“I’m a hypocrite?” I let out a groan. “At least I can still tend to our daughter when I’m hungover.”
Silence passes through both of us. A sting lingers in my chest being called a hypocrite.
“You’re such an asshole, Kai,” I whisper.
“You’re going to call me an asshole? I watched our daughter all night while you went out and partied.”
“And I did it a thousand times for you. I was forced to do it because I had no say in the matter.” He stands there, staring at me. “Whatever, Kai, just leave. We don’t need you, anyway.”
“You don’t need me?” he says and points to his chest. “Who needed who last night?”
“Can you leave, please?” My tears stream down the sides of my face, soaking the edge of my hair. I wipe my tears and look over at Kai, whose face has dropped at the sight of my tears.
He leans in and kisses Amari. “I’ll be back later,” he says to her. She wiggles her arms with the touch of his kiss.
After I hear the front door shut, I drag myself out of bed with a loud groan. The more I move, the harder the throbbing hits against my skull. I sit on the edge of the bed and grab Amari’s hand. “Hi, baby. I missed you.” Her bright eyes raise at the sound of my voice.
Memories of last night linger in my memory. Some of it ishazy. I remember the guy I was dancing with, and I think we talked, but I remember little of our conversation. I drag myself off the bed and into the bathroom. My limbs are heavier than before. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles surround my eyes. I can’t help but feel sick again. I lean over the toilet and throw up more of last night’s alcohol.
It’s Monday morning, another week has gone by, and we’re back in the same routine as we were at the beginning of January. Kai comes over after work, puts Amari to bed, and then leaves. There is so much tension that we barely say a full sentence to each other. All I do is lock myself in my room. When Friday rolled around, Kai never came after work or Saturday morning. Only telling me he went out and partied. Probably to get back at me. I didn’t even question him about it. I’m so tired of fighting. It’s not fair how he’s reacting to this. It was one time I went out compared to the thousand times he’s gone out.
These past seven months have been the hardest months of my life. I understand what my mom was trying to tell me when I found out I was pregnant.
You two thinkyou’re so grown. You’re still in high school.
Do you realize how much goes into raising a family?
You’reboth so young. You don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into. I made it clear that I won’t be raising another kid. I struggled so hard with the two of you. I can’t do it again. And I won’t. I love you Blakely, but I just can’t.”
I missthe relationship Kai and I had before all this. The relationship was so warm and comforting. I miss the things Kai that would say.
Everything will work out just fine. I promise.
The Kai that always reassured me that everything would work out.
The one who cared about my feelings.
The one who would always wanted to talk about my feelings.
The one that made me feel better when I was down.
I understand that he’s hurting too, but I can’t let myself be trapped in his turmoil when he shows no effort to work on his emotions from his father’s death.
The front door lock clicks and Kai walks in, fully showered. The smell of his Axe shower gel lingers in the room as he walks in. He grabs Amari out of my hands and walks to the kitchen.
No hi.
No nothing.
Tears fall from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks and to my chest. Every time we’re not doing good, I have so much trouble controlling my tears. Controlling my sadness. And yet, all I want for us is to be good. To work out. To be a family. I can’t be the only one who forgives.
I walk to the room and shut the door quietly. I pull out my phone and look back at all the photos we have together from when we first started dating. I think about the butterflies that used to accompany his presence.
Now the butterflies I get come from the nervousness this relationship has turned into. It hasn’t all been bad. Having Amari helped develop a different relationship. One that has to be worked harder on. One that takes two to make it work. As of right now, I don’t know where we stand. I don’t know what he’s thinking or what he wants to do. I don’t dare ask. The waythings are going, I don’t think he wants anything to do with me, or us.
I’m thankful he sticks around for Amari. Some relationships don’t even get that much.
“16 and pregnant. What was I thinking?”I say to myself. I wouldn’t change it for the world because I love Amari so much. She’s been my little best friend through it all. The comfort I never knew I needed. It’s been so hard. Harder than I ever could have imagined. But it’s so worth it.
