The Love of Lies

Cookies

Ashton’s POV

I walk into my father’s study where the scent of alcohol is strong in the air, making me feel like the worst son ever. He's sick, and drinking isn't good for his recovery.

"Dad, I can explain."

"You don't have to; I heard all I need to know."

"Dad I-"

"Ashton, stop talking. Right now, you're going to listen in silence." I nod, understanding that my father is beyond pissed. “You and Cori are going to attend the Wayly event as a couple, you’re going to smile together, take pictures together; all to show the board that you aren't randomly sticking your d*ck in women and making legal liabilities all over the city."

"What the hell did she tell you?" I question, not understanding how things went from keeping Cori a secret to going public.

"Does it matter? You went to a party and declared Cori the mother of your unborn child. Do you really think that wouldn't have gotten to me?" My nose flares in anger, but before I can go curse Cori out, my father stops me, telling me that my mother took her dress shopping.

"She doesn't need a dress. We aren't going anywhere together."

"Ashton, you are my son, and I love you, but if you don't shut the f*ck up and do what I ask, I have another son who is just as educated to take your place."

"Troy won't last a minute in my shoes."

"Probably not, but he will at least listen, and with Julia by his side, he will be fine."

"Do you know what showing up to that event with Cori would mean? If her baby isn't mine, I'll look like a fool."

"And if the baby is yours, you'll look like an even bigger fool when everyone finds out what kind of man you are." My father takes a slow drink from his glass, breathing deeply as though he's reflecting on where he went wrong in raising me. "Now you can leave my office, and I don't want to see or hear from you for the rest of the day."

I hate that my relationship with my father has gotten to this point, and although the man told me that Cori was gone, I find myself wanting to make sure, not trusting my family to tell me the truth concerning the woman, but just like they said, she isn’t in the guestroom of the house she’s staying in.

I notice that the girl's laptop is sitting on a small desk my mother must have put in the room for her, and I approach, cautiously hitting a key to reveal that she was reading an eBook on the device.

I sit, realizing at once that it's a pregnancy guide, and beside me, are handwritten notes the woman has made.

[Goal: Drink three Liters of water daily]

[Get ten hours of sleep.]

[Take regular walks.]

[Minimize stress at Ashton’s house.]

[Plan: Find a way to set drink reminders at work.]

[Cook on my days off to avoid losing sleep while preparing meals.]

[Explore the neighborhood with Mr. and Mrs. Lewis.]

[Stay in the guestroom as much as possible.]

I feel bad reading what the woman wrote, but I’m more concerned with why she has a laptop, but then I notice that she isn’t connected to an internet source, meaning that she purchased and downloaded this book before she moved in.

I stand, making sure that everything is the way it was before exiting the room, but I don’t plan to leave just yet. I want to know what Cori told my father because his anger seems one sided, and there was no mention of Vanessa’s role at all.

Cori’s POV

I don’t know why this family is doing this to me, but just as I was starting to feel comfortable, I now want the ground to swallow me whole. Mr. Lewis TOLD me that I HAD to attend some random event with his family in the next few days, but all I want to do is sleep.

I work, and I have to be able to save during this period, but it's like talking to a brick wall when I tell these people how I feel, specifically because they think that I’ll be staying with them indefinitely, but that’s not going to happen.

I want to date, I want to fall in love, and I want to get married, so living as Ashton’s accidental ‘baby momma’ for the rest of my life is not an option. Besides that, any man who could plan to ‘share’ someone is not a man I want to be associated with, not even by the ties of a baby, and while I can’t change that, I do have control over how much he and I have to interact with one another.

“Cori, can you come out so that we can see you?” Mrs. Lewis is a kind woman, but I’m convinced that her kindness is rooted in evil.

She knows I don’t want to go anywhere, yet she didn’t even let me finish crying before dragging me dress shopping with Julia and Troy.

I step out of the fitting room, and the woman approves yet another dress, while the boutique’s hostess brings me another.

Ten dresses later, and Jules finally steps in and stops her mother-in-law from having me try on yet another thing.

“Mom, Cori must be exhausted already. Let's just go with what we have.” The woman looks at me in guilt, standing and hugging me before stepping away.

“I’m sorry dear, you look pretty in everything you put on, but I want you to look your best at Wayly, and I don’t feel like any of those dresses captured how truly gorgeous you are.”

“I can always stay behind,” I add, hoping that the woman’s guilt is at its peak, but she taps my cheek with a smile that’s more of a warning.

“Nice try sweetheart, but whatever happened at that baby shower has grown bigger than you or Ashton. If I had known that was going to happen, I would have allowed you to stay home.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, you know?”

“Of course sweety, Julia told me exactly what happened, but a very influential person was offended, and we have to go on the offensive.”

“But why do I have to be there?”

“Because Ashton decided it was a good idea to tell a group of blabbermouths that you were pregnant, and he was the father.” I cover my face in mortification, forgetting that the man said that. “No need to be embarrassed of the truth.”

“Mrs. Lewis, this is a lot for me to handle and I would really like it if we didn’t refer to Ashton as the father of my child. I think it sets unclear boundaries between us, and-”

“Cori, whatever word game you think you’re about to play with me, stop it. I don’t know much about you, so I don’t want to presume, but I’m fairly certain that if there was another potential father, Gregory wouldn’t have taken your case.” I massage my temples and my stomach growls, prompting Mrs. Lewis to dig into her bag and pull out a trail mix bar. “A few more dresses and I’ll take you to the place where I bought those cookies.”

The greed in me accepts the offer, and finally, the woman is elated with something I put on my body. Poor Troy ends up lugging more dresses than I feel he could handle, but the second I tried to help, I was yelled at.

“It’s not like I’m lifting weights,” I quip, earning myself a scowl.

“You’ve already been overworking yourself, and although you claim that you aren’t hurt, you’re limping. The only reason I haven’t put you on bedrest myself is because I value your diligence.”

I didn’t believe it before, but now I can totally see the woman putting a treadmill in the kitchen; she’s a control freak.

“Also, I would like it if you allowed Ashton or myself to accompany you to your next appointment so that either of us can get an idea of what's going on with the baby.” I nod numbly, climbing into the car where I feel trapped again. “I know this may be hard for you, but it's only temporary.” I nod again, not really in the mood to talk. “Have you thought of a name?” The woman suddenly asks, actually catching my attention.

“I was thinking that I would name a girl Lori like my mother.”

“That would be sweet, and if you have a boy?” I shake my head in the negative because I haven’t thought of a single boy's name, and out of nowhere, Julia stabs me in the back.

“You could name a boy Ashton to keep the chain going.”

“NO!” I say a little more loudly than I meant to, realizing a little too late that I was being mocked. “That was not a funny joke.” I sink into my seat and Mrs. Lewis pats my leg.

“Cori, I really like you,” the woman says.

Ashton’s POV

They are taking forever to come back, and when Cori finally enters the house, she does so limping, which almost makes me want to leave her alone… almost.

“What the hell did you tell my father?”

“Ashton, leave me alone. I’m tired, and all I want to do right now is relax and eat my cookies.” My eyes glance to the box in the girl's hand and I angrily snatch it, not expecting her to try and pull them away from me.

Every cookie in the box crumpled to the ground and the silence between us became deafening.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I say, which is the truth. I wanted to hold the cookies hostage until the woman spoke to me, but I didn’t realize that the box was already opened.

Cori doesn’t even look at me before she locks herself in her room, and I turn to see Julia staring at me with wide eyes.

“You did not just do that to her.”

“I’ll go buy more,” I offer, checking the time on my watch. “I didn’t think that would hap-” I’m cut off by my brother, who spots the cookies on the floor and the box in my hands.

“I know this looks bad, but it's really not what I meant to do at all.”

“Bro, you need to leave.” I can’t believe that my own brother has sided with a woman who he barely knows without even hearing my side of the story, but then again, does he really need to?

I shouldn’t even have touched the cookies, and I really hope these aren’t the ones the girl cried over in the past, but since luck seems to be against me, they probably are.

“I really didn’t-”

“Cori sweety, are you coming for din-” My mother who was unaware of the situation was still speaking jovially until she stumbled upon me standing with an empty box of Cori’s cookies.

The woman pulls out her phone and texts something, making me think that she’s telling my father.

“That bakery is forty-five minutes away and they close in the next hour. Get there, or don’t come back to this house.”

I didn’t even argue, I just ran out of the house, desperate to not look like a natural born pen*s, and I got there just as they were locking the doors.

“Please, I have a pregnant woman waiting for me at home.” The clerk looks annoyed, but she lets me in, and because I don’t know what to get I… “Give me all the cookies you have.”

“All of them?” The woman questions, looking at me in confusion, and even I have to admit that it's a little extreme.

“Help me out here. How many cookies say, ‘I’m sorry?’”

“Well, that depends on what you did,” she replies.