Chapter Twenty Eight Exposed #2
Arina shifts, her tone firm but fiery. “But Jainey… you can’t just sit on this shit.
You can’t let it eat you alive in your head.
If there’s even a chance it’s true—you need to confront him.
Like today. Look him dead in the face and get the truth.
Don’t let him think he can continue to play you and still sleep easy at night in your bed.
You’re not his little secret—make him sweat. ”
My pulse jumps, racing at the thought of confronting him. I don’t say anything else. I just let the silence spread between us, my chest tightening around thoughts I can’t outrun.
I’m not enough.
I never am.
And lately… I’m starting to think I never was. No matter how much I give, no matter how hard I love, it never accounts for anything. I gave him almost all of me—my time, my trust, my space—and he ripped through it like it was disposable.
Like I’m disposable.
And there’s nothing he can say or do to fix this. Nothing.
I sigh, lift my head, and groan, “Bitch, last night was suppose to be one to remember—but now all I can think about is Levy and a fucking baby, and my mom showing up trying to ruin my night.”
She snaps upright, her baby blue’s wide. “I’m sorry—what? Your mom came here? Last night? Where the hell was I when that circus pulled up? What’d she want?”
“She—my dumbass brother—told her where I’m staying.
I don’t even know why she showed up—all she did was talk shit, calling me a whore and any other names she could think of.
” I laugh, but it’s bitter. “Which is crazy, because she was pregnant by my age with her second kid. But I’m a whore? Yeah, okay.”
Arina scoffs, rolling her eyes hard. “Girl, please. The nerve she has. She really wasted gas coming over here just to run her mouth? I swear, she needs a hobby that’s not you.”
I force a laugh, pushing the thought of her down like I always do—like she’s a chapter I should’ve closed a long time ago. Tracey will always be this way. Blind to the damage she causes and never seeing the bruises she leaves on my heart. I’m tired. But I can’t dwell on it right now.
“Yeah… I don’t even know where you were at the time—only that once Sunny told me she was here, I had to handle that shit alone. I haven’t even told Levy yet. But now I don’t even see the point—he’s got bigger shit to deal with, like figuring out where he’s gonna stay once I kick his ass out.”
Arina snorts, folding her arms. “Good. Don’t waste any more of your time on him. Let him figure out his own damn housing bullshit. And your mom can stay pressed from a distance like she’s been doing. We got enough drama without her adding to the fucking mix.”
“Tell me about it, bitch. I don’t even want to deal with my own mom drama.”
We keep cleaning, slipping around each other, music from Arina’s speaker filling the space like it’s suppose to help drain some of the tension in my brain.
I force myself to sing a line or two, even let out a laugh when she makes a face at me, but the pit in my stomach doesn’t ease—not even a little.
It just sits there reminding me of the truth that won’t leave me alone.
Levy really has a fucking baby on the way.
By the time the clock edges toward eleven, the house looks almost normal again. Trash bags are lined up by the door, the counters spotless, and the floor is finally cleared. My body still aches, but at least the mess is gone.
I hear footsteps down the hall. Levy walks in—rugged, half-asleep, his hair sticking up in every direction.
His eyes are heavy, still glazed from sleep, and he rubs at his jaw with one hand like even waking up feels like too much effort.
For a second, I just stare at him, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my ass.
Arina glances between us, then back at me. She doesn’t say a word—just sets down the trash bag in her hand and quietly slips out of the room, her bedroom door clicking softly behind her. It’s just me and him now—and the truth pressing down on my chest.
She knows.
She knows I’m not going to be able to hold this shit in.
He grabs a half-empty water bottle from counter, gulping it down, then reaches for one of the trash bags.
His movements are sluggish, almost clumsy, like his body still hasn’t caught up to being awake.
I bend to grab the last of the cups scattered across the stove, my ears tuning more to the hum of the music than to him.
The beat is soft and steady, filling the suffocating silence stretching between us.
For a moment, it feels almost normal—the two of us cleaning together, moving around the room without bumping into each other, like we’ve done this a hundred times before. And the sad part is… we have.
But it isn’t normal.
Not even close.
I don’t look at him directly. I’m not ready for what’s about to come out of my mouth. But I can feel it building, burning dangerously at the back of my throat. Every time I catch him in my peripheral vision, my stomach nearly drops, my thoughts screaming at me all over again.
Did he really think I’d never find out? How can he be so calm when he has a baby coming? When the baby comes, where does that leave me? I did not sign up to be a stepmom at fucking nineteen.
He stops mid-reach, the bag hanging from his hand as his eyes cut over to me. His brows knit, the haze of sleep clearing just enough for him to really take me in. “You good, babe?” he murmurs, concern softening his sluggish tone.
The thin thread holding me together snaps, and before I can stop myself, the words spill out.
“No. Actually, I’m not good,” I snap, louder than the music humming behind us. “I know about the girl—the one you worked with. She told Arina about some pregnant girl showing up at your job, screaming that you’re a liar, a cheater, a deadbeat.”
“But what really pisses me off, is how you’ve been walking around like none of it was happening. You let me walk around here loving you, trusting you, while some other girl is out there carrying your baby. How could you do that to me, Levy?”
The bag in his hand slips slightly, his knuckles whitening around the plastic. His jaw goes slack, his eyes wide. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stands frozen like a fucking statue.
My chest rises and falls so fast it hurts, my throat burns as the words keep pouring out. “How could you make plans for our future—when you had all of this going on behind my back? Who does that?”
Still—nothing. Not a word. Just silence.
And in that silence, the pit in my stomach grows heavier.
The quiet stretches, filling every corner of the room, thicker than the mess we just cleaned. I can still hear the music faintly humming from Arina’s speaker, but it feels distant now, muffled—like it doesn’t belong here anymore.
His eyes stay locked on mine, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak.
Not one word. Not even a breath of explanation.
I fold my arms over my chest, pulse pounding in my ears.
The longer he stays quiet, the harder it is to breathe.
Each second that ticks by feels like proof—confirmation of everything Arina told me.
He doesn’t even have to say it out loud—his actions are doing a great job of answering for him.
But my heart still needs to hear him say it—at least own up to it.
My lips part, ready to push again, but I stop myself.
I don’t want to give him another out. I want him to speak.
I want to hear it from his mouth. So, I stand still in the silence—waiting.
Waiting for his first words. Waiting to see if he’ll admit it, deny it, or lie straight to my face.
But the longer he stands like a fucking mannequin, the angrier I get.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I drop the rag I’ve been holding onto the counter, the sound sharp in the quiet tension.
“How can you say nothing right now?” I snap, my voice shaking. “Oh that’s right—you have no excuse, that’s why. There’s nothing you can say that would make this shit okay Levy.”
His mouth opens slightly, but nothing comes out.
Nothing.
I storm past him, pushing out the door. The air outside hits me like a wall. My slippers slap against the sidewalk, walking with no direction—just moving, because standing still feels like suffocating right now.
“I just want him gone,” I scream, my breath coming out shaky in the cool air. I’m done. I can’t let him stay after this—let alone be with him.