*Roughly eight months after Shorty*
"Kyle?!" I called his name all throughout the house but I couldn't find him anywhere.
Walking around was hard enough with a stomach the size of planet earth and he knew that. How dare he make me get up looking for him. I woke up from my nap wanting something to eat. Kyle specifically said just shout if I needed him.
I carefully walked down the stairs when I heard talking coming from the living area. I heard a woman's voice and I think that's when I lost all my sanity. I stormed into that room as fast as I could to find Kyle sitting on the couch talking to another woman. He actually had the nerve to smile and look happy as they conversed.
"Kyle?" When he saw me he stood up and grabbed my hand.
"Tamara, this is my wife Imogen."
The bitch stood and offered her hand. I wasn't about to shake it. I stared at it then looked at Kyle hoping he would explain what the hell was going on. She looked to be no older than twenty years old. What was going on?
"Okay, well, she was just on her way out. Right, Tamara?"
Tamara nodded looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess I'll talk to you later. I'll show myself out."
When I heard the door close I walked right out of the living room ignoring Kyle's attempts to talk to me. I didn't want to hear it.
"Imogen, wait a minute."
I turned around abruptly. "Did you hear me calling you?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yes, I heard you calling me but—"
"Who is she?" I folded my arms as best I could with my stomach in the way and glared.
"Tamara?"
"Whatever her name is, Kyle! I don't really care. Why was she here?"
"Don't get upset, baby," he said reaching for me.
I moved away. "Don't baby me. She looked like a damn teenager. Why on earth would you want to sleep with a teenager?"
I could see that he was losing his patience but I didn't care. I wanted him to get angry.
In all honesty, I knew he wasn't sleeping with the girl but man did it really make me insecure to see such a fit women around him.
I felt like an elephant and there she was all curvy and cute making my husband smile. I could just barely make him smile.
"I can not believe you just said that."
Maybe I shouldn't've said that. I went entirely too far. "Kyle, I didn't mean it."
"I'm going to go for a drive."
***
It was nearly midnight when Kyle came back and I heard him come into our room.
"I know you're awake." I sat up, with extreme difficulty, and turned on the lamp.
"Where did you go?"
"I went for a drive then I went to see Aiden."
"That whole time?" I couldn't keep the suspicion out of my voice.
He slammed our bedroom door closed so hard I felt a gust of wind. I knew that he had to do that because if he didn't he probably would've punched a hole in the wall.
"Yes, Imogen, that whole time," he snapped. "I drove around then went to go see my son. I didn't make any other stops."
"Why are you getting so upset?" I asked quietly.
"Because you don't trust me."
I could've died when he said that. Of course, I trusted him. I trusted him with my life. "Now you know that's not true."
"Then why did you suspect that I was sleeping with Tamara?" I threw my hands up.
"I'd just woken up from my nap, I was calling you, and then I find you with another woman in our house."
"Yes, and that's where the trust would've kicked in, Imogen. No, I'm not sleeping with Tamara. She's Aiden's babysitter, for God's sake. She's a child compared to us. Amber just forgot to pay her."
I looked down at my hands. "Oh." I felt really dumb.
"Tell me what this is about."
I looked up. "What?"
"A couple months ago, I probably would've made another stop on my way home but I thought you knew me better than that. I wouldn't do that. Where's the trust?"
He was so right. He didn't give me any reason not to trust him. My distrust stemmed from a deeper issue that I wasn't willing to talk about with him. Now he was hurt and I had no excuse. "I'm sorry, Kyle."
"Sorry isn't going to cut it, Imogen, and neither is crying. We've been fighting like this for months. It's tiring."
I didn't even realize that I was crying until Kyle pointed it out. I wiped my eyes and held back a pathetic sob. "Kyle, I—"
"If you're going to say you're sorry, I already know. I'm sorry too."
***
The next morning when I woke up Kyle wasn't next to me. Whenever I woke up he was always next to me no matter what happened the night before so I knew he was seriously pissed off. It was my own fault though. I should've kept my mouth shut.
I got out of bed and went downstairs. In the kitchen, Kyle was making breakfast which was something he almost never did. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
"Baby," I said.
His back was to me as he faced the stove. He didn't respond so I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. My stomach was pressed up against him and I always felt secure when I did this.
He was angry but he couldn't stay mad forever.
"What do I have to do to make it up to you?"
He stopped fooling around with whatever he was holding and turned around. His hand instantly found my waist and he leaned down to kiss me. Our lips almost touched but he pulled away before we kissed.
"You can't make it up to me, Imogen. You accused me of cheating on you when I didn't. I know how it must've looked but that doesn't excuse what you said."
I hurt him.
My beautiful, understanding husband was hurt because his emotional, pregnant wife ran her mouth with no filter.
"I'm sorry, love."
"Just let me be and I'll get over it."
"No, I can't just let you be while you're hurting. Let me make it better."
He pressed his forehead against mine with a faint smile on his lips.
"So determined," he whispered then pulled away. "Wanna make it up to me?"
I nodded. "Of course."
He turned back to the stove and turned it off. "Let's go upstairs and then I'll decide if I want to forgive you or not."
