Trading Heartbeats
Chapter 22 - Answers Given
Khaila remained there, staring at him. Punk gave a slight chuckle before asking once more, "What? No hug?" Half of Khaila wanted to slam the door in his cocky face, but half wanted to invite him in. She knew she still cared for Punk, and if he truly wanted her back, then maybe … just maybe that's what he would get … for the sake of the child - if she is pregnant - that is. Khaila merely stepped aside allowing Punk inside. She'd seen the expression on Punk's face shift into a sweetly surprised expression. He had probably been expecting the slammed door, Khaila thought to herself. Punk entered into the apartment hesitantly. He looked around at Khaila who closed the door silently and stood there in front of him. Neither spoke for what felt like hours. Punk opened his mouth to speak, but he'd been stopped by a pair of lips crashing onto his.
Punk, stunned at first by the suddenness of the kiss, soon wrapped his arms around Khaila's waist and shared in the kiss. As they pulled away, Punk's hazel eyes stared into Khaila's deep brown eyes. "Khaila, I-"
"I know," she finished in a whisper. Punk bit his lip and released it slowly as he rubbed her back soothingly, still holding her close to him. "But I don't forgive you," she whispered to him once more. Punk raised one eyebrow completely dumbfounded.
"What do you mean," he asked confusedly. Khaila swallowed and took a deep breath.
"I mean that I know you're sorry, but I'm not going to forgive you that easily," she told him. Punk's grip had gotten looser.
"Then why did you let me in," he asked her.
"I need to talk to you," she whispered once more. Khaila led Punk into her bedroom. Punk still bore a confused look on his face. What was that kiss about? Was it simply a tease? And what did Khaila need to talk to him about? Punk's head swam with questions that were incapable of developing answers to themselves. As they both sat down on Khaila's bed, Khaila turned to him. "Punk," she whispered her voice shaky at what she was about to tell him next.
Punk placed an arm around her. He'd begun to think back for some sort of clue as to why she'd been acting this way. What had happened the night of the affair? "I don't know for sure, but," she continued. Punk had still been trying to work out what she was about to say. He remembered arriving at her suite, getting yelled at by her. She'd said something at the last moment - something that had made him ashamed, even more, about his affair with Amelia. Suddenly, he remembered her placing her hand on her stomach. "I'll know soon, whether or not I'm-" she pursued her sentence.
"Pregnant," Punk stated his realization breathlessly. He'd just realized the meaning for her welcoming him back into her apartment, and her life. It wasn't for him; it wasn't for her; it was for their child … if they were having one. This was not his plan. Khaila studied his face carefully for any hint of uneasiness. Punk, however, had always been The Master of Façade. Although his brain had been overworking itself, trying to process all this realization, his face hadn't shown a bit of it. Khaila placed a hand on his, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him. Punk merely looked at her then at their hands. He cleared his throat a bit, "S-So, are you?" Khaila merely shrugged and looked up at the clock. Realizing it had been past five minutes, she sprung up from her seat on the bed.
"I suppose we'll find out," she told him in a hushed voice as she proceeded back into the bathroom. Punk watched as she strolled her way to the bathroom, his heart pounding in his own chest. What if she were pregnant? He couldn't possibly stay with her, could he? He had a life of his own! He couldn't stop to take care of a baby, but Khaila … He loved her, hadn't he? After all, he'd come all this way with a plan to win her back. He couldn't just leave her. Or could he? Maybe he shouldn't have come back. Punk rose up out of his seat in an attempt to walk through the bedroom door and then out of the apartment. As he was about to, however, he glanced back at the bathroom door which had been closed. Thinking of how much hurt it'd bring her if she'd exited to an invisible Punk, he heaved a heavy sigh and sat himself back on the bed. He'd hurt her far too much already. You love her, Punk, he told himself, you know you do. You wouldn't have come back if you hadn't. Punk sighed agreeing with himself and waiting impatiently for Khaila to come back out of the bathroom.
In a few seconds, the bathroom door had opened. Punk immediately leapt to his feet. He watched as Khaila made his way over to him - her face showing no signs of what the pregnancy test may have shown or not. Punk's heart had beat so loud against his chest that in this silence between the two, he was sure she could hear it. Khaila looked up at him, tears flooding her eyes. A slight smile had seemed to have broken out onto her face as the tears strolled down it. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, several knocks had resounded at the door. Punk rolled his eyes in the direction of the door. Placing his hands on the sides of her arms, he kissed her forehead gently. "I'll get it," he whispered. Khaila merely nodded, her smile long gone.
Punk strolled out of the bedroom and toward the apartment door. Swinging it open, he was greeted by the look of disgust, anger and shock rolled up into one and plastered on the faces of Brittany and Sonelle. "What're you doing here," Brittany exclaimed already making a start at Punk as if she were about to throw a punch. Sonelle quickly held her back, whereas Punk looked unmoved. He simply stared at the girls. "How did you even- Oh my God, you must've broken in! Where's Khaila? Sonelle, grab your phone, call the police-" Brittany fumed still trying to make her way to give Punk a clear punch to his jaw.
"Brittany," a voice from behind Punk had called. Brittany stopped fussing and Sonelle had let go of Brittany; she, too, was curiously craning her neck to see who was behind Punk. Punk gave a glance behind him and stepped aside with a smirk. Khaila appeared, standing there with tears still flooding her eyes.
"You let him in," Sonelle asked breathlessly trying to grasp all of this. Khaila gave a slight nod and invited the two in. Brittany and Sonelle both walked slowly into the apartment (Brittany glaring up at Punk as she passed him) dumbfounded. Had Khaila truly let this man who'd done nothing but hurt her into her apartment? "Um, Khaila," Sonelle whispered grabbing Khaila's arm and pulling her aside.
"Yes - What are you doing," Khaila asked as Sonelle slapped a hand to Khaila's forehead feeling for a fever.
"Are you sick? Is he drugging you? Are you being blackmailed," Sonelle asked.
"Um, no," Khaila answered taking Sonelle's hand off her forehead.
"Then why the bloody hell would you let this man in," Sonelle asked furiously in a whisper. Khaila gave a slight chuckle then her face had grown serious.
"I needed to talk to him, and now that you're here, I suppose I'll finish what I was about to say," Khaila told her not bothering to whisper. Brittany and Punk had seated themselves in the living room sitting as far away from each other as possible and giving each other nasty glares. Khaila and Sonelle entered the living room, and by doing so, all tension had been lifted … for the most part. Punk quickly stood up and placed an arm around Khaila. Khaila, in turn, held onto Punk for support, for she felt that her knees were about to give in at any moment. "So, you both know about my pregnancy scare," Khaila began. As she said this, both Sonelle and Brittany leaned forward in there seats listening intently to whether or not Khaila had been pregnant.
Khaila took a deep breath watching their anxious and curious faces. "I took the pregnancy test today," she spoke, her voice already starting to give a slight crack. At this, Punk had held her closer to him. Khaila could feel her body trembling as tears rolled out onto her cheeks. By now, Punk's, Sonelle's and Brittany's hearts had all been thumping rather fast and hard against their chests as they waited for Khaila to reveal the answer to the question she'd been asking for what seemed like forever, Was she pregnant?
Punk soothingly rubbed her arm; looking up at Punk, then at Brittany and then at Sonelle, Khaila gnawed on her bottom lip before uncurling her fingers from the fist it had been in, revealing the pregnancy test with two lines on its reading. Her onlookers' eyes widened as they took note of the reading on the pregnancy test; Khaila whispered, "I'm pregnant." The onlookers watched curiously at Khaila's expression before they made any sudden reaction. Khaila looked up at Punk with a smile cracking itself on her face. "We're going to have a baby," she whispered to him, choking on her tears a bit.
Punk, himself, let a small smile ease its way onto his face as he crashed his lips against hers. Brittany and Sonelle let out jubilant shrieks. With Brittany and Sonelle talking excitedly about things such as: the different names of the baby, if it were a boy, if it were a girl, and how they'd be wonderful aunts to the baby, Punk merely leaned his forehead against Khaila's, staring straight into her eyes, and whispered, "Yes, we are."
Several days had passed, yet, Cody had continued to have that strange, peculiar dream about the burning house and Amelia. He'd realized it had simply been symbolizing what he'd thought about the whole affair between Amelia and Punk- that Punk had stolen Amelia from him, that he destroyed their relationship which ultimately meant everything to Cody. Figuring that since he'd realized all of this, he was sure it would stop, but as the days rolled passed. He continued to dream of the destruction of everything he'd once had. If that hadn't been strange enough for him, he'd also noticed Layla acting a bit differently towards him ever since she returned and found out he was single again. She would always bump into him whenever they were backstage, she'd always happen to be somewhere around his locker room just before his match was about to take place, and he could swear he heard her mention his name to a couple of her friends backstage (this was always followed by a giggle, he noted).
Cody had done his best to ignore all of it, simply dismissing it as her 'post-break-up-feelings'. In a matter of months, she'd be completely over him. No doubt about that. Cody had sat himself in his suite one day, flipping through the channels ever so bored. Propping his head up with his hand that rested itself on the arm of the couch, Cody's eyes drowsily watched the T.V. With his finger involuntarily flicking the 'up' button for the channels on the T.V. remote, Cody allowed his mind to drift. He still had some questions he needed to be answered. Apart from all the strange happenings with his dreams and Layla, he still hadn't figured out whether or not he truly loved Amelia or if he were mad at her. He knew that she must've had some part in the whole affair be it willingly or not; she still had the choice to stop all of it. Why hadn't she? She was so special, Cody thought to himself. Quirky but special, he thought once more, a smile now starting to sprawl on his face as he remembered Amelia's clumsiness being the way they'd met in the first place.
His dad seemed to have approved of her. The entire point of Cody being gone with his father that day that Amelia had gone over to Sonelle's suite, was revealed to be because the WWE legend had wanted to have a bit of a talk with his son while they shopped around a bit. They talked 'guy-stuff' for a while including sports, the company, and finally, girls. Cody was shocked and a bit uncomfortable talking about this aspect with his dad especially since his previous girlfriends weren't exactly the types you'd bring home to meet the family. As their conversation progressed, however, Dusty Rhodes had brought up Amelia. Having seen Cody smile at the sound of her name, he said nothing but, "She a keeper, understand me? Don't lose her, Cody." Cody couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the fact that his dad was giving him advice on his relationship with a girl the legend had only met once.
Nevertheless, Cody muttered, "I wouldn't want to."
In retrospect, at that moment, he really felt Amelia and him had something special. He'd naively believed that the only thing that would maybe take a toll on them was the travelling. Boy, was he way off. Although what had happened with Amelia and Punk had angered him and upset him, it didn't change the way he felt about her. She was still very special to him, and he hated this feeling. He hated the fact that he loved a girl that cheated on him, and that he still does now. He'd constantly thought of whether or not he'd accept her back if she'd asked. Each time, he would answer yes. Cody sighed. Perhaps, just like Layla, he needed time; time away from her, like he was getting right now, time to think about the situation, and to realize that Amelia truly wasn't that special. Time and time again, he'd tried to place these thoughts in his mind so as to somewhat force himself to think like this from now on; however, as it always proved, this helped not. He'd still loved Amelia. He wanted to hold her, to care for her again just as he'd done before. He wanted to simply ignore the past and accept her back into his life. He missed the scent of her long, wavy, red hair; the way her grey/green eyes had shone brilliantly, especially when looking into his; the way the moonlight hit her porcelain coloured skin perfectly; or the way her quirks and clumsiness seemed to add to her beauty, effortlessly.
Just as he was about to continue his list, a knock had sounded at the door. The sound had startled Cody back into the reality. Standing up, Cody had seized the handle of the door. Swinging it open, he stared at a rather short, mouse-brown haired (though, it hadn't hung over her shoulders as it used to, it was pinned up into a neat bun) woman wearing a slimming strapless black dress. "Hello," Cody said trying to make sense of all of … this. Layla's cheeks blushed a bit.
"Hi, I um … I hope I'm not being too forward, but a couple of us are going down to a club; would you like to join us," Layla asked as she shifted her hips a bit. Cody opened his mouth, about to decline the invitation, when he'd realized something. Maybe this was what he needed to forget about Amelia. Just one night out. That was all. What could possibly happen?
"I'll be back in a second; would you like to come in," Cody asked as he stepped aside. Layla smiled and stepped in, seating herself on the couch. Cody walked into the bedroom and closed the door, changing into some party-going attire. As he did so, his mind set itself adrift once more; however, it hadn't gone to its usual place of contemplating strange happenings or dreams. Instead, it led itself excitedly along the path of wondering what other plans Layla and her company had in store for themselves tonight. Thoughts of dancing and drinking and dining flashed through his mind, and in a few minutes, both he and Layla had departed from the hotel only to have returned several hours later passionately lip-locked. The two headed for the bedroom, and in a moment's notice, clothes were scattered all over the floor and the two lay beneath the sheets. That night, for the first time in weeks, Cody had drifted off to sleep without a single thought of the affair, the dream or Amelia in his head.