“You earned it.” I stood and stretched my arms. “We can call this night a wrap.”
Malik laughed. “Aight, nigga. I’m gone.”
We dapped each other up, and Kam walked him out, talking about locking the next session in soon. I grabbed my jacket and followed behind them.
On the drive home, I remembered thinking about how much those L.A. nights always tried to convince you that nothing bad could happen under those palm trees and string lights. The freeway was packed, and headlights shone bright like the sun reflecting off the beach at Santa Monica. Billboards flashed faces bigger than life and gave the impression that anyone could make it here. My life looked like success from the outside, but inside, I always felt like a storm I didn’t know how to name.
I’d been avoiding my phone, so it was on silent. I only happened to know that it rang again because my music paused, and my sister’s name flashed across the screen on the dashboard.
I wasn’t really in the mood, but I answered it anyway with a sigh. “What’s up, Ken?”
“Well, damn,” she said immediately. “Hi to you too, famous.”
I grunted. “What’s up?”
Her voice was bright in that way it always was when she was excited about something. “So, are you coming to Detroit, or are you sending a cardboard cutout to walk me down the aisle?”
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “Of course, I’m coming. Why you ask that?”
“Because.” She huffed. “I haven’t talked to you, or you haven’t talked to me about nothin’ wedding related. We have meetings, and Auntie Nita set up a website and?—”
“I know,” I cut in. I knew she was right. I hadn’t reached out and checked in on her as much as I felt I could have. “I know. I apologize. I just been . . . I’m listening now, sis. What you need from me?”
“Just you,” she said. “And your tux situation.”
I frowned. “My tux situation?”
“Yes,” she said. “Have you gotten fitted yet, or are you waiting until the last second like you do with everything?”
“I been busy, Ken. I just said I was sorry.”
“Busy doing what?” she said. “Rappin’? Being rich? Avoiding love?”
I chuckled a little at that one. On a good day, we would’ve joked back and forth about it. But the news that I had gotten had occupied my mind so much those days that I didn’t feel like my regular self. Kennedy must’ve noticed it because her tone shifted into something a little more compassionate.
“Okay. What’s wrong, Brother?”
I stared into the traffic that I sat in. The quiet in the car pressed between us.
“I got some . . . shit going on,” I admitted.
“What kind of shit?” she asked.
I hesitated. I knew she would press me further and wouldn’t let it go, so I took a deep breath and just let it roll out.
“Amora claiming she got a baby that might be mine.”
Another pause fell between us. Then, I heard her sigh.
“What is it with you and these women and these secret babies?”
I didn’t laugh. My voice came out drier than I meant it to. “This ain’t funny.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just . . . Damn, Zay.”
I swallowed. “I can’t go through this again.”
“You scared?”
