I shook my head and kept scrolling. “Nah. What about ‘This Christmas’?”
“Mmm… Idolove Chris Brown in that movie.”
I looked over at her sideways. “Say that shit again, and I’m changin’ it to Die Hard.”
She burst out laughing. “You sound like somebody's uncle saying that’s a Christmas movie.”
“They had Christmas trees and shootouts. It counts.” We both cracked up.
Eventually, we settled on ‘This Christmas’, and Autumn stayed quiet through most of it until one scene popped off. Then, I felt her shift beside me, her body going still like she was thinking too hard.
“You good, gorgeous?” I asked, looking down at her.
She hesitated, then looked up at me. “Can I tell you something?”
I nodded, without missing a beat. “Anything.”
She stared at the flames for a second, like she was gathering the words from deep down. “I’m kinda scared of being a mom,” she finally said, her voice low. “Like… really scared. What if I fuck it up?”
That hit me harder than I expected. She kept going, zoned out, like she wasn’t even talking to me directly anymore. It was more like she was finally letting herself say this shit out loud.
“My mom has bipolar disorder,” she said softly. “Like the real kind… manic episodes, deep depressions, hospital stays. There’d be days she couldn’t get out of bed, and days she wouldn’t sleep at all and would be up at three in the morning cooking pancakes and singing Anita Baker like we were at a concert.”
She laughed a little, but there wasn’t shit funny about it.
“I never knew what version of her I was gonna get. One day she’d be loving and soft, and the next she’d be so gone I didn’t know if she even saw me. I stopped inviting friends over in middle school ‘cause I couldn’t predict her moods. Eventually, my friends pulled away because of the craziness.”
I reached for her hand, but I didn’t interrupt.
“My dad… he was the one who kept me grounded. Made sure I ate, got to school, and kept up with my grades. He taught me how to stay calm in chaos. But I saw it wear him down overtime. He loved her, but it was like loving her meant constantly bracing for the crash.”
Her voice cracked a little, and I tightened my grip on her hand.
“I always wanted kids, but it’s scary. I told myself that I didn’t wanna bring anybody into the world if I couldn’t promise them stability. But now I’m here, pregnant, and it’s real… and I just—” She took a breath. “I don’t wanna be my mom, Woods. I don’t wanna be unpredictable. I don’t wanna disappear into a version of myself and have my child wonder if I love them.”
I leaned in and kissed her forehead, slow and firm. “You’re not your mama, Autumn. You hear me?” She blinked at me, eyes glassy. “I don’t give a fuck what you came from. You got more awareness and love in you than most people raised in picture-perfect homes. You carry it like it’s your job to break every damn generational curse, and that right there? That’s what makes you a good mother already.”
She smiled, leaned in, and kissed me like she trusted me with everything inside her. Then, the damn doorbell rang and broke the moment.
I sighed, forehead against hers. “That’s probably the chef.”
Her eyebrows bunched together. “Chef?”
If o l l o w e db e h i n dWoods as he headed toward the front door, still feeling the lingering weight of everything I’d just told him. I didn’t even mean to say all of that shit, but he didn’t flinch or look at me like I was broken.
He didn’t rush to change the subject like people usually did when things got too real. He just listened and held space for me and my mess. That man made it so damn easy to open up; it was almost scary. Nothing about this felt forced. Nothing about us felt hard. It just flowed.
When he opened the door, a blast of cold air swept in with the snowflakes, but it didn’t last long. Standing there was a clean-cut, brown-skinned man with a black chef’s coat, leather gloves, and a smile like he already knew he was about to throw down.
“Woods?” he asked, holding onto an extra-large suitcase and a large canvas bag over one shoulder.
“What’s good?” Woods said, dapping him up.
The man nodded at me. “I’m Chef Cory. I’ll be takin’ care of y’all this evenin’.”
“Bet. Come on in.” As soon as he stepped inside, my stomach growled loud as hell. Woods turned to look at me, grinning. “Damn, baby. That shit came from your soul.”
I covered my face. “Shut up.”
