“You not locked up,” he said. “You bein’ watched.”
“That’s the same shit,” I replied, my voice tight. “I’m not a fuckin’ child.”
Toni…” he said, his tone firmer now. “You not a child, but you about to have my child?—”
“And there it go,” I interrupted, throwin’ my hands up. “It’s always YOUR child this and YOUR child that.”
He nodded once. “And you muthafuckin’ right. What else you got a problem with?”
I swallowed, feelin’ that shit burn. “So, what about me? You just don’t give a fuck about me no more?”
“That’s not what I said,” he replied.
“That’s how it feels,” I said, my voice lower now but still hurt.
He exhaled slowly. “You want me to act like what you did was okay, and I’m not doin’ that.”
“I was defendin’ my family!” I cried.
“And I do that every day,” he came back. “But I’m not carryin’ a baby while I’m doin’ it.”
I shook my head, not likin’ that answer. “You settin’ a double standard.”
“The problem is you want me to be a bitch ass nigga,” he said, lookin’ straight at me, “and I can never be that.”
I stared at him. “I been there for you through everything,” I said, my voice crackin’ a lil’. “Through all your shit, and this how you do me?”
“And I been here too,” he replied. “But I’m not throwin’ the shit in your face, and I damn sure ain’t about to play about my child.”
“And none of this would’ve happened if you ain’t cheat,” I added, my voice sharp again.
He went still for a second, then looked at me. “Shid… you done killed the bitch I so called cheated with, so I don’t even know why the fuck you still complainin’.”
That hurt more than I expected, and I felt it all over my face, but instead of fallin’ back, it just made somethin’ ugly rise up in me.
I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head. “Damn… so that’s what this is?” I muttered, lookin’ up at him. “You that mad I killed yo’ side bitch? You hurt about it?”
His eyes dropped to mine, and the way he looked at me made my stomach twist ’cause it was clear as day that I just said some shit that provoked him.
He ain’t rush to answer me either. He just stood there lookin’ at me like I still wasn’t gettin’ it.
“That’s your fuckin’ problem right there,” he said finally, his voice deep in a way that felt worse than him yellin’. “Everything always come back to how fucked up I am, and how a nigga just doin’ you wrong. I’m sick of hearin’ the shit, Toni.”
I frowned, feelin’ that hit but not wantin’ to take it. “So now I’m selfish?”
“If the shoe fit, lace them hoes up,” he replied without hesitation. “’Cause you not hearin’ me, Toni. You hearin’ yourself, and you don’t sound smart right now.”
My stomach tightened, anger mixin’ with hurt in a way that had me breathin’ a lil’ harder.
“See… he said as he pointed at my stomach. “You stressin’ my daughter. Ya stomach foldin’ and shit.”
“Whatever Kay’Lo. MY daughter is fine. You just keep throwin’ this shit in my face like I ain’t the one carryin’ her. My’Love is FINE!”
“And I’m the one makin’ sure both of y’all make it,” he shot back. “That’s the difference.”
I stared at him, feelin’ like he was talkin’ over me, like he kept choosin’ just me being pregnant over me as a person. That shit sat wrong no matter how much sense he thought he was makin’.
“So, what? I just don’t matter no more?” I asked, my voice tight. “It’s just you and My’Love now?”
