I shake my head, smile growing. I walk over to him, ignoring the soreness in my thighs, trying not to limp. He’s already setting everything up, moving with that quiet energy that always makes me watch him.
While he works, my mind drifts to one thing. Liquor.
Doh even talk ’bout liquor!
“This is a good idea enuh, but the only thing is… mi nah go can drink,” I pout, looking at him.
He furrows his brows. “Mi mean like champagne,” I add, quickly.
He grins. “Mi buy sparkling wine fi yuh. It nah go harm the baby.”
I light up. “Yuh sure?” I ask.
He nods, confident. “It nuh have much alcohol. And yuh only a drink it once, cause mi nah mek yuh drink again till yuh have mi youth.”
“Okay Mr. Jacobs.” I grin, biting my lip. He bites his in return, clearly liking the sound of that.
“So what you having? The usual?” I ask, changing the subject.
He smirks. “Henny, of course.”
He chuckles and walks off. “Mi a go get them and fawud. Yuh can gwan do yuh thing.” Once he’s gone, I slip out of the robe, wince slightly, and step into the Jacuzzi. The warm water wraps around me like a hug, easing the soreness from earlier.
Nobody cyaa brite and seh yuh nah live good.
He returns moments later, placing two bottles in the holder, one Hennessy, one sparkling wine. He sets two glasses down before he gets in and pull me against him. I relax, head on his chest. His arms are around me, hands resting on my breast, his thumb strokes gently, not sexual, just… him. Ever since I moved in, that’s how he is. Every morning. Every night. Hand tucked in my bra’ like it’s part of his breathing. I glance down at his wrist that weird ring he always wore glinting under the soft lights, then my stomach, my thoughts drift.Soon you’ll be here with Mommy and Daddy.I smile. I can’t wait to meet you.
Nickoi’s sipping his Hennessy with one hand, still palming me with the other. I look at him, focused and silent. Present, but somewhere in his mind too.
“Daddy?” I tease. He looks at me sideways.
“What kinda baby yuh think mi a have?” I ask.
“Boy.” I knew he would say that.
I laugh. “It’s gonna be a girl though, just watch.”
He chuckles and takes another sip, eyes closing. I study his face, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the quiet structure that makes him effortlessly fine. “Stop look pan man,” he says, eyes still closed.
I laugh. “Can’t take yuh enuh.”
“What did you wanna be when you were little?” I ask. The shift is instant. His expression darkens, subtle but real. Like mi touch pan something him nuh like.
“Never really have a childhood fi think like dat,” he says, eyes low. “Dem time deh, mi did just wah learn the ropes of the business. Know how fi fire the guns.” I sigh. My heart tightens. I hate how they robbed him of innocence.
“Why yuh father bring yuh inna dis life… Yuh neva ask fi it,” I hiss.
“We nuh get wah we want in life,” he replies. “And if we do, it nuh stay long.”
Wah him a talk ‘bout now?
“What you trying to say?” I ask, voice quiet.
He doesn’t answer. “A neva me yuh want? A nuh me yuh get and a nuh me still deh yah?” I ask, attitude bubbling.
He’s still silent. The mood crashes. The warmth of the moment gone. He’s just swirling the Henny in his glass, eyes ice cold. Detached. Swear mi hate this about him.
“What?” I whisper.
