One night (Shaylor)

Chapter 14

Nash p.o.v.

To say I was furious would have been the understatement of the year. How could he not tell me I had two sons and a daughter? Children I never got to see grow up, kids that I never got to be there on the first day of preschool, kids I had no part of their lives.

Cam and I had a huge screaming match once he got our kids to play soccer in the fields. I don't even know what he is mad about. I'm the one who didn't get to be in the 5 years of my children's lives.

Once Bryant got us to settled down we started the photo shoot which was a total disaster. Cam an I were suppose to play some sports things and look like we were happy and having fun, but the pictures were fill with anger and hatred. The only decent pictures were the ones where we posed with the equipment.

"Hey," Cam screams, when I 'accidentally' push him.

"What? Oh sorry, I forgot that your big head sometimes makes you fall sometimes," I say. Okay that was a low blow. Once somebody said his head was too big and he was secretly self conscious about it and only told me about it. I would normally feel bad for saying that, but I was too mad to care.

I saw pain and sadness cross eyes as he looked at me, but he quickly masked it with anger. "Fuck off Hamilton," he yells glaring at me. He stands up and clenches his fist ready to punch me.

"How about we take a break," Bryant suggest to stop us from fighting. "Cam we're doing the swimsuit part next. How about you go in and go to the makeup room." Cam nods his head looking a bit nervous. If I cared I would have asked, but instead I said, "seems like the hot Cameron Dallas looks are starting to fade." I chuckled little in the end. In truth he was as hot as ever, but I just wanted to make him mad.

Cam just rolls eyes and walks away. Why does he need make up anyway? If he didn't need any before than why now?

"Dude that was so not cool," Bryant says to me. "Whatever," I say pretending not to care. In all truth I was starting to feel like an asshole. Maybe I should lighten up a little on him,

I feel something pulling my pants. I look down and see one of Ca--I mean our sons. That feels weird to say even in your head. He was the one I didn't see at the store yesterday. He puts both his hands up wanting to be picked up. I comply and pick him up. "Papa, are you done wit your wun," the boy asks.

"What run," I ask confused.

"Da wun fwom North Cawolina to home silly."

"Papa has terrible memory. How about you tell me about," I say playing along. I have no idea what Cam has told our children about me or us.

The boy rolls his. "Don't you wemember? Da coach told you to wun a lap from home to North Cawolina. Daddy said it takes along time but one day you will come home. I got yo letters and gifts though." He then went on and on about the stories Cam told them about me and the gifts I bought for them.

Have you ever felt like the biggest douche in the world. Well multiply that by hundred and you would know how I feel. Cam could have made me the bad guy and told them all this shit about me, but instead he made me sound like a hero. I wasn't a hero though. I was the one who left him and our kids--even though I didn't know about them-- and went on to follow my dreams. Cam gave up a lot to be with me and of course I took it for granted. Instead of going to The School of The Art Institute of Chicago he followed me to the North Carolina. Instead of talking to him and maybe seeing if we could come up with a solution I just basically ordered him to come with me.

I sigh and put my son down. "I need to talk to daddy. How about you go play with your brothers," I say. "Okay, papa," the boy says. He gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before running to his siblings.