“What’s good,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat. The leather was warm from the sun. Quest had the AC blasting and some J. Cole playing low through the speakers.
“What’s good.” He pulled off without looking at me.
We rode in silence for a few minutes, weaving through airport traffic. That wasn’t like Quest. Usually this nigga was running his mouth before I even got my seatbelt clicked. Cracking jokes, talking shit about my outfit, asking if the plane food gave me gas. Something.
But right now? Nothing. Just his hands on the wheel and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
“Aight.” I turned in my seat to face him fully. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just exhaled—long, slow, heavy—like he’d been holding his breath for days.
“Camille’s pregnant.”
I blinked. Wasn’t expecting that. “Damn. Okay. Congratulations…?”
“It ain’t mine.”
“What?”
“I got a vasectomy years ago, Prime. Before I even met her ass.” He laughed, but it was bitter as black coffee. “She cheated. Got knocked up by some random nigga. Then had the audacity—the unmitigated gall—to sit in my living room and tell me ‘we’re gonna have a baby.’ Like I’m stupid. Like I don’t know my own body.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Crazy ain’t even the word. That’s diabolical. That’s supervillain behavior.” He shook his head, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I threw her ass out. Same night. Made her take all her shit and everything.”
My first thought—the only thought that mattered to me—came flying out before I could catch it. “She bet’ not fuck up Zainab’s case.”
Quest cut his eyes at me so hard I felt it in my chest. “Really, nigga? That’s the first thing out your mouth? I just told you my girl tried to trap me with another man’s baby and your concern is?—”
“Nah, you right.” I held up my hands. “That was some selfish shit. My bad. For real.”
Quest’s whole face changed. Like I’d just told him I saw a unicorn outside the window.
“Hold up. Did you just… apologize? Without nobody making you? Without Zainab giving you that look?”
“Man, fuck you.”
He burst out laughing—a real one this time, loud and surprised. “Nah, nah, I’m just saying! This is growth! Old Prime would’ve doubled down. Would’ve said ‘yeah, and what about it?’ But look at you, apologizing and shit. Acknowledging other people’s feelings.” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “My baby brother is becoming a real human being.”
“I will crash this car.”
“It’s my car.”
“And?”
He was still grinning, but it faded as he merged onto the highway. “Nah, but for real though. I appreciate that. The apology. It means something.”
“So how you really feeling about it?” I asked, serious now. “The cheating. The baby. All of it.”
Quest was quiet for a minute. The cityscape rolled by outside—monuments and memorials, all that DC bullshit I never cared about. Finally, he spoke.
“My ego is bruised. I ain’t gonna front. Finding out she cheated? That stung. I’m Quest motherfucking Banks. Women don’t cheat on me—I’m the one who—” He stopped himself, shook his head. “Whatever. That’s my pride talking. The real issue is the betrayal. She looked me in my face and tried to make me raise another man’s seed. That’s a level of disrespect I can’t get past.”
“You ever want kids though? Like, for real?”
His jaw tightened again. “Nah. You know what happened. That door is closed for me. Permanently.”
I did know. We didn’t talk about it—ever—but I knew.
