Emerald Eyes

The room was silent. No one knew what to say.

And neither did you.

The silence was making you more uncomfortable. You wished Tré would say something witty. You wished Mike would try and make everything more positive.

You wish those emerald eyes would stare at you and say that everything was going to be okay. You wanted him to tell you he was always going to be there for you. You wanted him to rub your back to calm you down.

You wanted him to put his head on your bare stomach and talk to your-his-child growing inside of you.

You felt a hand on your knee. You looked up and saw Mike's icy blue eyes. "Don't worry, Roxy," his eyes weakly smiling at you. "Everything is going to be okay. You're bringing a new life into the world. That's such an exciting thing."

"Yeah!" Tré jumped in. "I wish I could bring a child into the world. All I can do is get a girl knocked up. Man, do I wish I was pregnant," he pouted while crossing his arms.

You giggled. Tré looked up at you and smirked, "Wanna sperminate me, Roxy?!"

You laughed even harder. It was difficult not to when he was around. him and Mike combined always made a tense mood into a comfortable one. You don't know what you would have even done if you hadn't met them.

Well, two of the three things you wished for in the last ten minutes came true.

You looked to him and his green eyes we staring out into the window. You wished you could talk to him about it, but you didn't know if Tré knew who the father was. You didn't want to start more problems than what needed to be started. So you kept your mouth shut and decided to talk to him about it when you two were alone.

If you two were ever alone.

What if you two were never the same again? What if he left you and this new life growing inside of you? What if you had to keep hidden who the father of this child was forever? What if you had to raise he or she by yourself forever? You couldn't do this alone, you needed the help and support you get from a husband.

But he isn't your husband. Not even a boyfriend. He isn't even yours. He's someone else's. And you can never change that.

"Billie," Mike broke the silence, "You okay?"

"Fine," he mumbled. "I just need some air." He got up and left your home.

"What's his problem?" Tré asked innocently. You tell the two remaining men in the home you'll be right back. You hear them start talking about starting a new album when you walk out of the room.

You open the door and walk outside. The cool air hits your face and it feels refreshing. You take in the smells of nearby flowers you planted last year. You look across your front lawn and see him sitting on the tree swing you had installed. You walk up next to him and sit down.

It was silent, all that was heard were passing cars and chirping birds. You broke the silence by saying if he didn't want anything to do with the child you would understand.

And that was the truth. You did understand. He had so much going on in his life right now. The last thing he needed was a child with his mistress. The press would be all over this story. His career could end. His marriage would end. And his kids would be the victims of divorced parents. It would ruin him if anyone found out.

You were cut of in your train of thought by him grabbing your face and staring into your eyes. "Roxana, don't ever say that. I want to be with this child from their very first step to their graduation walk. I want to be in his, or her, life always. I want them to always have a father, no matter what. I don't care what the consequences are, I will always be there."

You feel your eyes watering up. You never felt so moved by what he has said. You believed every words and you knew you'd never have to worry again.

But in the back of your head, the thought of Adrienne finding out clouded everything else. How was this going to work? What were you going to tell her? Were you going to lie and say the father is another man, or were you going to come out with it and tell her everything?

You felt him rub the back of your neck, and it was relaxing.

You figured you had time to work it out. Nine months actually.