Camille blinked. “What?”
“I said congratulations. Having a baby is a beautiful thing. Mazel tov. You want a cigar?”
“Quest, I know you don’t want kids, but we’re gonna have a baby.” She stepped closer, reaching for my arm. “I know this isn’t what we planned, but?—”
I pulled away before she could touch me. “Nah, see, that’s where you got it twisted. YOU’RE gonna have a baby. Not we. You.”
Her face crumpled in confusion. “What are you talking about? You helped me create this baby. I know it was an accident, but?—”
“Impossible.”
The word cut through her bullshit like a knife.
She froze. “What?”
I set my glass down on the bar, slow and deliberate, then turned to face her fully. Let her see the cold in my eyes, the complete absence of the warmth she was used to.
“I got a vasectomy a couple years before we even met,” I said, enunciating each word clearly so there’d be no misunderstanding. “Shooting blanks, baby. Have been for a minute now. So unless you’re carrying the second coming of Christ, that baby ain’t mine.”
The color drained from her face.
“Also,” I continued, “you were supposed to have an IUD. Remember? That was the agreement. You, me, and Lyric—nobody trying to have kids. We discussed this extensively. So either your IUD failed spectacularly AND my vasectomy reversed itself by magic…” I tilted my head, watching her squirm. “Or you been letting some other nigga hit raw.”
“Quest—”
“So tell me the truth, Camille.” I stepped closer, my voice dropping to something dangerous. “Who you been fucking?”
She broke.
The tears came fast and ugly, her whole body shaking with sobs as she covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between gasps. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just—I wanted a baby so bad, and you didn’t want kids, and I thought maybe if I just?—”
“You thought maybe if you just went and fucked somebody else behind my back, you could trap me into raising another man’s child?” I laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “That’s diabolical. I’m almost impressed.”
“It wasn’t like that!”
“Then what was it like? Enlighten me.”
“I just… I wanted to be a mother. So badly. And you made it clear that wasn’t something you wanted, and I thought… I thought maybe if I got pregnant, you’d change your mind. You’d see the baby and fall in love and?—”
“And what? Play daddy to some random nigga’s kid while he laughs at me behind my back?” I shook my head slowly. “Youreally thought that was gonna work? You really thought I was that stupid?”
“I love you, Quest. I made a mistake, but I love you?—”
“Save it.” I held up my hand, cutting her off. “I don’t care who he is. I don’t care how it happened. I don’t care about your excuses or your apologies or your tears. We’re done. Whatever this was—it’s over. Get your shit and get out.”
“Quest, please?—”
“Did I stutter?” My voice bounced off the walls, sharp enough to make her stumble backward. “Pack your shit. Tonight. I’ll have someone send you whatever you leave behind.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. Go stay with your baby daddy. Go stay with your mama. Go stay at the fucking Ritz Carlton—I’ll even pay for the first night since I’m feeling generous. But you ain’t staying here.”
She was full-on sobbing now, mascara running down her cheeks, snot dripping from her nose. A whole mess of a woman standing in the middle of my living room.
And I felt nothing.
“I’ll send you a gift card to Babies R Us or something,” I added. “For the baby shower.”
