Page 1 of Staying for Her

Billie

“You guys were fantastic. I know I got some fantastic shots,” I say while collecting my camera equipment and beaming at the couple standing in front of me. I just finished doing their engagement session and honestly, I think I got some of the best pictures I have ever taken today, and I’m so excited to go home and edit them.

“Thanks, Billie. This has been the best day.” Eve smiles at her fiancé and Evan takes her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it lightly. Her eyes glaze over, the love evident between them and I can’t help that pang of jealousy I feel from time to time when I do shoots like this. I love love. I adore the passion, the excitement, and the uncertainty of it all but for some reason days like this, when I have a couple that is so in love that it comes through so naturally, I wonder if I’m wasting my time with Mike.

Don’t get me wrong, Mike and I are good, great even, but there’s this pang of uncertainty that trails behind me every minute of the day, wondering if he’s really the one I want for the rest of my life. He’s a video game designer and is incredibly talented at what he does. But it takes over his entire life and sometimes I feel like second best.

“Do you know when you’ll have the photos done?” Evan asks, smiling down at Eve. “I don’t mean to rush you, I’m just excited to see them.”

I nod, understanding since this is a question I get almost every session.

“It shouldn’t take any more than a week. But I will definitely get you some photos by tomorrow just so you can see what we’re working with.”

Eve’s eyes grow and that smile that lights her entire face peers up at her fiancé. “That’s amazing. Thank you so much!”

The excitement is contagious as we walk back toward the parking lot, leaving the empty field behind. I chose the field because I knew it would be the best place to showcase their boho style and from what they’ve shown me about their wedding decor, these photos will fit in quite nicely.

“I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, and remember to send me that shot list you want for your wedding,” I say, waving as I make my way to my car, opening my trunk and placing all my equipment in my trunk and sighing as I finally sit for the first time in a few hours. I love being a photographer and I’m damn good at it, hence the reason my calendar has been booked solid for two years straight. But sometimes all I want to do is sit down and let someone else do all the work.

After about twenty minutes, I finally make it home. Realizing I never told Mike I was done early, I shrug it off because I know he’s probably sitting in front of the TV playing a video game like he does every night when I come home. The moment I park and see his car sitting in the spot next to mine, I smile, wondering if he’s made dinner or if we’ll need to order in like the last few nights.

I walk up the three flights of stairs of our apartment building, noting the pile of cardboard that sits next to the recycling bin and I wonder if someone finally moved in across the hall. The unit was up for rent for months and for a while, I thought they’d never find someone to take it.

I rummage through my purse, trying to find my keys as my camera equipment causes me to have to stop and put everything down. Once my door is open and I drop everything on the floor, sighing at the relief in my shoulders, I notice that the living room is empty, which is where Mike usually is most of the day. It’s then I hear noises coming from the bedroom and a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. My fight-or-flight response comes roaring to the surface and I stand in my empty living room wondering if I really want to go back there and ruin the illusion of my relationship that I’ve created these past two years.

I take a breath and remember what my mother always told me before I left and moved to Harbour Cove. Don’t give part-time people a full-time position in your life. Know your worth and what you have to offer and never settle for anything less than you deserve. I never understood that sentiment, I always thought she was spewing one of those Facebook quotes and didn’t believe a thing she said, but right now standing at the cusp of everything in my life changing, I suddenly wish she were here to help me through this.

Just go in there and maybe it’s not what you think, I wonder as my feet slowly take me toward the hallway that leads to our bedroom. The closer I get, the louder they are, and the more I want to run and hide from this reality. But I know I can’t. I need to face this, face Mike and whoever else is behind that door.

I take a breath right before I open the door, seeing Mike on his knees with a very pregnant woman in front of him as he gives it to her hard and fast from behind. I don’t know what I expected. But this was not it.

“What the actual fuck,” I mutter aloud, and that’s when both sets of eyes flick up and see me standing in the doorway.

“You said she wasn’t going to be home until later!” the woman screeches, her head turning to see Mike’s wide eyes staring blankly my way.

I expect them to rush to get dressed, maybe even a hushed apology but what I get is Mike’s blank expression and a death stare from the woman who is now struggling to get up with her belly getting in the way.

“Seriously, Mike?” I say, looking between the two of them and suddenly the reality of the situation hits me and the tears begin to fall. “That’s your baby, isn’t it?” I whisper. The tips of my fingers are numb as they play with the hem of my shirt.

“Of course, it’s his,” the woman says as if she has every reason to be mad at me for barging in on them. The time line begins to connect in my head and I realize that this isn’t the first time this has happened and then from how big she is, I’d say it’s been happening for at least six months.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” I say to Mike, trying to ignore the woman that seems to refuse to leave us alone and it’s then that I can’t take anymore. I spin on my heels and head into the living room as the anger begins to rise. I guess my gut feeling was right.

I linger in the kitchen, wondering what the hell I’m going to do now, and that’s when I can hear Mike and his apparent girlfriend arguing in the bedroom. I can’t take it anymore, I need to get out of here, so I open the front door and slam it shut, basking in the rumble it created in the empty hallway.

What has my life become? This morning it was good, maybe not as perfect as I wanted it to be, but everything was steady, everything was working out. All the emotions that have been hiding since walking in on them crash to the surface, and the second my foot connects with the wall opposite my front door, searing pain radiates up my leg as I screech in pain, falling to the floor.

“That was fucking stupid,” I mutter to myself as I shut my eyes, the sound of a door opening filtering through my brain. “You can go back inside and maybe clean off your dick before you talk to me.”

I expect Mike to say something stupid, as per usual, but all I hear is a laugh I’ve never heard before rumble over my skin. My eyes flick up to see probably the best-looking man I have ever seen, and that’s not just because he’s only in a towel standing in the doorway opposite me, showing off his spectacular set of abs, chest full of tattoos, and a mop of wet hair on the top of his head.

“You okay down there?” he asks, that smirk way too deadly for my liking, and before I stop myself, I look into his deep-brown eyes and wonder how this man doesn’t have a line of women outside of his door begging for him to take them because that’s my base instinct at this moment and I am not ashamed of it.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster, and from the way his laugh filters through the fog of anger surrounding it, I can’t help but smile.

“Well, I heard yelling and then something hit my wall and I wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

My face heats instantly because of course he would have heard when my foot connected with his wall.

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