Page 117 of Addicted

“Yeah,” I said.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t tell me to leave. She pulled down her leggings and panties and sat on the toilet. I watched her in silence as she peed on both sticks, then set them on the counter. She washed her hands, then walked over to her side of the his and hers sinks. I walked over to mine.

We stood there, facing each other across the bathroom. Neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy. Tense. Indie pulled out her phone and set a timer for three minutes. Then we waited. I stared at her while she stared at the tests.

Her hands were gripping the edge of the counter so hard her knuckles were damn near white. I could see the fear in her eyes. The uncertainty. But I wasn’t uncertain. I already knew.

After what felt like an eternity, the alarm on her phone went off. We both looked down at the tests. Two pink lines on both of them.

Positive.

I stared at those two lines, and something inside me shifted. I couldn’t describe the emotions raging through me. Pride. Possessiveness. Fear. Love. All of it hitting me at once.

Indie was carrying my child.

Our child.

A piece of me was growing inside her.

I looked over at her, and she was crying. Tears streaming down her face as she stared at the tests.

“I’m really pregnant,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She sounded shellshocked. Like she couldn’t believe it.

My jaw clenched.

“Them happy tears?” I asked.

She looked up at me and nodded.

“I’m happy, Stone,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just can’t believe I’m really pregnant. We’re gonna have a baby.”

I walked over to her and pulled her into my arms. Held her against my chest. Kissed the top of her head over and over. She wrapped her arms around me and held on tight. After a moment, she pulled back and looked up into my eyes.

“Are you happy?” she asked.

I stared down at her. At this beautiful, strong, fearless woman who’d changed my entire life. Who’d made me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of feeling. Who was now carrying my baby.

“You got my seed in you,” I said, my voice rough. “Hell yeah a nigga happy. I love you, Indigo. And I’m gon’ love our baby. I already do.”

Her face crumpled and she started crying again, but she was smiling through the tears.

“I love you, too, daddy,” she said.

I kissed her, deep and slow and full of everything I felt for her. When I pulled back, I rested my forehead against hers.

This was it. This was my family.

But before I could say anything else, Indie’s face went pale. She broke free from my grip and ran to the toilet, dropping to her knees. I followed her, kneeling down beside her and rubbing her back as she dry heaved. Nothing came up. She was empty, but her body was still trying.

“It’s okay, baby,” I said quietly, rubbing slow circles on her back. “You gon’ be straight.”

She leaned against me, exhausted.

I held her there on the bathroom floor, my hand never stopping its soothing motion on her back.

As I sat there, holding the woman I loved while she carried my child, I made a promise to myself.