“You know I hate Israel’s ass. Why of all the people you gotta have him in the picture? Around my shorty? Claiming my shorty? I hate this nigga! When I saw him trying to shoot his shot with you at that banquet, all I wanted to do was interrupt his flow. And I did. You went home with me that night. It was me blowing your back out.”
My mouth was on the floor as he continued talking.
“And you still ended up with that nigga. I don’t want him around the baby.”
“Let’s circle back to what you just said. You only talked to me at the banquet to keep Kaynaan from talking to me? You lied to me about him having a thing about only datingsnowflakes, when you knew all along that lady was the owner’s daughter?”
He didn’t look remorseful when he shrugged. “Like I told you, I hate that nigga. I would’ve said anything to stick it to his punk ass.”
“Oh wow,” I muttered as I sat with the thought that I was only a pawn. I was pregnant by a man who only wanted to use me as a pawn in a rivalry. “This just keeps getting better and better.” At this point, I was never going to be able to leave therapy. This was a whole new issue to work through.
“So, you’ve been going to doctor’s appointments and shit?”
He asked the question like he hadn’t just thrown my entire world into a blender. As if my mind wasn’t still spinning with the revelation that he only approached me to hurt Kaynaan. This man had slutted me out all across the city of Chicago. In the back of trucks and in janitor closets. In hotel rooms and in the ladies’ room at my favorite restaurant. And he only approached me because Kaynaan approached me? I felt like I had to throw up.
“Hey, you cool?” He started coming toward me.
I stuck out my arm and held up my hand. “Don’t touch me,” I said through a gag that thankfully didn’t result in me throwing up. “You only approached me to get under Kaynaan’s skin, and now I’m pregnant by you. Do you get that? Do you understand what you just laid at my feet? You never saw me, Preston. All you saw was Kaynaan’s interest in me.” I gagged again.
Realization seemed to dawn on him. “Nah. It wasn’t like that. I mean, it was at first. But after I talked to you and spent some time with you, . . . you were cool. You were my pretty lil homie with the good pussy. My innocent, put-together, straitlaced homie with?—”
“Stop talking to me. You need to go.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to say anything to make you feel some type of way about how we got together. But regardless of the fact that it wasn’t love at first sight or no shit like that, you’re still pregnant with my baby.”
“If you want to be involved in this child’s life, have your attorney contact me. Otherwise, you and I don’t need to have any dealings.”
“What about the appointments and all the stuff leading up to the baby’s birth?”
I scoffed and tried not to gag. “I don’t want you there. Sorry if that makes you feel some type of way,” I mocked because I felt like being petty. “Have your attorney force me to let you come. Otherwise . . .” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Bitches,” he mumbled. “I want a fucking paternity test.”
I shrugged a second time. “Have your attorney contact me.”
When he finally left, LoLo came from around the corner where she’d been standing, and listening to the whole conversation. “Where’s your phone?”
I slid it to her, as I took a seat on a stool and put my head down on the counter.
“I’m calling Kaynaan.”
“Kaynaan!” I basically shrieked as I watched the video on the phone in my hand.
“Don’t Kaynaan me. I don’t appreciate that nigga rolling through here and fucking with you.”
“But to jeopardize your job. He’s your co-worker and you fought him at work.”
“It wasn’t a fight. It was a few punches, and his lame ass went down.”
“Still. He’s probably gonna sue you. The league’s probably gonna fine you. I don’t want you out?—”
“Stop. Stop. I don’t wanna hear about you not wanting to be the cause of me and dude getting into it. You weren’t the cause . . . He was the fucking cause. Him. His damn actions. Being the clown-ass nigga he is. Pushing up on you to stop me from pushing up on you. Lying to you so you wouldn’t be interested in me. When LoLo called me and told me the shit he was saying to you, . . . that motherfucker is lucky all he got was a two-piece.”
I sighed loudly.
“Don’t do that, Wyndi. Don’t try to make my righteous anger problematic. You’re mine to protect.” He pulled me into hisarms and held me tightly. “You’re mine to protect. You and my daughter are mine to protect. And I’mma protect y’all anytime. Every time. And all the fucking time.”
