2
I s a t i n my car outside Chico’s Burritos with the engine running. The windows were already fogging up from the heat blasting, and my hands were shaking so bad I had to lay them flat against my thighs just to get myself to breathe.
I couldn’t even drive right away. I couldn’t think. All I could do was sit there with the streetlight reflecting across my windshield. Christmas lights were strung on the storefronts across the parking lot, and my pulse was hammering so loud it felt like somebody knocking inside my damn chest.
I looked down at my phone in the cup holder. Woods was calling again, and I just let it ring. I didn’t decline it. I didn’t answer it. I just stared at his name glowing on the screen until it faded.
God, I miss him.
This wasn’t like me to ignore his calls. But shit, I was going through it. A single thought kept spinning in my head: Woods manifested this. Was this his fault? Maybe not entirely, but you know what I mean. He spoke this shit into existence. Now here I was, sitting alone, possibly pregnant. Most likely... definitely... pregnant.
People walked in and out of the burrito place under the glow of colored Christmas lights. A couple with matching scarves. Two teenagers laughing. A man holding a little girl’s hand while she bounced as if she’d overdosed on cocoa and candy canes. Snow on the edges of the sidewalks. Wreaths hanging from the light poles. Music coming from the speakers outside the stores. It all looked warm and peaceful. The whole city was excited for Christmas.
Meanwhile, I sat in my car, holding my breath like the world was ending. I was still hungry. I wanted that damn burrito. I shut off the engine and rushed inside Chico’s for my food. Then I got back in the car and drove off, eating. I was in heaven. At a red light, my phone dinged with a text from Woods.
Ignoring it, I stepped on the gas and kept grubbing on my burrito while heading toward the nearest CVS. Once there, I finished eating in the parking lot and guzzled a bottle of water. Sitting back, I
The store was nearly deserted. Tinny old-school Christmas music played. An older woman stacked gift wrap on a display. I snatched the first pregnancy test I saw and hurried to self-checkout. I paid, shoved it in my purse, and rushed to the car. My stomach twisted all the way back to my apartment.
By the time I pulled up outside my building, I felt like I was floating above my own body. Everything around me looked blurry. I had to talk myself out of sitting in the car all night. “Get out,” I whispered. “Go upstairs. Just take the test. You’re already freaking out—just get it over with.”
I forced myself out of the car and headed straight inside to the elevator, barely waving at the doorman. The lobby was decked out in full holiday mode with a tall tree sparkling with silver and blue ornaments and fake snow dusted across the windowsills. There was even that same jazzy version of “This Christmas” playing low through the speakers. I kept my head down and hit the button, praying nobody stepped on with me.
When the elevator finally let me off on the sixth floor, I made a beeline for my apartment, unlocked the door, and stepped into my little bubble of peace. It was soft and calm. Just how I liked it. Creamy beige walls, gold accents, a velvet blush couch I’d saved up for, and a fuzzy rug that felt like clouds under my feet. My apartment was everything to me.
My small faux tree stood in the corner by the window, dressed in rose gold ornaments and twinkling warm lights. A single holiday candle flickered on the counter. It was peppermint vanilla, the one I always lit this time of year. It smelled like Christmas and looked like it, too. But all I was worried about was taking this damn pregnancy test.
I retrieved the CVS bag from my Chanel purse and tossed it onto the couch. My hands were cold, clumsy, slow. Unwrapping the test felt strangely heavy, more than plastic should ever feel.
My voice cracked when I said, “Okay. Just… do it.” Once in the bathroom, I wasted no time peeing on it and then set it on the counter. Eyes wide. “Not me staring at it like it’s a ticking time bomb…”
Three minutes had never felt so long. When the timer on my phone went off, I couldn’t move at first. Only after forcing myself did I look—sure enough, there were two lines. I blinked slowly and hard, hoping the test would magically change, but it didn’t.
My knees almost buckled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I whispered, pressing my hand over my mouth. My eyes filled instantly. “This can’t be real.” But it was.
I dropped onto the closed toilet seat and stared at the wall. A slow wave surged through me. Shock—fear—disbelief—and some unnamed thing I refused to acknowledge yet.
All I could see was Woods. His hands on my waist. His voice in my ear. His chain dangling in my face. Him releasing inside me damn near every time. The way we connected like we already knew each other. I laid my head in my hands and whispered, “I can’t tell him. Not yet. I don’t even know what this means for me.”
My phone buzzed with another text from him:
I stared at the screen, tears still sitting heavy in my eyes. My whole life had just shifted. One moment, I was just scared—now, a wave of uncertainty and responsibility tangled up inside me. I could
“Yo, i f t h e m lights ain’t sealed up by tonight, that whole back corner gotta get redone before the twenty-third. We’re not fuckin’ up nobody’s Christmas orders behind sloppy work.” I stood in the middle of my newest greenhouse, watching one of my managers scramble to fix what should’ve been handled three days ago. “Did I say that clearly?” I asked him, lifting my brow.
“Yes, Mr. Thevlin. I’ll stay late tonight to make sure it’s—”
“You gon’ stay ‘til it’s right. I don’t care if that’s midnight or tomorrow mornin’. We don’t move sloppy in my operation. You been here too long to play rookie.”
He nodded with his face tight, and jogged off toward the crew handling Christmas-themed hybrid batches. They was wrapped up in red-and-gold foil with snowflakes and mistletoes on them. All that cute shit the market ate up had these holiday bundles flying off the shelves since Black Friday. It was my third check on this spot in a week. I was tired, hungry, wired on espresso, and irritated because Autumn was acting weird as hell.
I finally looked down at my phone. She hadn’t responded to my text or earlier FaceTime and call from the warehouse in Santa Cruz. I knew she was off work. I was just trying to see her pussy cream real quick over the camera, like I had done at least three times a week since Thanksgiving. Now she was moving different, and I wasn’t feeling that.
We'd been locked in since day one. Even when she was in Arbor Hills and I was in Cali juggling three farms, four greenhouses, two warehouses, and too many clients, I still made time for her. That was rare. I hadn’t paid a woman this much attention since my ex. Usually, most women got ignored mid-convo. Autumn had me pulling over just to hear about her wild days, smiling at my phone like a simp. Now she was ghosting me?
I stepped outside the greenhouse to get some air. It was warm out, which meant my hoodie wasn’t necessary, but fuck it. The Christmas lights hanging off the roof of the building blinked behind me with a few big ass red bows taped to the office windows. I’d had the team decorate just to give it some holiday cheer, even though my mood was all fucked up.
I pulled out my phone again. Still nothing. I opened our thread to see my last text to Autumn still sitting at the bottom. I hit FaceTime again, and it rang, and rang, and rang. I clenched my jaw and stared at the screen, thumb hovering like I wanted to call again.
“What the fuck is up wit’ you?” I muttered, tapping the phone screen. I got in my truck, fingers drumming the wheel. Tomorrow, Santa Rosa deliveries. LA needed eyes on the new hydro build. One of my drivers had a reroute issue in Vegas.
I had way too much spinning for a woman’s silence to rattle me but there I was, pressed like a muthafucka. Autumn made shit feel raw. She was smart, fine as hell, and all the way real. The kind of woman who knew how to handle me. Every time she moaned my name? That shit lit up all my nerves. Missing her felt like missing a hit I couldn’t get nowhere else.
I leaned my head back and exhaled hard. “Nah,” I muttered. “This ain’t how we’re movin’.” I unlocked my phone again and pulled up my travel app. I wasn’t about to just wait around. Autumn wanted to be quiet? Cool.
I quickly checked my schedule. I had to hit Compton Saturday morning to make sure the new nutrient system was running smoothly. Then, I had a couple of meetings on Sunday. So, it was looking like I could head to Arbor Hills by Monday afternoon. That gave me a few days.
Next, I grabbed my iPad and pulled up the flight dashboard for my jet. I wasn’t taking any chances this time. Aside from meeting Autumn, that last airport situation had me fucked up. I tapped the screen a few times and then hit my pilot's line directly. “Yo, Ray. You get that fuel request?”
“Already on it,” he replied. “She’ll be fully gassed and wheels up whenever you say.”
“Good. I want her ready by Monday afternoon. Last-minute trip.”
“No problem.”
I hung up and leaned back in my chair. Autumn was only about an hour and a half away, a short flight, but this wasn’t just any visit. I was showing up needing more than just answers. With Christmas around the corner, I meant every word: I was coming for her—for us. I needed to know if we still was on the same page, for real.
Reaching into the middle console, I pulled out the blunt I didn’t finish earlier and sparked it up. While smoking, I scrolled, looking for a cabin. I wanted quiet, space, and privacy for us—somewhere to disappear for a few days. I found a luxury cabin deep in Arbor Ridge. Stone fireplace, heated floors, king bed, enclosed outdoor hot tub, and woods view. That shit was so perfect, I booked it.
I wasn’t bullshitting about spending Christmas with Autumn. I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and kept smoking, exhaling slowly. I wasn’t flying to Arbor Hills just for holiday shit. I was rolling out there on some claiming-my-woman shit.