by Kendra Riley
“Well you shouldn’t have such awesome taste in music.”
It was as if no time had passed, like there wasn’t a crisis awaiting them on the other side of the tinted window. Nariah decided to enjoy the moment, fearful they would come far and few between from then on. Putting the song on repeat, they took turns singing their respective parts of the song.
Russell took immediate notice of the changes Nariah made to her apartment in the time he had been away. Italian inspired furniture now decorated the place, a red feature wall behind the 70-inch TV. His feet sank into the plush hand-woven rug. “Can I sit on the couch?”
“It’s stain resistant,” Nariah mentioned from the kitchen, entering the space with a glass in each hand. As she sat next to him, she wondered why she didn’t feel angry, or upset at all for some reason. She took some time to observe him as he drank, finishing the glass in three gulps. She stopped him before he made it to his feet, directing his eyes to the ottoman. “Don’t think I’m weird.” She flipped the top off, revealing a hidden wine fridge.
“Another thing for me to steal. I knew you were a genius.”
“I don’t know about all,” she denied, “I got pregnant on a one-night stand.” She didn’t realize what she had said until she saw her reflection in his dilated pupils. “I—”
He was on one knee, his hands feeling around her swollen stomach. “You’re pregnant.” The sentence was more of a statement than a question.
“Yeap. I gotta baby growin’ in me.”
“Is it—”
“You’re the only person I’ve been with, but we can get a paternity test if you don’t believe me,” she spat.
“I was going to ask if it was healthy.”
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I got to hear the heartbeat at the last visit.”
Russell continued caressing her stomach, his eyes flowing back and forth between it and her face, his smile widening as it sunk in. His face fell. “Have you been drinking?” Like Olivia, he snatched the glass.
She snatched it back. “I can have half a glass a week. I’m gettin’ tired of everybody snatching my glass,” she mumbled.
“I’m going to fly my chef out tomorrow.”
“I can cook.”
“I’m going to have him prepare a vegetarian meal plan. I don’t want you eating any animal flesh. I also need to get a water filtration system installed. And a security system; have you always lived this loose?” He paced, leaving strings of words behind him, his thoughts all over the place. “And I have to get you a ring and plan for the wedding. Geez, I haven’t even met your family yet. We can do that tomorrow. I need to get another suit.”
“Russell.”
“You have to meet my family too, though we might be able to do without that for a while. I’ll take a mini retirement so I can be here with you and the baby. I have to set up a trust fund for him and—”
“Russell!” She offered her hand, pulling him back down to the couch. “Calm down. I’m only three months.”
“Yeah, but—”
She held his face as she demonstrated how she wanted him to breathe.
After four cycles of inhales and exhales, his face had returned to its normal color, the heat leaving his skin. “I’m sorry. I’m just excited.” He kissed her. “We’re having our first baby.”
“My first baby.”
Once again, his face dropped, his head and hands dropping with it. He separated himself from her, combing his fingers through his hair, air rushing from his nose.
“We have to talk about what’s going on.”
“It’s not going to stop me from being in my child’s life.” There was no uncertainty in his voice. His posture was professional, his right ankle resting just above his left knee, his hands clasped in his lap. All he needed was an expensive tailored suit to complete the look of a billionaire boss.
“But it will stop me from considering trying to work things out between us. I have no problem co-parenting and I won’t stop you from seeing your child, but co-parents is all we’ll be.”
“You already know how I feel about you, Nariah. Those feelings have intensified now that I know you’re carrying my baby, our baby.”
“Then tell me the truth,” she insisted.
“You’ll run.”
“You won’t know that until you tell me.” She got up and took residence near the cream-colored arm chair sitting in front of the window. A push of a button lowered the shade, casting the room in darkness. She wanted to hide her facial expressions and bodily reactions to his words. “Be direct, callous, like you would in a business meeting.”
“Nariah please—”
“We cannot move forward until you tell me the truth.”
“Where should I start?” he asked.
“Is it true?”
Laughter could be heard through the shared wall. Romantic music flowed through the vents. Bits of the couple’s conversation sneaked into the room, cowering in fear upon running into the tension choking the loft.
Nariah remained quiet, patient as she waited for confirmation, more so than an answer. The dripping faucet helped to keep track of time. His position shifted at 30 seconds. He made another movement at 120.
“It’s true. I cheated on my wife with—”
“And had a kid.”
“I don’t know about that for sure. I never went for a DNA test. The dates lined up so I just assumed she was telling me the truth.” His sigh punctured the silence. “She’s been blackmailing me.”
“The calls?”
“All her. I found out she was going to leak the story when we were in Florida. I told her I wasn’t going to pay her anymore the day before we left.”
“How much?”
“How much?” he repeated.
“How much did you pay her...total?”
“Does that really matter?”
“Yes, it does matter. I want to know. I need to know.”
“$5 million, but that was also for the baby. I’m not a deadbeat. I would spend time with him every weekend. He knows who I am. I messed up, by cheating on my wife, by having unprotected sex with someone I couldn’t care less about. But one thing my father did teach me was to take responsibility for my actions.”
“And hide them when you can,” she finished for him.
“That’s not fair.”
“But it’s what you did. I don’t care that you hid it from the world. You hid it from me.” Nariah blinked away her tears. “You said you loved me.”
“I do love you.”
“Then how could you keep something like that from me? You don’t know how happy I am nobody knew about us. Do you know how stupid I would look right now? How would I, how am I supposed to explain this to my family?”
Russell crossed the room, kneeling in front of her. “I swear I wanted to tell you, baby.”
“You just didn’t know how right?” Her irises vanished into the back of her head. “This ain’t a damn movie.”
“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I thought I could take care of it before—”
“You thought you could bury it along with all your other dirty secrets.” She sidestepped him, striding to the other side of the space. “I’m probably just a make-up for your failed experiment.”
“What?!”
“I knew I wasn’t the first black girl you’d been with, but I never thought I wouldn’t be the first you got pregnant. You were probably just gonna use me to, to—”
“Don’t you dare finish what you’re about to say.”
The boom in his voice cleared the fog from her mind. Her back pressed against the wall as he came near her. Raising onto the tips of her toes created the illusion that she had created more space. His breath warmed her face, the intensity of his stare boring holes in her eyes. There was no curve or bend in his finger as it pointed at her lips. Goosebumps raised on her skin as he stepped closer, a tingle of lust flowing through her as her chest rubbed against his.
“I’ve said this befor
e and I won’t say it again. I don’t give a fuck what color you are. You could be purple for all I care.” His lip curled in disgust, the taste of his thoughts sour on his tongue. He stepped back. “I’m gonna get a hotel. I’ll call you later.” His echoing footsteps made the place feel empty. After he trapped his heat behind the heavy elevator doors, a draft entered the loft, slithering around her before seeping into her skin.
She listened to Sade playing through the vents, the faucet on beat. She pictured the couple slow dancing, holding each other, whispering love poems in one another’s ears. She wondered if they had any idea that their love wouldn’t last. Her mind and body were numb as she went to her bedroom.
###
Mood: Bored
Title: Cravings
Something’s missing and I don’t know what it is. If I’m being honest, I do. I miss Russell. I know I’m not supposed to want to forgive him, but I do. I believe him. I don’t think he would have kept what was going on from me if he thought I would understand. I probably would have done the same thing. Does that make me a hypocrite? I promised myself I would give him space. I want to call him so bad. I had to turn my phone on silent to keep from looking at it all day. What if he left New York? What if he never talks to me again? This is probably how most girls felt in high school after their boyfriends threatened to break up with them. I miss him. I hope he calls soon.
###
Three days passed before Russell called. She agreed to go apartment hunting with him, thinking a neutral environment would keep their conversations from boiling over. They were pulling up at the third showing for the day, a brownstone not far from her parents’ home. Despite their fight, he remained a gentleman, opening her door and helping her out. He kept hold of her hand as they ascended the stairs, the door already unlocked.
The modern design belied the classic exterior, a neutral color palette, featuring soft greys and blacks as accent colors bringing the space to life. Twelve-foot ceilings helped make it appear larger than it was, a double-sided fireplace separating the living room and the kitchen.
“Wish I could afford something like this.”
“You can,” Russell said.
“I’m doing alright, but I ain’t got it like this.”
“Not yet.”
“How much does it cost?” she asked, taking in the minimalistic paintings and sculptures.
“It doesn’t matter. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s great. But it doesn’t matter if I like it. Our kid is going to be spending more time here than me.”
“That’s one of the reasons I brought you here,” he sat on the sofa, “I wanted to apologize for the other day.” He held up a hand to stop her interruption. “I was wrong for speaking to you the way I did. I lost my cool and you didn’t deserve that, so, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. When I know someone’s buttons, I tend to push them,” she admitted.
“Nariah, baby, I love you. And I know I don’t want to be with anybody else. I should have told you what was going on from the beginning. I got you something.” He removed a necklace box from his jacket. “I know you don’t care about material things, but I needed to get you something to show how I feel about you.”
The diamonds lit more of her face the more he opened the lid. A sterling silver tennis bracelet rested in neatly folded tissue paper.
“I would have gotten you a ring, but I didn’t want to scare you.” He laughed.
“So this is supposed to be a promise bracelet.”
He pecked her lips. “I love how well you get me.” He fastened it around her wrist before saying, “I messed up by lying to you. I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get you back. So much so that I bought this place for us.”
“No you didn’t.”
“I technically bought it when I bought the building but—”
“You own this entire building?”
“Yeah. I was gonna convert the entire first floor into a fitness studio for you, but I figured I’d better wait to see if you like the place first.” He swept her into his arms. “See, having a billionaire as your baby daddy isn’t so bad.”
“It sounds so weird to hear a white guy say baby daddy.” Nariah laughed. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she inhaled his cologne, the woodsy scent creating a storm in her pelvis. She leaned away from his kiss. “This does not mean you’re off the hook.”
“Of course not, love. This is only the beginning. When are you thinking about moving in?”
“Hold on there, Jethro, you haven’t even met my parents yet.” She studied the confused look on his face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know who Jethro is?”
Russell hunched his shoulders.
“You have much to learn, Mr. Haines.”
“Teach me then, Mrs. Haines. I mean Mrs. Alexander.”
Chapter10
Entry #: 175
Mood: Bloated
Title: I found love
Craving: S'mores
As of today, I am six months pregnant. Never knew time could move fast and slow at the same time. Having Russell here has been a big help. I don’t know what I would do without him. I feel like we’re finally moving forward from the scandal. The first few months weren’t easy. I didn’t trust him at all. But he’s showing me different. He’s been to every doctor’s appointment, every birthing class. I kind of think there are two of him. The thing I’m most proud of is him owning up to his mistakes. He held a press conference and publicly apologized to his now ex-wife and introduced the world to his son. The DNA test proved him to be the father. I know most people wouldn’t take him back, but I know he wouldn’t hurt me again. I can honestly say I’m happy.
###
Entry #: 204
Mood: Fat
Title: Tired of being pregnant
Craving: Chinese Soul Food
I don’t know if Chinese soul food is even a thing, but somebody needs to invent it. Baby boy is getting heavier by the day. I feel like he’s gonna be 20 pounds. God I hope not. Everything’s going well. Baby boy is healthy. We don’t have a name yet. Russell wants him to be a junior. Ha! I think not. I wish I could see him. Is it bad that I want to know what color his skin is? I don’t care, but if he’s leaning toward my side that’s bragging rights forever. Unless he looks like his dad. I hope he’s competitive like me. Only two months to go.
###
Entry #: 220
Mood: Nervous
Title: Meeting the parents
Today has been seven months in the making. I guess it would be normal if me and Russell weren’t about to have a kid. I hope my parents like him or at least are cordial with him. I spent the last week prepping them. They know about the scandal so there won’t be any surprises...on either side. Side note: I literally don’t fit in any of my clothes and I just went shopping last month. Bigger belly = bigger baby. At least my baby boy is growing. If I don’t make it out of my parents’ house alive, this is my last will and testament. I want everything to go to Olivia. I’m thinking too hard. Everything will be fine. Right?
###
Russell’s hand in the small of Nariah’s back comforted her, allowing her to embrace the cool breeze swirling around her. If the day’s temperament was any indication, the meeting would go well. The sun was out, birds singing its praises, love on display—people holding hands, sneaking quick kisses, men carrying their women across puddles, producing smiles just as wide.
When she turned around, she was greeted by a slightly more aged version of her face. “Hey Mama.”
Tyra skipped over her daughter, her eyes drawn to the handsome man standing next to her. She wiped her bangs out of her eyes, erasing any sign that she was impressed. “So this is him?”
“Hello to you too,” Nariah returned. “His name is Russell and yes, this is him.”
Tyra responded by turning her back, leaving the door open for them to walk through.
“Is that good?” Russell asked.
“She didn’t
insult you, so I’d have to say yes.”
Inside, the traditional Jamaican spices scented the air. Curry powder, ginger, an assortment of peppers, and turmeric tickled their noses, Russell, unused to the combination, blinked the tears out of his eyes. An inhale too deep conjured a deep cough.
“I hope that doesn’t mean you don’t like spicy food,” Tyra teased from the kitchen.
“I’m confident in saying we have two definitions of what spicy is.”
“That’s fine. I brought plenty of milk. Nariah, go say hello to your father and brother. They’re in the basement watching the game. Russell, are you a basketball fan?”
“Yes ma’am. I was on the team in high school.” He kept his eyes moving from the sculptures surrounding the room, feeling Nariah’s stare threatening to melt his skin.
“You’ll fit right in.”
Nariah stopped at the top of the stairs, turning around to face him, holding onto his shoulder for support. “You never told me you played basketball.”
“I didn’t say I played. I said I was on the team. The father of your child was the leading bench warmer.” He ignored her punch to his chest, holding her waist as she descended into the darkness.
“That better be my baby girl or you’re liable to get hit with something that ain’t nice.”
“It’s me Daddy,” Nariah confirmed. She hobbled past her brother, greeting him with a slap on the thigh before throwing herself into her dad. “Never thought the day would come when you couldn’t fit your arms around me.”
“That’s only because I don’t want to crush my grandson.” Maxwell quizzed her on her diet as he had done each time they spoke. Unlike Tyra, he directly acknowledged Russell’s presence, introducing himself and Jacoby.
“Nice to meet you sir.”
“There’s no need for that, call me Mr. Alexander.” After getting his amusement from Russell’s shock he said, “I’m just kidding, call me Maxwell.”
“Call me Mr. Maxwell,” Jacoby said, shaking his hand.
“Butthead.”
“It’s just a joke sis, geez.”
“Did your mom ignore him?” Maxwell asked.
“You know she did. She likes him though. Their first conversation went well.”
