“I don’t want to be married, and I especially don’t want to be married to her. Hell, I’m not even sure I want kids, Dad. For fuck’s sake, I am only twenty-four years old.”
“Did you have sex with her?”
“I used a condom.” I did not enlighten him to how many times Alexandria and I had been together, as this would have sealed the deal in his mind.
“Condoms break.”
“I would have known if it broke.” At least, I think I would have known. Isn’t it obvious if there’s a gaping hole at the end of a rubber?
“Maybe, maybe not,” he replied, “All I am saying is, if you are the father, make the most of the situation. Being Sterling Gibson’s son-in-law is not a bad person to be, Caswell.”
It is for me, I thought, but did not say out loud. All my father could see were dollar signs. Forget about shit like happiness and well-being. I gave my mom a kiss on the way out the door. There was only so much of my father I could handle.
Alexandria called me to ask for a sample for a paternity test a month later. I had begun to think she’d given up and found another scapegoat. Needless to say, her call put me in a shitty mood. For the next twelve days I was on pins and needles. I knew there was no possible way the kid was mine, but…what if I was wrong? The thought of being strapped to that woman for the rest of my days made me physically sick. On day twelve, as I sat at my desk, Alexandria waltzed into my office and slapped down proof of paternity. My worst nightmare had come true.
“Congratulations, Caswell. You are going to be a father. Oh, and by the way, we are having a son.”
I married Alexandria Gibson in a small chapel on the beach in Wilmington, North Carolina one month later. At my insistence, the guest list was limited to fifty people. Both my parents were over the moon about it. Not only were they now connected with one of the richest families in North Carolina, they were connected by blood. The only people who knew how I felt about Alexandria, other than both of our fathers, were Bobby and my younger sister, Melissa. Everyone else believed Xandria’s fairy tale lie about how I whisked her off her feet and begged her to be mine forever. I found myself completely trapped in a helpless situation and there was not a damn thing I could do to change it. At the ripe old age of twenty-four, I had become a husband and a father.
Reality of my newfound situation hit home on my wedding night. I had arranged for a two room suite for the evening as, wedding night or not, I had no intention of sleeping in the same room as my new wife. When Xandria showed up in my doorway with nothing on but a white see-through negligee, my mind said no, but my traitorous cock said…why not? We were both victims of seriously shitty circumstances. Why shouldn’t I try to get some enjoyment along the way?
“Just pretend she’s someone else,” Bobby advised earlier that day.
That night I gave her what she needed and, believe it or not, got something in return. It was not the wild, raunchy sex we had the night our son was conceived, but more of a mutual agreement to make the most of the situation. There was no love, but there was respect and lust. I was pleasantly surprised at the protective feelings the pregnancy brought out in me. This was my child. I may not have planned it, but here we were. After sex, I waited for her to fall asleep before getting the hell out of there. I spent the rest of the night on the living room sofa. The next morning we both acted as if it never happened. This is how our marriage proceeded. We rarely had sex and, when we did, I made sure it was only that and nothing more.
With the help of my wife’s trust fund, we purchased a four bedroom house right off the beach. I immediately had a top of the line security system installed, as well as top and bottom locks on the French doors leading out to the pool. At that point in her pregnancy, Xandria was too big and uncomfortable to hit me up
“Did you have sex with her?”
“I used a condom.” I did not enlighten him to how many times Alexandria and I had been together, as this would have sealed the deal in his mind.
“Condoms break.”
“I would have known if it broke.” At least, I think I would have known. Isn’t it obvious if there’s a gaping hole at the end of a rubber?
“Maybe, maybe not,” he replied, “All I am saying is, if you are the father, make the most of the situation. Being Sterling Gibson’s son-in-law is not a bad person to be, Caswell.”
It is for me, I thought, but did not say out loud. All my father could see were dollar signs. Forget about shit like happiness and well-being. I gave my mom a kiss on the way out the door. There was only so much of my father I could handle.
Alexandria called me to ask for a sample for a paternity test a month later. I had begun to think she’d given up and found another scapegoat. Needless to say, her call put me in a shitty mood. For the next twelve days I was on pins and needles. I knew there was no possible way the kid was mine, but…what if I was wrong? The thought of being strapped to that woman for the rest of my days made me physically sick. On day twelve, as I sat at my desk, Alexandria waltzed into my office and slapped down proof of paternity. My worst nightmare had come true.
“Congratulations, Caswell. You are going to be a father. Oh, and by the way, we are having a son.”
I married Alexandria Gibson in a small chapel on the beach in Wilmington, North Carolina one month later. At my insistence, the guest list was limited to fifty people. Both my parents were over the moon about it. Not only were they now connected with one of the richest families in North Carolina, they were connected by blood. The only people who knew how I felt about Alexandria, other than both of our fathers, were Bobby and my younger sister, Melissa. Everyone else believed Xandria’s fairy tale lie about how I whisked her off her feet and begged her to be mine forever. I found myself completely trapped in a helpless situation and there was not a damn thing I could do to change it. At the ripe old age of twenty-four, I had become a husband and a father.
Reality of my newfound situation hit home on my wedding night. I had arranged for a two room suite for the evening as, wedding night or not, I had no intention of sleeping in the same room as my new wife. When Xandria showed up in my doorway with nothing on but a white see-through negligee, my mind said no, but my traitorous cock said…why not? We were both victims of seriously shitty circumstances. Why shouldn’t I try to get some enjoyment along the way?
“Just pretend she’s someone else,” Bobby advised earlier that day.
That night I gave her what she needed and, believe it or not, got something in return. It was not the wild, raunchy sex we had the night our son was conceived, but more of a mutual agreement to make the most of the situation. There was no love, but there was respect and lust. I was pleasantly surprised at the protective feelings the pregnancy brought out in me. This was my child. I may not have planned it, but here we were. After sex, I waited for her to fall asleep before getting the hell out of there. I spent the rest of the night on the living room sofa. The next morning we both acted as if it never happened. This is how our marriage proceeded. We rarely had sex and, when we did, I made sure it was only that and nothing more.
With the help of my wife’s trust fund, we purchased a four bedroom house right off the beach. I immediately had a top of the line security system installed, as well as top and bottom locks on the French doors leading out to the pool. At that point in her pregnancy, Xandria was too big and uncomfortable to hit me up
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