me, his sneakers thumping to change course. He pants as he flips around and yanks his long hair up, spinning it quickly into a bun so the sweat on the back of his neck has somewhere else to go. “You’re oversimplifying. There are so many levels to this!”
He has no reaction to my tears, no softness in his face. He still looks pissed as fuck. So I point to my cheeks. “I’m crying!”
He throws up one arm. “You desensitized me to it, remember? You gave me this big speech about how it’s just you letting go of your emotions and not to baby you.” He rubs his face, the word hitting him as he mutters, “A baby…there’s going to be a baby.”
A passing couple glances over.
I don’t keep my volume down because it’s not in my character to do so. “Yes, this isn’t what I expected either. Didn’t plan to get pregnant! Definitely should’ve thought ahead. I was having too much fun and completely forgot to renew my birth control. Lucky me. But back there you said you wanted to keep this baby.”
More heads are turning and Troy looks around because he’s on the spot. “Did I? Because you never asked me.”
“Your face said it. I came out of the bathroom with that pregnancy test positive and you were all about it.”
He runs his hands down my arms, lowering his volume in hopes that I will, too. “I’m just telling you what I need.”
“Why do you need it? What happens if it’s Jack’s?” A woman audibly gasps from a pretty good distance behind me. I shoot her a look and demand, “What do you know about my situation?!! Keep your judgey gasp to yourself!” Turning back to my man I grumble, “Fucking strangers!” and discover he’s smiling at me. Not a big smile. The circumstances wouldn’t allow it. But the light in his eyes is back, the Troy I know and love gazing at me.
Relaxing, too, I touch his face, stroke his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb and whisper, “Nothing has to change.”
His smile vanishes. “It’s the exact opposite.”
He walks away with me staring after him, helpless and hurt and angry and defiant.
I don’t want him to go.
At the same time, I do.
I’m from the South.
We do not chase our men.
They chase us.
Chapter Thirty-One
MARION
This hotel is designed for relaxation, making love, swimming, eating delicious food and getting not so drunk that you can’t do daytime water activities. It certainly isn’t made for drama.
I’m walking alone through weaving architecture under a blue sky so clear clouds wouldn’t dare insult it by intruding. I thought I’d never get over the view, but it looks different to me today, the sea vast and never-ending.
I’m trapped.
Island fever, finding yourself on a small body of land that doesn’t touch any others and realizing this is it, has set in.
I want home.
I want Atlanta.
I miss it.
Which is weird.
And even weirder, I want to talk to my mom.
We’ve barely spoken since she ran off with her secret lover, Kyle, but that doesn’t stop the twinge of longing in my chest for her today. Mom, I’m pregnant. And I’m scared.
A phone call won’t cut it.
I need to find Jack.
He’ll help me get home.
Where did he go?
Jack…
My Jack.
The one she made flirtatious comments to — or about whenever she knew damn well he was within earshot — is my man now. I’ve avoided telling her about my unusual relationship. Not because I’m acting out a vengeance to get back at her for breaking up our home. If I wanted to do that I would’ve rubbed this in her face as soon as it happened.
The truth is, I never wanted her opinion on it. I couldn’t care less what she thought about who I chose to love. This is my life and I respect myself even if some people don’t.
Now I’ll have to tell her.
That’s the price I’ll pay.
Groaning, I close my eyes as I grip the railing overlooking the sea. A breeze