Love Delayed (34 page)

I could only imagine what my parents were battling individually. I’d disappointed them. One day their oldest child was enrolled in one of the most competitive and prestigious academic programs in the country and the next, they were sitting in a swanky New York City office with a half a dozen strangers, contemplating signing away their dignity.

“
Zoey, dear, are you okay with all of this?” My dad swung his head towards the mountain of papers on the desk. “Is there anything we should know? Anything that you’re uncomfortable with? Are there any more secrets?”

I swallowed hard. It was time for me to give an answer for my indiscretions.
That was the least I could do. Breaking the news to my sister, Ruth, was difficult—extremely painful. That event was met with an astounding admittance of how much she looked up to me. The memory of her walking away from me with her shoulders slumped toward the ground, weighted with disappoint, will forever be etched in my head.

Now, I had to address it again with my parents.
I sat up in my chair, pulled off the wideband ring I wore almost every day while in public since the Cayman Islands, and bared my tattoo, such a reflection of my soul sketched into my skin. Immediately, my mother grabbed her chest and my father mumbled something expressing pure astonishment.

“The only thing missing from this paperwork is this baby was conceived
in love. It was not as scandalous as it’s becoming or appears. My child was made from love. He loved me. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what went wrong, but I can promise you I’m
not
that type of girl. I’m still the Zoey that you raised. I’m still a young woman of Christ. I still have morals. I still have values.”

I felt the tears building in my throat
. “I would have never
ever
had sex with this man if he did not love me. He. Loved. Me. You
have
to believe me. He loved me. It was not something foolish or haphazard. It was not an infatuation. It was not my imagination. He. Loved. Me!”

That’s when I lost the battle with my tears. I broke down in loud sobs and uncontrollable shakes. Another new low for me.

~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t speak to Stenton as much as we used to
after meeting with his attorney. I didn’t know how to categorize our relationship after that act of betrayal. So, unless he reached out to me, I didn’t contact him.

Stenton arranged
for a practitioner that wasn’t exactly around the corner from me. Apparently, one that had experience handling celebrity pregnancies and understood the need for discretion. Several times he attended doctor’s visits with me. He left with printouts of the ultrasound.

The first time he heard the baby’s heartbeat, he seemed amazed. The first time he saw the baby’s image on the monitor and we learned I was carrying a boy, Stenton’s head collapsed into his open hands as h
is elbows rested on his knees. The doctor offered to give us a minute because of Stenton’s emotional response. I lay on the examine table with my body so tense. It was the first time I saw a smidge of emotion from him since he broke it off with me. I didn’t know how to respond. My eyes would occasionally swing over to him, trying to find my voice and then my heart to speak from. But nothing.

Minutes into his silence, with his head still buried, he freed his right hand to find and clench my left arm and traveled down to clutch my
palm. He held it for a while; still having no appropriate words, I didn’t utter any. I couldn’t.

Stenton raised his head and I immediately saw that his
marbled orbs were glazed. The rims of his heavy eyes were red and moist. I felt my bottom lip drop.

“I don’t deserve this opportunity,” he croaked out. “I don’t deserve this gift from you.”

I bit my quivering lips to keep my tears at bay. Elated that he viewed this thing with me as a gift, my chest lightened for the first time in months. The earnest beam in his eyes was sketched in my brain and heart. In that moment, I could see the loneliness in Stenton. I could feel the concept of this baby being an opportunity for him to extend his almost nonexistent family. I felt like a creditor, granting him a favor so rare. This I didn’t quite understand because I knew there were droves of women who’d donate their limbs just to have a piece of his essence growing inside of them. Why did I feel so revered for doing something as unwise as getting pregnant by him so prematurely?

T
he look in his solemn eyes told me what I was doing was something good for him. Something that he’d coveted. From that moment on, all condemnation of my careless actions vaporized. The guilt was mitigated. If I could turn back the hands of time, I would’ve avoided this pregnancy, but I could no longer carry the weight of the onus that consumed me because of it. Stenton had just extinguished that.

After that day, our frequency of communication didn’t improve, but Stenton did attend several appointments with me. I had to adjust to life in this new place. I was able to finish out the semester
, but it was no small feat. I sobbed like a baby the day I filled out my leave papers. Although I knew there were provisions for me to return, I couldn’t shake the mentality of failing my family, my parents. Myself. It was a depressing ride home that day.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You sneaky bitch!”

I leaped from my bed and twisted my torso too fast, causing a shooting pain from my groin to my abdomen. I grabbed my stomach, tensing from the ache. Panting out of control, I finally looked up to find a shaking Angela, seething like an inferno. I was surprised to see her. Last I
’d heard from Karen, Angela had agreed to marry Timmy and was planning their wedding. It disappointed me, but who was I to have an opinion considering my recent quagmire.

She was now here, in my bedroom with guns ablaze. My breathing was out of control and my heart was beating wildly. I knew this day would come, just not when I’d finally been able to get sleep in short increments.

“Don’t sit there looking dumb and innocent. You are the biggest fraud there is! Now I see what that lecture about forgiveness was about. You only wanted to get Alton Alston off the hook to make yourself look good to Stenton Rogers. You’re a manipulative little whore!”

Ruth jumped into my doorway with eyes as big as saucers.
Not now Ruthie!
She stood there frozen.

My weary eyes trailed back to Angela.

“Oh, and all you have is a fucking rolling of the eyes?” Angela inched toward me.

I was able to find my bearings. “Angela, I know I should have told you…and before now. It’s just that things have been crazy—”

“Crazy? Yeah, I bet! You fucking ballers who wouldn’t normally look twice at your dry ass if it wasn’t for me laying the foundation by acting like the thirsty groupie! Did you fuck Alton Alston, too?”

Is she crazy?

One thing that did strike me along with her asinine accusation
was how she referred to them by their first and last names, making it clear she really didn’t know either one of them.

I didn’t realize I was still rubbing my belly until I heard Ruth diffidently ask, “
Zo, you okay? You don’t look good.”

Without looking at her, I raised my hand, needing her quiet and not getting my parents involved. Angela was sharp with the tongue, but she’d never fight me. That thought was just ridiculous.

“I swear to god, Zo, I feel like beating the living shit out of your sneaky ass!” She drew a fist at me.

“Uh-oh!” I heard Ruth shrill before taking off.

“Ang, don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t have sex with Alton. This thing with Stenton wasn’t planned and I didn’t manipulate any—”

“Yes the hell you did! And you betrayed me
by going after someone you knew I wanted. I know you go all “good girl”, but Zo, in the streets you’d get your ass kicked for touching a guy your girl was after.”

If her street code
jargon didn’t give away Angela was beyond pissed, the vein pulsing just underneath her left eye did. This wasn’t going to be easy and the pain was still smarting too much for me to defend myself if she called herself hitting me. Angela was no more a fighter than me, but she did crazy things in the name of Stenton Rogers…or anything she was passionate about.

Steady rubbing the pain away, I tried to
calm my breathing enough to speak clearly. “Ang, I’m sorry about all of this, but I think you’re laying claims to a man you don’t know—”

“
I
don’t know Stenton Rogers? Bitch,
you
don’t know Stent—”

“What is going on up here?” My mother managed before she even entered my room. “Angela, get your finger out of her face! What is your problem?”

“She is, Aunt Sar! She betrayed me. She’s sneaky and grimy!” Angela spewed as my mother shuffled her out of my personal space and made herself a wedge between the two of us. When her eyes landed on my grasped belly she jumped into action.

“Angela, go home and take care of Brooklyn. I understand you and
Zoey need to talk, but not like this and not now.” My mother took her by the shoulders and urged her to the door.

“I hate you,
Zo! Don’t you ever call me, speak to me or look my way! I hate you!” Angela screamed all the way out of my small bedroom.

“Go, now!” My mother yelled, something she isn’t known to do.

I heard Ang’s threats and rant until she pulled out of the driveway.

Still stunned by the little melee in her home, my mother finally spoke.

“You okay?”

I shook my head. “I was until this,” I murmured, as my eyes were trained to the floor.

“Should I take you to the E.R.?”

“No, Momma.”

“Zo,” she sighed. “You’ve been doing so much better with your disposition these past few days. I don’t want you back in that slump. You have everything to look forward to, only now you have a bit more.”

As much as I wanted to take to her every word, I couldn’t. I was still blue. I knew I had to face Angela, but I’d been taking the cowardly route by putting it off. I only needed to get out of the black hole to do it. My mom was right: I had been improving. The nap Angela just awakened me from was evidence of that. I’d been restive for weeks now.  

“Is there anything I can do to make it better? Can I rub your belly? You want me to pray for you? I can go get my oil.”

“No thanks, Momma.
I should be fine. I’m just going to lay down and ride out the pain.” That didn’t apply to that pain in my heart.

She came over to my bed and kissed me. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be back to check in on you. I’ll call your dad and have him pick up your favorite seafood bisque.” I watched her walk out and close the door behind her.

That made me smile…somewhere within. I’d developed a better appreciation for food being pregnant. Eating was something that brought me happiness—temporary bliss, but bliss nonetheless. I’d gained a few pounds and welcomed that, too.

I spent most of my days on my parents
’ couch or in my bedroom, painting my numbness away. It was either that or church. I felt lonely even there. Being there was especially hard, considering Angela wasn’t speaking to me. And eventually the whispers subsided, but the judgment didn’t. Our pastor even noted one Sunday morning how attendance had increased in the past few months. I knew it was due to spectators, curious about the rumors of who my “alleged” baby’s father was. Although our church was modest in size, it wasn’t like I or my parents made a public announcement that not only was I pregnant outside of being wed, but the father so happened to be
three-time MVP
, Stenton Rogers. I didn’t know how long we’d be able to keep it concealed, but we agreed that we would.

Nonetheless, after that experience with Stenton when we learned we were having a boy, I didn’t hide my face or my growing belly anymore. I was reassured that this child was conceived out of love. It didn’t matter that his father’s love didn’t last as long as his mother’s. My child was and would be loved.

~~~~~~~~~~

February 2008

Time
passed and when my birthday arrived, my parents forced me out to dinner. It actually turned out to be a surprise birthday dinner at a buffet restaurant out in Somerset. I nearly cried when the girls awaiting my arrival screamed “surprise” as I approached the rear dining area. There were six jumping girls in total. These were my friends from high school and some from church, including Karen. It was great being reminded that I had friends. It brought a smokescreen of normal. Stenton, my best friend, and Angela may never return, but at least some sense of normalcy had, in terms of my friends.

We talked, joked and laughed at the table. My parents sat with us throughout the meal, smiling and participating whenever necessary. I noticed no one brought up Stenton. I didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand, I didn’t want the mention of wh
at was painful in my life, but on the other, I didn’t want to erase the memory of the love of my life. I was still dealing with a broken heart. Midway through laughing at one of Karen’s new-mommy jokes, I decided to bury any thoughts of Stenton for the rest of the night. I needed the break in the agony I felt from my failure.