AVA REYNOLDS
Two days after I filled out the application for the condo, I was approved. By the next day, I had already paid the deposit and first month’s rent. Tomorrow, I would be picking up the keys. I had already been picking out furniture for my dream place since I returned to Chicago, so all I had to do was go to the shopping carts and purchase it. My place would be fully furnished by next week.
Now I was standing in the middle of my room with my dresser drawer pulled all the way out, folding clothes into neat stacks on the bed while Zahra sat in the middle of my mattress pouting like I had personally betrayed her.
“I still don’t like this,” she whined.
I looked over at her and laughed. “You’re acting like I’m moving to another state.”
She deepened her pout. “You’re moving out, though.”
I folded a pair of leggings and laid them in the open suitcase. “Zahra, I couldn’t live here forever.”
She rubbed her big stomach and frowned harder. “Legend and Icon live together in separate suites.”
That made me holler a laugh. “Girl, I do not want to live that close to you and Saint forever.”
She shrugged, but she was still pouting. “It could work.”
“I’m ready to live onmy own.”
Zahra watched me fold another stack of clothes. “It’s going to be a lot doing all this by yourself with a baby. For the days and nights that Reek isn’t there to help, you’re going to need some assistance when the baby is a newborn.”
I cringed, being reminded that everybody knew I was going to be alone in this because Reek made it so obvious he had no interest in being a family.
“Women do it every day. Every mother isn’t blessed with a husband like yours and your brothers-in-law.”
“You have family, though. You should at least stay here until the baby is older and you don’t need as much help.”
Before I could respond, Saint stuck his head in the doorway with a plate in one hand with a slice of cake on it, smiling from ear-to-ear.
Zahra rolled her eyes immediately. “Oh God. Ever since those treats at the shower went over well, he thinks he a baker now.”
Saint ignored her and came farther in. “I’m practicing for your baby shower.”
I started cracking up. “Oh. My. God.”
“It’s carrot cake,” he announced, so proudly. “Your favorite.”
I looked at the cake again. It actually looked moist, the layers were neat, and the cream cheese frosting was thick.
He held it out toward me. “Here.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t want any right now.”
Saint frowned like I had said something offensive. “You might not, but the baby does.”
That made Zahra laugh.
I reached to push his hand away, but before I could, Saint broke off a piece with the fork and held it to my mouth.
“Saint—”
“Open.”
“I said I don’t—”
He gave me that same look he gave grown men right before they listened.
