Page 20 of Trash Talk
“You’re engaged?!” I really am going to vomit everywhere. I’m in an alternate reality— one where everyone acts irrationally. I may join in.
“We’re not engaged, yet. But we are living together. When her parents found out she was pregnant they kicked her out. I bought a loft behind the bar after graduation. I needed my own place, and I just thought it’d be easier that way. If Gramps needs me on short notice, you know. He’s getting older and can’t do as much anymore.”
A: He’s living with her? And B: How in the hell does Knox have money to buy a loft downtown? And C: Brit has a job as a paralegal, (she made a big deal about it on social media. And yes, I stalk her occasionally), she should make enough money to support herself, especially since she was living with her parents until recently. Something’s not adding up. Is it possible that Knox is in love with her? He didn’t confirm or deny my earlier allegation, but he did say it was a mistake, so probably not. Does he even know if it’s his? Maláka.
“Please tell me you asked for a paternity test.”
“I know Brit, I don’t think she’d lie about something like this. I mean, it’s possible, I guess. She could’ve been with someone else. I mean, we did… you know. I think.”
Gamóto, he’s not even sure he slept with her! I can’t even. I wave my hand in his face to get him to stop talking; I can’t listen to him spout off about having potential sex with someone else. We were just having sex a few months ago. I haven’t been with anyone else, and I’ve been wasted at parties too. I don’t care how drunk he was. Or how ‘not-together’ we were. My heart is broken. I turn and throw-up all over the sidewalk. He holds my hair and rubs my back. It feels so good that it shatters my heart even more. This is probably the last time I will feel his hands on me. My entire chest aches. I think I’m dying. I can’t die here. Outside of a bar with vomit and tears on my face. Is the cab here yet?
I stand and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Please find out if it’s yours before you marry her, Knox.” It’s the last thing I say before I step off the curb and into the taxi. I leave the door open for Poppy. She slides in next to me and pulls my head to her shoulder, combs her fingers through my hair and whispers “everything’s gonna be all right.” But it won’t be. Knox, the love of my life, is getting married and having a baby. With someone other than me. Nothing will ever be all right again.
