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“I know, I do, babe, but I can handle it. I’m strong, I’m a big girl.” She walked up to me and put her forehead against the bottom of my chest.
“Thanks, Amir.”
“For what?”
“Caring the way you do.”
“I’m supposed to.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to.” she replied,
“And I love you so much for that baby.” She pressed her palms up against my chest.
“You’re so handsome, so thoughtful, so protective of me. You deserve the world, Daddy. And I can’t wait to give it to you and have your first child.”
She started to drop down to her knees before she grabbed my dick out of my pants and put it straight into her mouth. Or at least all that she could fit.
Delilah sucked my dick right there in the restroom against the counter, and for the first time since I woke up, I felt completely relaxed for the moment. After about five minutes I exploded in her mouth and watched her swallow my nut like I was her morning tea.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Delilah, Amir, it’s Nadia.”
Her mama’s voice carried down into the restroom, and Delilah quickly got up from the floor, wiping her mouth fast like she was trying to hide what she had been doing. The panic in her movements made me laugh because it reminded me of the old times with us. Back then, whenever her parents called for her while I was over here, she would react the same way.
“Yes, Mother?” she called back.
“Your father and I are cooking breakfast. I have shakshuka on the stove, turkey sausage, warm pita bread, and some mint tea made. You both should come up and enjoy it while it’s hot.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Delilah replied, going over to the sink to brush her teeth.
Delilah freshened herself up a little more, and once we finished getting dressed, we headed upstairs together. The second we stepped into the kitchen, the smell of seasoned tomatoes, onions, peppers, and tea filled the whole space. Her mama had the kitchen smelling good as hell, and despite my not being completely comfortable here, the warmth in the house was comforting.
We sat down at the small kitchen table, and I felt big as hell sitting there because everything in the room felt compact compared to what I was used to. Delilah’s father, Sahir, sat on the opposite side of the table, sipping coffee quietly
Me and Sahir never got along in the past. He has called me everything under the sun, except "Amir," at one point or another. Half the time, he would hear gossip about my family floating around his laundromats and judge me for it. A lot of the shit he heard about me was true, but a lot of it wasn’t. Sahir was the kind of man who would rather believe his own assumptions than listen to facts. He had a pride that often fucked people up because being realistic was out the door when you had to stick to whatever bull shit you came up with.
Delilah helped her mother fix the plates before bringing one over to her father and me and sitting them down in front of us. I quickly dove into the food, remembering how good this homemade Halah was in the morning. Mecca always kept a Muslim chef in the kitchen to cook these kinds of meals for us. He was a lot of things, but with that, he always made sure we were in touch with our culture.
“So, Amir.” Sahir finally spoke up after sitting in silence for a good minute.
“Delilah tells us that you two are expecting a child together.”
I wiped my mouth again with a napkin, buying some time before I spoke.
“Oh.” I looked to Delilah.
“I didn’t realize she told anyone yet, but yeah, we are.”
“Delilah and I, along with her mother, have a very open and honest relationship. We are always here to support her, and we hope you will as well. You do plan on supporting her throughout this pregnancy and the child’s life, correct?”
“Dad, we can talk about this another time.”
“Why so? We are having breakfast, my love. It’s just a discussion, it’s okay, isn’t it, Amir?”
“Of course it’s fine. But yes, to answer your question, I plan on being there for Delilah every step of the way through this pregnancy and even after.”
“Great, so what about marriage. When shall we book the Mosque for a ceremony?”