Such a thugged out and unapologetic man but soft for me. He whispered nothing but words of assurance in my ear the entire time. He was everything you’d read about in the urban fiction romances. I never thought I’d end up with one of my own.
“I ain’t know you fucked with me like that but keep pushing, Brat. Y’all a nigga reason to live now lil’ do you know. A hell of a reason, Ma.” I felt sincerity in each word he spoke.
“One more big push, Cheyonne. You got this. His head is out, just finish it up for me,” Dr. Bloom coached.
“You heard her. One more baby,” he instructed while softly pecking my face.
I inhaled deeply and pushed one final time giving it my all. As soon as he was out, I felt so much lighter in my pelvic area. It was like she pulled a damn weight out of me. Malachi’s cries filled the room as tears raced down my face. Black released my hand for a brief moment and that was to cut the cord. He was back like he never left seconds later.
I did it. I had a baby.
My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath and process what happened. Black was so concerned with me he didn’t move until I told him to. It was like he cared about me and my health more than our son. I loved that but Malachi was more important than I was. I had Toneshia or my mother that could hold my hand from here on out. I needed him with our son.
“Go be with him, Black,” I said pushing him away.
“I ain’t leaving yo’ side, Brat.”
“I have my mother and my best friend. Go make sure he’s alright, Black… please,” I begged.
“Aight, aight. What’s his name?” he asked looking toward our new addition.
“Malachi. Malachi Afor Atkins.”
He stepped away and my mother stepped in. She was by my side holding my hand much like he did. She had a face full of tears as well, so she was really no good, either. I was her only child and somehow I was able to give her, her first grandchild. This was a significant moment for everyone in this room. I pushed out my placenta shortly after leaving me to enter the recovery stage.
“Are you okay baby? Are you hurting anywhere? How you feel? Did he say anything to you? Why is he here, Che-Che?” My mother started out with questions regarding me before they shifted to inquiries about Black. I knew they were coming sooner than later.
“Mama please. I’m good and he did everything to keep me calm. Don’t judge him before knowing him.”
“It’s a little too late for that. He was judged the minute he put a gun to your head.”
“If you and Dad are going to do this the whole time, just go, Mama. I had a baby. Your grandson who I’d like you and Dad to meet. Play nice so you can. I want all of you here but if I’m left with an ultimatum, I’m choosing where my heart lies and that’swith him,” I admitted. She threw her hands up throwing in the towel.
Black walked back with our son wrapped up and in his arms. I couldn’t deny how good he looked in daddy mode. He was already a fine ass nigga but being a father turned that aura up a few notches. I smiled when he placed Malachi on my chest. He was so beautiful and looked everything like his father.
“Yo’ weak ass genes,” Black jested.
“Blame that on Obasi. I look nothing like him but everything my mother. I’m glad he took after you though. If you weren’t here, he would’ve been a steady reminder of that bittersweet night,” I chimed.
“Obasi, that’s yo’ pops?” I nodded to his question. He then pointed at my mother and asked, “What’s yo’ mama name?”
“Chinara. I’m Nigerian American, but they’re straight from the motherland. I’m their only child,” I answered.
“Cool. That’s Nesh, right?” He pointed to my best friend in the back.
“How you know?” I asked with dipped brows. He said her name like he knew her.
“I’m guessing she’s who you called that day after the shower.”
It had been months since I saw him. Nine to be exact and he remembered every detail about the time we spent together. He was smarter than one would assume. Thinking he was a just a thug with little education would show how foolish you were quicker than it would him. He was calculated and capable of doing things young men his age couldn’t. Nothing about him was normal.
“It is. She’s a best friend that’s more like a sister. She knows all about us. Switch gears for me though. Do you think you can have a conversation with my father? Y’all are two people of importance to me.” I was begging but knowing Black, he’d decline. If he didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t.
“He look like he want to knock my block off, Brat. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I like to lay hands on niggas,” he threw back.
“I’ve asked him to be nice, so I’m asking you to do the same. Dad, come here for a second,” I said calling him over.
The room was starting to clear out, so the chaos was calming down as time passed on. My father took that stroll stopping beside my mother. He eyed Black like he was the plague. All Black could do was laugh and look my way. That was him warning me to keep the distance between us.
