Chapter 36
Kensie
The doorbell rang, waking me up from a deep sleep. Disoriented, I hit Canaan’s shoulder. He fell asleep on his stomach, his left arm slung across my breasts. I struggled to open my eyes, and my doorbell sounded again.
“That better not be another man, Kens,” he warned. His Caribbean and southern twang were more pronounced in his sleep.
“I don’t know who it is. I left my cell in the other room. I don’t even know what time it is.”
“Late enough for a man to drop by.” He opened his eyes. “Tell me now. Do I need to be pissed?”
“Are you seeing someone else?” I scanned the bed for my tank that he’d tossed when we fell into bed.
“Does my answer change yours?” he asked.
The doorbell rang again.
“A question with a question.” I huffed, brushed his arm off my body, and snatched the comforter around my nakedness, leaving him uncovered.
I threw on my robe hanging on the back of the door, hurried down the stairs, and peeked through my peephole.
Shit. Shit. Saraj stood on the other side. “Not a good time.”
“It’s never a good time. I’m not leaving until you let me speak,” he yelled through the door.
“Who the fuck is at your door?” Canaan roared from behind me, wearing only his pants.
I swung around, ready to tell him to chill, but the murderous rage in his eyes humbled me.
I’d never seen this side of him. His eyes glowed with fire, and I instinctively knew he would hurt Saraj if I didn’t soothe him.
I placed my hands on his bare chest, and his ring sparkled, reminding me that I still claimed him in my heart and soul. “Baby, there’s no other man but you. That’s Saraj, who I haven’t forgiven because of what he did to me . . . to us.”
Mentioning Saraj’s name only fueled Canaan’s anger. He slung open the door and snatched the much-smaller man by his neck. “You have some fucking nerve coming around here after the mess you made.”
I fruitlessly tugged on his bicep. “Stop! Don’t hurt him.”
Saraj’s eyes bugged out of fear, though he tried to twist out of Canaan’s death grip.
I hit Canaan’s arm. “Let him go, now.”
Canaan still held on as he searched my face. “Are you choosing this son of a bitch over me?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Then step back,” he demanded.
“I can’t let you hurt him.”
“Oh, but he can hurt me, cost me millions in endorsements? Travel on my dime, knowing what he did?” His eyes became slits. “Why are you defending him?”
“Because . . . because we wouldn’t have fallen in love without him . . .” Canaan’s face floated in front of me. I tried to hold on to his arm before I lost my grasp and collapsed into blackness.
“Kensie, it’s okay. Open your eyes.” Saraj’s voice seemed near yet far away. Had everything been a dream? Maybe I missed Canaan so terribly that I manifested him in my mind, and he had never called me or stopped by.
I slowly awakened in my bedroom, and a concerned Saraj smiled weakly. I asked, “What happened?”
“Baby girl, you passed out for about thirty-five minutes.”
“Where’s Canaan? Is he here?”
“On the phone with Mama Murielle on the balcony. He called his doctor first, who told him you were probably light-headed because of the drama and possibly dehydration, which is common in this Houston heat.” Saraj leaned closer. “Or because you might be pregnant?”
Tears welled, and I admitted, “I bought a test yesterday and have been too scared to take it.”
“Why?”
I looked past him toward the door. “I don’t want to be pregnant.”
Saraj sighed. “Whether you want to be or not, you need to know.”
“I’m so excited about the contract that I didn’t want to mess it up with baby news. I’ll figure it out after New York.”
“So? A baby would make you smile more.”
I pushed up against the headboard. “Canaan barely has time for me. He won’t have time for me and a baby with everything he’s trying to accomplish. And I’m trying to finish school and perhaps teach in D.C. He’s not going to want to coparent with me when we’re in two different cities.”
“Doesn’t matter what he wants. What do you want?”
I wiped my eyes and rambled. “He might think I trapped him . . . we have so much to work through . . . he’s too much .
. . or maybe I’m too stubborn . . . I don’t know if we’re possible .
. . I’m not sure I want to be tied to Canaan .
. . I don’t want Canaan to feel he has to be with me .
. . It’s just best if I’m not pregnant until he and I are sure of each other. ”
When a subdued, fully dressed Canaan walked in on the tail end of my conversation, holding a pregnancy test in his hand, I shut my eyes. “I found this in a bag on the table. Were you planning on telling me?”
I covered my face with my arms. “I don’t even know for sure if there’s something to tell you.”
“You know,” he insisted. “But I get it.”
With my heart thumping against my chest, I popped up in bed, pushing down the wave of nausea. “What do you get?”
He tossed the test on the bed. “Once you decide what you want to do, let me know.” He stared at the test on the bed while he spoke. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t feel trapped, and I’ll make time for you and for our baby.”
Before I could protest or stop him, Canaan turned around, and soon the front door closed.
“He heard me,” I wailed and fell back in bed.
“I didn’t mean what I said. I’m just so fucking scared.
Writing about relationships and living them are two different things.
I promised myself I would try with the next man, even though the man I want to be with is right here, right now.
As much as I hate to admit it, I get my parents’ crazy relationship more. ”
Saraj climbed into bed beside me and wrapped his arm around me. “Let’s take the test first and then call him. You need to decide the future with him. Not alone. It’s his baby too.”
I sniffed. “That’s the second test. I took one already.”
“And?”
“I couldn’t look at the results. It’s in my bathroom, wrapped in tissue in my medicine cabinet.” I implored, “Can you look and tell me?”
Saraj hurried to the bathroom and called out. “Baby girl, relax. You’re not pregnant.”
Fresh tears broke, and I covered my head with my pillow as I sobbed. I was so sure I was pregnant. Sure I always had a piece of Canaan.
Saraj rubbed my shoulder. “Those tears don’t sound happy.”
I mumbled, “Because I’m upset.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be tied to Canaan. Now, you’re not.”
“Why do I keep lying to myself? I still love him from the depths of my soul. I can’t take off his ring because it’s my only physical connection to him.
I want to be tethered to him forever. Of course, I wanted his baby,” I sniffed.
“When I first thought I might be pregnant, I rubbed my stomach, excited about the possibilities. Then I let fear and doubt seep in again. Canaan is right. I knew he was going through a lot, and instead of standing firm and fighting for him, I left him. Just like his mother did.”
“It’s not too late to fight for him, Kensie.
” Saraj leaned back to see my face. “Although I was dead wrong for what I did and would never hurt you again, I’ll never regret it.
You wouldn’t be with him if I hadn’t done what I did.
He makes you happy. You make him happy. Fudge all the other nonsense that keeps you apart. ”
“Fudge?” I giggled. “Man, I missed you.”
Saraj opened his arms, and I embraced him. He whispered, “I know I still need to grovel. Need to show—”
I cut him off. “Yep, you do.”
He rolled his eyes. “Can I finish? I see why Canaan gets frustrated with you.”
I jerked my head. “All right . . . All right. Go ahead.”
Saraj rolled his neck. “Like I was saying . . . I still need to grovel and beg for your forgiveness, to show you how truly sorry I am . . . but right now, you need to go after your man.”
Easing to the edge of my bed with exactly that thought on my mind, I stopped moving. “Are you done? Don’t want to frustrate you.”
Saraj smiled from where he still rested against the headboard. “Not quite.”
“What?” I asked impatiently as I slipped on sparkly flip-flops, ready to break laws to get to Canaan. It was July, and my pajama shorts and tank would do in the Houston heat.
“I lied. You are pregnant.”
Joy and relief expanded my heart as I laughed loudly and hit him with a pillow. “Why would you lie?”
He easily grabbed the offending pillow out of my hand before I hit him again. “I wanted you to be sure how you felt.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dirty trick. What if I were happy I wasn’t pregnant?”
“Baby girl, we’ve been friends for too long. You wanted that man’s baby. Now, go, because once you get back home, we have a trip to New York to plan.”
“We do,” I agreed and hurried down the stairs. I grabbed my phone and called Canaan as I walked out the door. The familiar tone sounded in the night air. I cried out at the sight of Canaan casually leaning against his car parked behind mine in my driveway.
Canaan pushed off his vehicle. “I couldn’t leave without knowing.”
I hurried to him and slipped my arms under his. “Canaan Jackson, will you love me always like I will always love you?”
“Yes.” His gorgeous lips curved. “Kensie Garrett, will you promise to fight for us even when I’m being an asshole?”
“Yes. I realized too late that when I walked out of your life, I probably made you feel abandoned all over again. I’m so sorry.” I touched his cheek.
“And I’m sorry for pushing you away when I needed you the most.” Canaan brushed his lips against mine. “Won’t happen again.”
I grinned at him. “So, are we doing this for real this time?”
“Only if you’ll agree to be my wife again.” He hugged me.
“I might as well be your wife since you knocked me up.” I tugged on his beard.
Elation and nervousness flitted across his expression as he cupped my face. “Are you sure about having my baby and being tied to me? I know I’m a lot.”
I covered his hands on my face with mine. “What you heard was fear. I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this baby or really love me that I hurt you again.”
He nodded. “We need to work on that because I never want to hurt you or make you doubt my love for you again.”
“The only man I’ll ever want, need, and love is you.”
Canaan ran his hand over my back to grab my hips possessively. “You better remember that this is mine forever.”
I shook my head. “I swear you act like my ass is the only thing you missed.”
“It is. I was so used to this . . .” He squeezed my behind “. . . bumping against me every morning. I cried at the thought that I couldn’t touch, taste, or watch it bounce.”
“I swear I hate you.”
He kissed me and murmured against my lips, “I hate you so much too.”