21
Career Day and Sabina doesn't want to do this.
"I told you not to reschedule your photoshoot," Tristan mutters again beside her, head turned towards Maya's parents. Her dad is an architect and her mother is a civil engineer. "You could be reading thirst tweets by now."
Sabina, despite her anxiousness and slight regret, tries for a smile. "Well, at least you can keep your jealous side at bay."
"Why would I be jealous?" he whispers, putting a hand on her knee and squeezing it. "I may not be thirst tweeting, but I'm the only one who's touching. They should be the ones jealous."
Sabina bites her lip and pushes his hand off, clearing her throat. "We are at Brandon's school. Shut up."
He grins, leaning back and throwing an arm at the back of her chair.
Sabina's leg bounces. She looks around the classroom—all colors and big letters and small desks and small chairs. Little breathing bodies everywhere, parents fussing over their little costumes.
There's an itch underneath her skin. Sabina tries to ignore it.
When Brandon's name is called, Sabina sucks in a sharp breath. Tristan stands up first and reaches his hand out to his son with a smile. "Okay, up you go, bud."
Sabina stays frozen in her seat for two seconds, unwilling to move even with everyone's eyes on her, until her boyfriend looks back at her. "Babe. Coming?"
She shakes her head, shouting at herself to snap out of it, and stands up shakily, mustering up her smile. "Yeah."
Brandon's small hands wrap around Sabina's big one, and he drags her and Tristan with all his might to the front of the room. Sabina gulps as soon as she's faced with Brandon's other classmates and their parents, and she looks down at herself, brushing her hands over her dress—light blue with puffed long-sleeved made of denim jacket fabric.
She changed clothes ten times until Tristan had enough and snapped at her that she looked amazing no matter what and that they had to go or they'll be late.
Brandon lets go of their hands and puffs his chest out, loudly saying, "Good day! I'm Brandon Bishop, and I want to be a blueberry farmer someday."
Black pants to avoid stains, a sunhat, and a cute plaid shirt. Sabina feels a surge of admiration in her chest out of love for this boy of blueberries.
"This is my Papa," he says, turning to Tristan. "And this is my Mama."
Sabina almost chokes on her saliva.
That wasn't in the script.
Tristan finds her hand quickly and squeezes her fingers once, almost reassuringly, before he lets go. "Hello. My name is Tristan. I'm a secretary for a publication company, but I also stream and play games in my free time."
He looks at Sabina and smiles at her.
Sabina clears her throat and steps forward. "Hi, I'm Sabina. I'm a model and an editor for The Fit, the country's leading lifestyle magazine. Thank you."
When they sit, Tristan leans in and whispers, "I'm sorry, I told him to leave the introduction to me."
"It's okay," Sabina whispers, not looking at him.
"Kyle, don't freak out, please."
"I'm not." Sabina swallows the bile in her throat. She looks around the classroom again, feeling her heart rate speed up. She's not sure, but she thinks the walls are closing in on her.
Sensing her mood, Tristan lets it go. He also promised they would leave as soon as it was over, as soon as Brandon was done taking pictures with them and with his classmates.
But a couple of the other parents walk towards them as they wait for the kid outside, and Sabina pulls on Tristan's sleeve, turning away from them. "Bishop, let's go, now."
"Brand isn't done," he says, blinking at her, almost stumbling from the harshness of Sabina's pull.
"We'll come back," Sabina hisses urgently, but Tristan doesn't budge.
"Hi!" a cheery father greets them. He's bald and if Sabina cared, she'd remember he's the real estate agent. "Tristan, it's good to see you again."
Tristan is a good parent to Brandon. He's around most of the time—of course the other parents would know and recognize him. He goes to PTAs. He goes to game days, Family Days, and he goes to fucking Career Days.
"You too, Bill." Tristan smiles at him, shaking his hand. "Nora, hi."
Bill's wife is the...Sabina doesn't care enough to remember (she doesn't even remember whose parents these are), but she has a friendly smile plastered on her face, too. "Hi, Tristan. We just wanted to say how cute Brandon is and we wanted to meet his mother."
Mother?!
Sabina feels her insides churning. She's going to throw up.
Tristan lets out a nervous chuckle, putting an arm around her waist. Sabina barely feels it. "Nora, Bill, this is Sabina, my girlfriend."
"Hello," Sabina croaks, shaking their hands. She sounds like she's dying. Maybe she is.
She catches the exact moment Bill's eyes widen. "Aren't you...no way. Are you Sabina Kyle?"
Jesus Christ. Sabina tries to keep her smile. "Yes."
"I've seen you on my magazines and you're all over the internet!" Nora gasps. "I knew you looked familiar!"
Tristan laughs again. "She, uh, she's on a break right now from the media."
Bill and Nora laugh, still staring at her. "Oh, don't worry." Bill waves his hand dismissively, winking. "It's just really fascinating and admirable how you're taking on the role of Brandon's mother, just like how Tristan here took on the role as his father. We knew that he was young, but you're young, too, Sabina. Wow."
"Truly amazing, how do you guys do it?" Nora asks curiously, eyes darting between the two of them.
"We're nothing special," Tristan says quietly with a smile, rubbing his hand on her waist. "We're also working like you guys are. We love Brandon like you love Riley, and we make it work."
We, we, we.
Sabina nods once.
Bill and Nora aren't the last people who approach them, and they all say the same thing: Sabina is Brandon's mother, Sabina's so young, Tristan's so young, you guys are amazing and Brandon is lucky.
When they finally, finally get to the car, Sabina fumbles with her own seatbelt with shaking fingers while Tristan puts on Brandon's.
She's quiet during the drive home. Brandon even asks to stop by McDonald's, but Tristan answers, "I think Sabina's tired, buddy, okay? I'll make you food at home and a blueberry shake, sound good?"
In his unit, Tristan follows Brandon into the bathroom to undress him out of his farmer clothes, wash him and dress him again into pajamas. Sabina heads to the couch, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.
Her boyfriend sits next to her after a few minutes, putting a hand under her thighs to plop them on his lap, and his hands stroke her legs gently. "Are you angry?" he asks quietly.
Sabina shakes her head, eyes closed. "No."
"You wanna talk to me about it?"
No, but she needs to. Sabina sighs. "I just...I feel weird."
"I'm sorry," he breathes, wrapping an arm around her when she moves closer to hug him. "I know it freaked you out. Everything did."
"It's not your fault," Sabina murmurs, playing with the hem of his shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to it, maybe it'll get easier over time."
He doesn't say anything else. Just kisses her forehead and plays with her hair.
Sabina asks, "Where's Brand? I thought you were making him food."
"He crashed," he answers with a smile. "He's exhausted, I knew I shouldn't have made him stay up until ten last night."
Sabina grins, feeling a little better. "He said you had bathtub time and he's still the reigning champion of your thumb war."
Tristan chuckles, hugging her tight. "He won't accept defeat. You hungry?"
She nods. "Yes. Food please."
Tristan nods. "Okay."
"'Kay."
"...you know, I need to go to the kitchen in order to make you food. And in order to go to the kitchen, you have to let go of me."
Sabina rolls her eyes and pushes him off. "Smartass."
Tristan kisses her, smiling in her mouth. "I like it when you're clingy. What are you in the mood for?"
*
"Sabina, honey, your father tells me you haven't been talking to him."
Sabina groans out loud, hanging her head back. "Madeline, please. The whole point of having our spa days is to not talk about men."
Beside her, MJ snickers. "Ice queen's got a point."
"Stop calling me that, commitment-phobe."
"Bitch, I'll rip your nails off—"
"Try me, they're brand new—"
"Ladies," Madeline cuts in, raising an eyebrow. "Spa day is to not talk about men, but also not to bicker."
MJ rolls her eyes, relaxing back into her chair. "She's been cranky since this morning."
"This morning at five, Brandon woke us up and sneaked in our bed because he's been having nightmares from that horror movie he kept insisting to watch, and you know how small Tristan's bed is? How fucking small—it's—I fell. Twice. And then I slept on the kid's bed alone. You're going to wake up cranky too."
Her best friend hisses like she's in pain, grimacing. "Must be hard being a mother."
"Ugh!" Sabina's not proud of this, but she stomps her foot, feeling her head burn up. Her nail technician gets startled a bit, and Sabina will feel bad about that later, but not now. "I am not a mother."
MJ shrugs, grinning. Sabina has half a mind to clock her in the face with her new nails on her left hand.
"Relax, love," Madeline tells her, smiling gently. "Just relax. Stop provoking her, Mary Jane. You've got your own issues to deal with."
Sabina smirks. MJ huffs.
Andy's still quiet, staring at a distance while her nails are being done. They have to have at least one who's perfectly functioning among them, so Sabina raises an eyebrow and asks, "What's wrong with that one?"
The ginger's mouth curves. "She's thinking about how not to die from all her work when she has her kid."
Sabina blinks. "Oh, word?"
"Ah, that's right. You were blackout drunk and you danced with her husband's best friend when Rhysand told her that he wanted kids now if she wanted them. Andy cried."
Ah. Right. Sabina sighs. "I really don't get the hype around it. What's there to like?"
"About being pregnant?" Madeline asks.
"And lactating and going crazy from the hormones and your body swelling up." Sabina shudders. "And no sex, God. And then you lose sleep when they cry and you have to...touch shit and pee, I'm not touching anything."
"Well," Madeline starts, brushing her hair away from her face. "That's just all a part of making new life, and it's exciting for the parents because they'll be having a new addition to the family."
Sabina scrunches her nose. No matter how many times she hears it, it's not appealing.
"Who said you can't have sex when you're pregnant?" Andy demands suddenly, eyes widening as they meet Sabina's.
"Oh." The model tilts her head to the side. "I don't know, can you? I mean, your stomach..."
"It's a natural, normal part of pregnancy," she states, furrowing her eyebrows. "Penetration and the movement during intercourse won't harm the baby and it's fine unless the doctor says not to. What?" Andy laughs, like she's finding the whole thing ridiculous. And then it fades, and she mutters, looking off at a distance, "Oh my God. Did you say that because Rhys won't think I'm pretty anymore and he won't want to have sex with me?"
"Great," MJ says, shaking her head. She looks at Sabina pointedly. "You broke her."
"I didn't do shit."
"She's the only one functioning perfectly among the three of us and you broke her."
"I did not say that, Andy. If he doesn't think you're pretty while bloated—sorry, pregnant—then divorce him."
Madeline laughs out loud, clapping her hands. "Oh, you girls are such a joy to be with."
"Glad you find us entertaining, Mom," MJ says, snickering.
"I'm gonna cry," Andy whispers. "What if I suck at it? What if the baby hates me?"
At that, Sabina guffaws. She throws her head back and everything. "Ah, sweetheart. You can't suck at parenting when I don't suck at it. And Brandon doesn't hate me, you're good. Trust the fuck outta me."
The redhead looks at her and raises an eyebrow. "Not a mother, huh?"
"Shut up, tramp."
After brunch, in which period of time Tristan texts Sabina we miss u with a picture of him and Brandon cuddled on the sofa and Sabina has to press the phone to her heart and breathe in and out because shit, she has a hot daddy for a boyfriend who has a cute baby boy he's looking after, she replies you better <3, Sabina decides she has to go see her dad because they left things on a bad note, and she loves him even though she doesn't necessarily understand him.
Allan's eyes smile before his mouth does when he opens the door, and he hugs her tight before Sabina can get a word out. "Oh, baby."
She's been dodging his calls left and right and replying only to the important messages. Sabina breathes in her father's scent and mutters, "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too." He pulls back to look at her, complete regret written in his face. Allan cups her cheeks and smiles. "You want some coffee?"
Sabina nods, taking a step inside. "Yes, please."
On the couch, when they're both settled in, Sabina takes a sip and almost winces—her dad made it as she wanted it before. Pre-Tristan. It's not sweet.
Damn it, Bishop. He's infiltrated her taste buds now, too.
She swallows what's in her mouth and says, "Dad, I'm sorry I bitched out on you about wanting to have grandchildren."
He takes a deep breath and purses his lips. "Sweetie, it...I want one. I want a grandchild. But it doesn't matter what I want if you don't want it. You won't be happy. And it's still your decision and as your father, I will support whatever decision you make."
Sabina runs a hand through har face, sucking in a deep breath. "I haven't changed my mind. I don't think I ever will," she whispers.
Allan smiles, wrapping an arm around her. "I know. About something this big, you rarely do. And this isn't clothes shopping or choosing what to eat for breakfast—this is your life and this is who you are." He rubs her shoulder and laughs a little. "I would be concerned if you told me you changed your mind, and it would've been because of Tristan. And I don't want you to make your decisions because of him."
"I'm not." Sabina presses her fingers to her forehead and shuts her eyes. "I love him, but I don't want to change because of him. Or for him. I would hate myself, I'll be miserable, and I did not work this hard or spend years of my life trying to be confident and content with who I am to change."
Allan grins. He stares at his daughter, stroking her face, and murmurs, "When did you grow up so fast?"
Sabina manages a laugh. She hugs him. "You know MJ, Andy, and I are all just talking about adult shit and babies now? It's just weird because I felt like so little time has passed since we were out drinking and partying in college, and MJ was getting her shit fixed with Adrian and Andy was losing her v-card to Rhysand, and I was...I don't know, I was doing some hot girl shit."
Her dad chuckles, rubbing her back. "You've all grown up, sweetie."
Sabina sighs. "Dad, I'm really sorry."
"Don't apologize," he says, kissing her head. "What about Brandon?"
She swallows thickly. "I love him, too," she whispers.
Allan hums. "But you're not happy."
"No." She laughs a little again, and she wipes a tear the falls on her face. "Does this make me a horrible person? Will Tristan hate me?"
"No, baby. You know you're not. And Tristan loves you."
"That's what hurts. This hurts," she chokes out, covering her mouth.
"I know, sweetie. I know."
*
"No, but I want that property."
"You don't have enough money for it," Sabina argues, irritated. "I'm the banker, you're poor."
"But I just passed Go!" Ian snaps. "And you didn't give me 200!"
"Because of the card—" Sabina stops, exhaling. "Brand, you wanna explain to your Auntie why she can't buy that property?"
"You're poor," Brandon says, rolling the dice. "I'm richer than you. Oh, sweet, six!"
Sabina rubs Ian's shoulder. "You're a doctor, it's okay, you don't have a life outside the hospital."
The brunette sneers at her.
Tristan comes out of his room, freshly-showered and dressed. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys off the counter. "Brand, baby, you ready to go?"
Sabina reaches out and fixes the boy's hair while he moves his figure across the Monopoly board. "Up you go, sweetheart. You and Papa are going to get a haircut and buy the girls some food before you go home, 'kay?"
Brandon nods, pushing up to his feet. "Okay."
Sabina leaves Ian trying to figure out why she's so poor in Monopoly. She stands and steps closer to her boyfriend while he waits for his son to put on his shoes. "Drive safe."
Tristan smiles, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Spending time with my sister, are you?"
Sabina rolls her eyes, running her hand over his stomach under his shirt. "She sucks at Monopoly."
"I heard that," Ian snaps.
"We'll try not to kill each other while you're gone." She tiptoes and kisses him on the lips. "Stop smiling."
"I can't, I'm happy," he whispers, leaning downwards, twisting his ball cap around so he can press his face closer to hers, kissing her deep and tilting her head to the side with a hand on her chin. His other hand slides down to her bottom.
"Papa, let's go!" Brandon cheers, jumping and down, his little backpack jumping with him on his shoulder.
"He said go," Sabina whispers, kissing him one last time, then turns him around and smacks his bottom. "Take care of your Papa, Brand!"
"Okay!"
Ian's smirking when they're gone. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"Shut up," Sabina says, throwing a pillow at her. It's been four days.
They give up on Monopoly and resort to watching a show playing on the television they could care less about. When the boys get home, both with a new haircut, Sabina and Ian get out of the couch after hours, stiff and cramped, stomachs rumbling.
"You look good, sweetie," Ian says to Brandon, ruffling his hair.
Tristan looks at Sabina, chewing his food.
Sabina blinks at him. "Oh! Oh, yeah, you look good, too, honey."
Tristan scowls. Ian laughs.
"Sabina," Brandon calls, tapping her on the shoulder repeatedly. He has chicken sauce on his mouth and Sabina wipes it off with her finger. "Papa and me were at the store buying chicken and some pretty girl told Papa they like his hair."
Tristan coughs. "What girl?"
Sabina raises an eyebrow, turning her head to look at her boyfriend. "Some pretty girl told Papa they like his hair?"
"Yeah," Brandon says, swinging his legs.
"Okay." Sabina props her chin on her palm and stares at Tristan. "Okay, and what did Papa say?"
"He smiled."
"Oh, he smiled," Sabina repeats, smiling.
Tristan bites his lip, mouth pulling up at the corners. He shakes his head. "I was being polite."
Sabina grins. "He wanna smile at girls now."
"Brand, why you gotta do this to me?" Tristan groans, running a hand through his face.
Ian chews her chicken. "I'll take him out for ice cream after dinner. Be as loud as you want."
Sabina smiles at her. "Please. Thank you."
On his bed, Sabina pins Tristan's hands above his head, rolling her hips and panting. "God, fuck."
"Please," he moans, out of breath. "Please, Sabina—"
"Shut up," Sabina breathes, slamming his hands down when they try to move away from her hold. "Shut up, you're mine," she growls next to his ear, arching her back. "You're mine, right?"
"Yours," Tristan breathes in assurance. "Always yours. Fuck, shit—"
"Good. You're mine, so I'll do what I want with you."
After, Tristan drops his head on Sabina's shoulder, kissing her skin, catching his breath. "God. Remind me to thank Brandon."
"Shut up," Sabina says fondly, kissing him sweetly. She puts on her bra and he helps her, strapping it in. "You're such an idiot."
"Says the woman who fucked my brains out because she got jealous someone complimented my hair," Tristan snorts, running his fingers down her back.
Sabina grins. "It gave me an excuse to have my way with you."
Brandon and Ian come back, and all of them play a round of Monopoly before the kid's bedtime (Sabina wins). When he's put to bed and Ian slumps down on the couch to continue watching that show, Tristan and Sabina go back to his room to play a quick game. Sabina lays her butt on his lap, stomach laid flat on the mattress, while he plays.
When he gets excited, he slams his hand down her butt. It's a win-win.
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