“Zara?” a voice calls. I look up and there he is. Malik. Towering as usual.Why every man mi deh wid affi tall so?my subconscious whispers. His eyes drop to my stomach, then snap back up to my face. That’s when I see it, tight jaw, clenched fists. He’s upset. Real upset.
“Wah this?” he asks, staring at my bump like it’s personal. Wah him mean wah this? My anger rises instantly.
“Wah yuh mean wah this?” I snap, already heated.
“Who breed you?” he demands. I take a step back, giving myself enough distance to really look at him. Him brite eeh?Zara, switch roles! Switch roles!
“Mi man,” I answer, sharp and proud. His brows shoot up and honestly, mine nearly do too.Yessss!my subconscious cheers. He steps closer, trying that same old intimidation trick. I step forward too.Zara? A you dis?And don’t get it twisted, Nickoi is not even here. It’s not his presence giving me courage. Zanne was with me, but she went to Starbucks for coffee. I’m alone. No backup. No boys posted up outside. Just me. But mi hot. And Malik? He’s triggering every part of me.
“Mi wah yuh come outta mi way, enuh,” I say firmly. “Mi nah explain miself and mi nah argue.”No man a who deh bad gyal ya?He leans in more, voice raising.
“Mi ask you a question!?”
“Malik, don’t raise yuh voice at me, and come outta mi face,” I say, staring him dead in the eye. A come gwaan like him own me… or him affi know who I’m pregnant for. Upsetting.
“Right now,” I add. He doesn’t move. So mi push past him. Aggressively. Yup, I push him out of my way and keep walking.No man… Zara, we really switch roles!I make it outside and slide into the back of Zanne’s car, waiting. Through the window, I see Malik walk out of the gym and head toward the bank. I roll my eyes. Typical. Mi hate him, I think bitterly. All mi ever wanted was to be taken seriously. To be loved. But he couldn’t even give me that. Now mi happy, mi pregnant, mi glowing and him want come disturb my peace? Nah. If I saw him with a new woman, mi would a walk past. No staring, no drama. Just respect. It’s not even about love anymore. It’s about respect. I rub my belly, exhaling.Stinking bwoy.
A few minutes later, Suzanne returns, coffee in one hand and a milkshake in the other. “After mi buy the coffee, mi go inna theplace fi this, and the line long yuh fret,” she says, annoyed. I smile, taking the milkshake from her.
“Thanks, sis.”
“Always,” she says, easing into the driver’s seat. I asked her earlier to drop me by Mama’s, and it’s no trouble, she only live a few blocks down. When we pull up, I hop out with a smile.
“Thanks for the drive bubby,” I grin. “Today was really nice.”
“Always a blast with you, girl. Definitely doing it again,” she replies.
“Definitely,” I say again, walking up to Mama’s gate. She’s out on the veranda with her church sister, Mrs. Andrea. I greet them the second I step up onto the tiles.
“Good day, Zara,” Mama beams.
“Wow, what a sweet bump,” Mrs. Andrea says warmly.
I smile. “Thank you.”
“So wah gwaan?” Mama asks, eyes twinkling.
I settle beside them. “Mi have a long day, but mi miss yuh… so mi come check yuh.” Mrs. Andrea smiles.
“Aww,yuh ever love yuh granny.” I nod because truth is, I do.
“A mi gyal dat,” Mama says, proud. About half an hour in, Mama starts recounting yesterday’s gender reveal like it’s a whole movie. Her storytelling sweet, man. I was there and mi still entertained.
Mrs. Andrea gasps, “Is a girl?”
Mama nods. I smile as Andrea turns to me.
“Congrats, love.”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“You’re like… eight months?” she guesses. I laugh, shaking my head.
“Five.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? Five months?”
Mama laughs too. “She halfway.”
