Peeling Back the Top Layer 🇯🇲

49| Turbulence

Thunder rumbles loudly above head and a bolt of lightning rips across the darkened sky, heralding the first gigantic raindrop, which splatters on the windscreen just as I pull up to Chaunard's gate. It seems the weather is on my side, holding up until I get here.

Not only that, it encapsulates my entire mood — the lighting and thunder articulates the anger bubbling inside me, yearning to spill out. It's all doom and gloom. Like the swollen grey clouds that are bursting at the seams, my chest burns, filled with so much hurt that tears are on the verge of flowing over.

I haven't even heard his version of events yet but what that pregnant woman had to say was more than an earful. She even brought the receipts to support her story.

The downpour gets heavier when I enter the front yard, impeding my vision which is already blurred by the looming tears. I relax in the car seat and allow my mind to replay the conversation with the woman.

Her name is Tracey. That same name Marco used that time at the airport when they went to pick up Toni-Ann. She claims that Chad impregnated her and was quite supportive until two weeks ago when he ceased all contact.

She produced a photo of the two together the very night Marsha celebrated her birthday, the night he first took me to his home and fucked me senseless, the same night I realized that he had me hook, line and sinker. That photo along with a few text messages is all she presented as evidence of their recent time together.

But her account of events aligns with the night I caught Steven cheating. Apparently, she's the reason he was in my community that night. He had been visiting her. Was probably just done fucking her too.

Even the pregnancy makes sense. Five months she said. Which means that she conceived just before he left the island for his work trip. It's a small window but plausible. Could she really be lying?

Her tear-stained face has been etched in my mind. The melancholy with which she shared her plight still tugs at my heart. My mind is stuck on replay with the way she cried and said, "Mi nuh know what else to do because I cannot do this alone. It nuh fair to mi."

The more I wrack my brain for clues to the truth the more my temper boils. Here I am considering... no, getting ready to move in with this man and a woman who lives on the street adjacent to mine claims to be pregnant with his child.

Then I remember his father. He had a whole other family mere meters away from Miss Jay in the same neighborhood.

This day could have gone a million different ways but I could not have pictured this turn of events.

Blinded by rage, I get out of the car and rush into the house, seeking answers only he can provide.

"Chaunard!" I call out.

No response.

I go from room to room until I find him slouched behind his computer in the office fast asleep. He looks so peaceful and handsome. Under normal circumstances I would let him rest but I'm seething.

"Wake up!" I yell, startling him awake. "We need fi talk."

"Hey babe. Weh yaw frighten mi suh fa? Wah happen?!"

I glare at him for a while, giving him a few seconds to let his mind become sober and register the emotions on my face. The disappointment, hurt and wrath should be very evident in my features right now.

"Why the fuck did Tracey come to mi yard wid har big belly dis mawning fi tell mi seh my man breed har and then ditch har?"

His eyes widen in shock and his mouth drops open. I watch him push his chair back and make his way toward me.

"Don't come near mi enuh," I warn him. "Yuh really have another woman, Chaunard? Wid a five-month belly at that?"

"Tracey is my ex from a very long time back and mi nuh know why she a tell yuh fuckery. She is nearly seven months pregnant— "

"So yuh know bout di pregnancy?!"

He simply nods his head and sighs.

"A really your pickney?! Yuh a follow yuh father footsteps nicely," my voice is low but still riddled with anger.

"Weh yuh jus seh?" He has the temerity to be offended by the comparison.

"You are just like your father. It's the same thing him do to yuh mother. Is Tracey di real reason why yuh want mi fi move in? Fi get mi out of har reach? Because she live right round di road," I yell.

The calmness he exuded when he approached me disappears in seconds and fury takes over. His eyes narrow, his jaw twitches madly and he clenches his fists tightly. "Yuh really jus compare mi to dah piece a shit deh?"

"Mi a talk how mi see it," I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yuh a chat fuckery. Tracey need fi go find di man wah breed har. And you need fi calm di fuck down," he seethes.

"So yuh a seh yuh never fuck har then? The baby can't be yours?" I'm seeing red. If he didn't have sex with her she wouldn't... couldn't be saying he's the father of her child.

He glares at me angrily before pushing past me, storming out of the room and picking up the keys I just dropped on the table in the entryway. I'm not sure which bothers me more — him walking away from me or him not denying the possibility of the child being his.

"So weh di fuck yuh a go?... Chaunard! Answer me," I demand.

"Mi naw go do dis wid yuh," he faces me and says before leaving the house. His voice is deadly calm when he speaks.

The dam bursts when the front door slams, all the hurt spewing freely from my eyes.

It's only 2:00 pm but with the turbulent weather, outside looks like 6:00 pm. My body shudders involuntarily, forcing me to wrap my arms over my chest, hugging myself tightly.

I usually enjoy the rain. Whenever there's a heavy downpour, I automatically slow down, even feel tranquil with the fresh moisture in the air.

For me it's cuddle time, perfect for bonding and snuggling together to escape the cold. But right now I'm at odds with him. The new chapter I thought would be laden with happiness is already off to a rocky start. Or is this the closing line to the final chapter?

With my thoughts spiraling out of control, I climb the stairs, making my way to the bedroom where I go straight to bed, balling my body into the fetal position. And I weep.

I cry thinking about how it would feel to be sexually involved with a man, who denies your child when you become pregnant. My father did the same thing to my mother and refused to sign my birth certificate until she did a paternity test. Even after that, she had to take the sorry excuse for a man to court for child support.

But I also hurt for Chaunard who, if truly innocent, must surely be livid by the accusation. The man I have come to know and love doesn't seem capable of such evil. He's mature and responsible.

I want to believe that he isn't the father of that woman's unborn child but still, an inkling of doubt lingers in my mind. I chalk up this uncertainty to the experience of so many women I know of who have been in similar situations.

And, will a woman truly ever know a man?

Accepting that I didn't give him a fair enough chance to explain, I call but it rings until it goes to voicemail. Several other attempts during the course of an hour go unanswered and my messages are delivered but unread.

"Why is this happening?" I cry into the pillow, tucking my arms beneath it. The situation swamps my thoughts until sleep creeps in and takes over. My phone ringing is what wakes me up and I quickly answer hoping it's Chaunard.

"Kelsie?" a woman sniffles from the other end.

"Yes."

"Him dead Kelsie," she sobs. "Him kill off himself. Him dead," she wails.