Paris sat enveloped in darkness, seated snugly in the corner of her plush sectional, her gaze fixed on the vibrant pulse of NYC. The city lights cast a shimmering reflection onto the penthouse's marble floors. She had put the kids to bed early and showered. All she was waiting for now was the moment Shane walked through the door.
The truth is, she hesitated to tell Shane about the baby because she wasn't prepared for the inevitable conversation that would follow. She had no interest in attempting another pregnancy. In her mind, this was her final pregnancy, regardless of whether it went to term.
A wave of nausea came over her the moment she heard the sound of the elevator arriving on their floor. Taking a deep breath, she thought, ' Here we go' as she glanced at the clock. It was going on 4 am and Paris had sat there for the past 3 hours going over everything she would say to him once he made it home. But the moment the elevator doors opened all of that went out the window.
Paris lounged on the couch, wearing only one of Shane's t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. A glass of wine rested on the table before her, alongside the almost empty bottle of Chateau D'yquem, valued at thousands. Hiding her drinking was no longer a concern. She could hear him coming up behind her. Keeping her eyes on the view ahead, she lifted the glass, drained it in a single swallow, and then refilled it.
But instead of saying anything to her, Shane made his way upstairs. Getting up she followed him up the stairs and into their bedroom. He started taking off his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom.
"Can we talk now?" she asked, following him.
"Now you want to talk?" he replied nonchalantly.
"Wasn't that the plan? To talk when you got home?" Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, Paris folded her arms across her chest, watching her husband turn on the shower.
"Dr. Avery called me tonight," he said, turning to face his wife. He looked into her eyes and watched as they dropped to the floor.
Paris shifted on her feet as her husband approached her. "She called to discuss a procedure I approved that you wanted, some kind of permanent birth control?" he inquired.
Paris remained silent.
"First, you arrangin hits behind my back. Then, you start keeping secrets, for Cameron, of all people," he said, his voice rising steadily as he neared her.
"Don't wake my kids up, Shane!" she warned, placing her hands against his chest in an attempt to calm him down.
"Naw, fuck that!" Pushing her hands away, he continued his rant "You don't keep nothin from me, do you fuckin understand me?!" He questioned
"I handled it.." She replied
"You didn't handle shit, I handled it!" He replied as he began to unbuckle his belt.
"I was trying to help, you have enough on your plate! I can handle myself, especially when it comes to Cameron and his lame-ass homeboys!" Paris replied
"I said what I said, Paris." He said lowering his voice
"And from the conversation I had with Dr. Avery it's somethin else you not tellin me. And you know I've been tryin to figure it out all night. You asking for birth control, you keepin secrets, then I come home and you drinkin. We both know you not bold enough to do no shit like that in my presence. So the only explanation is you not pregnant. "That's what we needed to talk about, right? That's what your doctor wanted me to talk to you about," he said, not waiting for her response as he pieced everything together. "I know damn well you didn't have an abortion, so the only other explanation is a miscarriage. But why keep that a secret? What am I missing?" he inquired.
