I watched her stand and do her best to quiet him, to no avail. Her words weighed heavily on me.All you tagged me in was being a single mother.She hadn’t even told me she was pregnant, let alone that she’d even given birth! I wanted to snap on her, cuss her ass out, and then leave and tell Kam not to delay in filing a restraining order on that crazy bitch, but . . . seeing her in that moment, rocking her son and speaking gently to him, I saw a different side of her.
I saw past the Instagram model, the TV personality with a pretty face, fat ass with the perfect titties. I saw a mother. I sawa woman who held her son with care, genuine concern, and fear for his future. With all the previous conversations we had about our fathers’ abandonment and the abuse I endured growing up, I understood something in that moment—something that was bigger than ego, bigger than image, bigger than whatever anger I held toward her. Zayn deserved more than that, regardless of whether he was mine or not. In that moment, I knew I needed to handle that right away.
I steadied my voice to sound as calm as I could. “I’m not here to fight you. I came here because . . . I wanted to see him. I need to know the truth.”
I swallowed and forced my shoulders down.
Amora’s gaze never left Zayn’s. I saw her lips tremble as she replied to me. “You, um . . . You want to hold him?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t held a baby in years, never even been close to one in so long. I tried to steady myself, as I wasn’t prepared for that moment.
“I don’t think that’s . . .” I paused and looked at Kam. He stared at me with his arms still folded, like he was waiting for me to take the lead. Since I had taken charge of the moment then, I understood he wanted me to continue. I shot him a smirk and dropped my head. I had been so adult just a moment ago, and now I was scared to hold a baby. I let out a quiet chuckle and shook my head.
“Yes, you can,” Amora shot back. “Just . . . just hold him.”
She stepped forward and placed the baby in my arms before I could talk myself—or her—out of it. I carefully took him. He was warm and heavy. The weight of him in my arms wasn’t just his little body. It felt like the weight of possibility, consequences, and a whole future I hadn’t planned for.
Zayn blinked up at me and stared like he recognized something. Or maybe I just projected because my heart felt toomuch. He made a small sound, and then his tiny fingers curled around my thumb. That made my heart crack open.
I stared down at him, and for a second, the room went quiet in my head. There was no music at that moment, no meetings, and no numbers.
I was just him and me.
Amora watched my face like she could read my thoughts. “You see it?” she asked quietly.
I didn’t answer her right away. I knew what she meant, but I couldn’t tell the difference. My immediate thought didn’t tell me that he was mine, but I saw the possibility. I wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but that was enough to scare me. I swallowed and finally looked up at her, unable to hide my anger any longer.
“You didn’t say anything to me,” I said, voice low. “You didn’t tell me you was even pregnant, and now you just pop up with a baby out of the blue and say that he’s mine? What type of time is you really on, Amora? You think I’m stupid? I’m not the only nigga you was fucking. Let’s be real. You can play that ‘good girl, I’m so hurt’ shit all you want to, but you know just like I do, you was out here fuckin’ too. That’s why it worked for so long between us. You did you, and I did me, no strings attached.”
Her face tightened. I held the baby a little closer without thought. I felt like my body was trying to protect him from the tension.
Amora exhaled slowly, like she was tired of fighting but didn’t know any other way to survive.
“I did,” she admitted. “I kept it a secret.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why you couldn’t just call me like a normal person? Why you couldn’t just?—”
“Because you wasn’t answering!” she snapped back. When she realized her tone had grown louder, she immediately softened, and the baby shifted in my arms. She lowered her voiceas if she didn’t want him to absorb her anger. “You shut me out completely, like I didn’t exist.”
I stared at her. “Amora, . . . you knew whatthiswould do.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said. Her eyes grew glossy. “That hurt me. Foreal, Zay.”
Something in me wanted to believe her. Something wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I was sure it was the baby nestled in my arms. I scoffed at the thought.
“You didn’t tell me, because you wanted leverage. You wanted to be in control of this.”
Her lips pressed together. Then she nodded. “Maybe,” she whispered.
“That ‘maybe’ could’ve got real ugly real fast.”
“You don’t need to rub it in my face.”
“And you ain’t need to make this a headline,” I shot back.
Amora moved closer to me and gently took Zayn out of my arms. She sat back down on the couch and cradled him as if her body had finally given up. She rubbed her free hand across her forehead as if she were easing a headache.
“I didn’t think I was gonna keep him,” she admitted, voice thin. “I had plans with an adoption agency.”
