Chapter 52 #3
“And I could never forget about you, Naji. Sometimes love doesn’t show up loud; sometimes it hides in the shadows, praying for you, even when it can’t stand beside you.
That’s what it was for me. I didn’t need to be remembered; I just needed to know you survived and that you were okay,” she explained, her voice gentle yet filled with an unspoken weight of understanding.
Daphnee’s eyes wandered across the bustling block, taking in the laughter and chatter around us then added, “And from the looks of things… you’re doing great. ”
“I am,” I responded, while taking a glance at Imanio, who was staring at me with a slight frown, probably wondering who I was talking to.
I gave him a sincere smile to assure him I was good.
Daphnee patted my shoulder gently. “Then that’s all that matters.”
With a sudden burst of energy, she clapped her hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the ambient noise.
“Okay! Now that all the tear-jerking soap opera monologues are out the way, who do I see about a plate?”
I chuckled. “Come on.”
I looped my arm through hers and we made our way into the lively crowd.
As dusk rolled in, the sky began to transform.
But just as I started to lose myself in the celebration, a sudden wave of unease tumbled through my stomach, turning my excitement into a knot of dread.
I blinked rapidly, pressing a hand to my mouth as I made a beeline for the nearest restroom.
I barely made it inside before the nausea surged, overwhelming me in a tidal wave of discomfort.
Throwing up wasn’t an uncommon experience for me; it was an unfortunate side effect of my anxiety—but that felt different. It was like my body was sending out urgent signals, trying to communicate what my mind hadn’t yet grasped.
After a shaky moment, I stepped back outside, only to find Mama Rose waiting for me with an expression of knowing, as though she had already unraveled the truth I hadn’t dared to voice.
She raised an eyebrow, piercing through my dazed state.
“I had a dream about fishes the other night. And every time I have those types of dreams…” Mama Rose paused, allowing her words to hang heavily in the air, before she continued with a playful smirk. “It means someone close to me is already pregnant and don’t know it yet… or they’re about to be.”
“P-Pregnant?!” The word burst from my lips in a frantic rush, tangled in a jumble of shock and disbelief that tugged at my throat, nearly spilling into an outburst.
“My uterus just blinked like it saw Jesus and screamed hallelujah—what does that mean?!”
It didn’t make sense—hell, over ninety percent of my outbursts never did—but it was the only thing my brain could produce at that moment.
Mama Rose chuckled, shaking her head like she’d heard it all before.
“It means it’s time to start buying ginger ale and Gatorade, baby. And don’t forget the crackers—you gon’ need those too.”
I took a step back, my mouth agape, struggling to catch my breath amidst the flurry of emotions that swirled within me.
Pregnant?
That wasn’t supposed to be real—at least not for me, and certainly not at that moment in my life. I’d been so busy—between the block party, dealing with Imanio’s mama and her bullshit, and all the other damn chaos—all of that drew my attention away from something crucial: I had missed my period.
My cycle was always irregular, but still, I noticed it.
That time? I didn’t even think about it.
Because honestly... Imanio and I had been having sex like we were making up for lost time.
Since the first time, it hadn’t stopped.
We didn’t even try to slow down. There were nights I fell asleep in his arms, still catching my breath, and mornings when I woke up to kisses that turned into everything else.
We weren’t always careful. It had felt so good to feel good … for once.
To be desired, touched, safe, and loved.
In those fleeting moments, I wasn’t thinking about the potential consequences or the possibility of an unexpected pregnancy; all that occupied my mind was how good he felt inside of me.
Another tic flinched across my cheek, and I whispered, “Bluetooth babies?! Who connected me?!”
Mama Rose bit her lip, desperately trying to stifle her laughter, yet her eyes sparkled with affection and understanding.
“I just threw up ‘cause I moved too fast,” I muttered, attempting to talk myself down as another tic jerked through my neck, sending a jolt of anxiety cascading through me.
“Somebody call WebMD—I need a second opinion and a priest!” I exclaimed, the absurdity of the moment crashing over me like a wave, leaving me breathless and teetering on the edge of panic and hilarity.
Mama Rose finally chuckled, slow and low. “You don’t need no priest, sugar; you need to sit down and take a breath.”
“I did breathe,” I said, pacing now.
“You gon’ cry or call somebody?” she asked gently, folding her arms like this wasn’t her first rodeo.
I paused mid-step, turning to meet her gaze, and whispered, “If I p-pee on a stick and it comes back positive, I’m running away.”
Mama Rose scoffed incredulously, a bemused smile playing on her lips.
“As if my grandson would allow that.”
Her confidence in him made me feel both supported and more terrified.
I fell silent again, my chest tightening, rising and falling too quickly as if my ribs were in a heated argument, fighting for air.
My thoughts were chaotic—no, they were scrambling like autumn leaves in a whirlwind.
I could face a lot of things, but this? This felt too big, too final, and too close to something that could either break me or change everything.
“What if he…” I barely breathed the words aloud, not wanting to give life to my greatest fear.
Mama Rose’s eyes softened, glistening with understanding as if she already knew the dark place my mind was drifting toward.
“What if he what?” she prompted gently, coaxing it out of me.
“What if he’s not ready?” I whispered, my voice scarcely above a breath. “What if he f-feels like I trapped him or something? What if this ruins us?”
Another tic twitched at my cheek, a small tell that I couldn’t seem to control.
“My ovaries wasn’t supposed to win!” I shrilled in a mix of frustration and disbelief, the absurdity of the moment pricking through my panic.
Mama Rose smiled. “Naji, Imanio may be a lot of things, but scared ain’t one of ’em.”
I glanced down at my fidgeting hands, gripping the counter as if it could anchor me in this storm.
“But I’m not even sure yet. I could be overthinking this. It might b-be nothing, right?”
She stepped closer, her hand warm and reassuring on my arm.
“And it might be everything. But whatever it turns out to be, you don’t have to handle it by yourself. That man loves you. You know that. Heck, we all do.”
My throat tightened at the thought of his potential reaction.
“But what if I tell him and then he goes quiet? Like he’s trying to figure out how to leave without breaking my heart.”
Mama Rose fixed me with that look—the one that said, baby girl, don’t underestimate your own power.
“Sugar… if Imanio doesn’t know by now that he found a woman worth building a kingdom with, then I taught that boy nothing.”
I sniffed, the impending tears threatening to spill over. A small tic flickered at my cheekbone, and I could hardly stifle the humor in my voice when I said, “Somebody tell the baby I said sorry in advance!”
Mama Rose giggled warmly, pulling me into a comforting hug, her arms enveloping me like a fortress.
“You gon’ be fine. And if he gets weird, I got bail money and two sharp earrings ready. But go on and talk to your husband,” she encouraged, nudging me forward with a motherly determination.
I put a hand over my stomach—flat, soft, unassuming.
Could there truly be a life beginning to blossom in that quiet space? What if I was about to become a mother?
My thoughts raced to Imanio.
How would he react if I shared the news?
Would his entire demeanor shift in an instant?
What if he took a step back, overwhelmed by the thought?
Would he think I had orchestrated this, that I had somehow planned for this moment when my own world still felt so fractured?
He was aware of my past—the trauma I carried like an invisible weight.
I knew I wasn’t completely healed; the scars were still fresh in places.
What if he believed I wasn’t ready for such a huge commitment? Hell… was I ready?
I felt another wave of heat rise in my chest—panic.
Then a voice floated back into my head—Mama Rose’s voice:
“That man loves you.”
I took a shaky breath.
Okay. I just need to talk to my husband.
I took another deep breath, feeling the air expand in my lungs, ready to confront whatever awaited me on the other side.
I spotted Imanio across the yard, settled at a folding table surrounded by Chi and a couple of other guys, playing dominoes.
He was leaned back in his chair, exuding an easy confidence, his trademark grin plastered across his face, like he knew with absolute certainty that victory was his—because, deep down, he probably was winning.
In one hand, he cradled a cup filled with something dark and frothy, while a toothpick lounged lazily in the corner of his mouth.
I hated to interrupt him when he was in that zone, but necessity pulled me forward.
“Hey,” I called out, my voice straining to break through the cacophony of clinking bottles and shouting friends. “I need to talk to you.”
The moment my words reached him, his smile faded.
“What’s wrong? Who said something to you?” he snapped, his expression shifting to one of immediate concern. “Somebody touched you? Looked at you wrong? Where they at?”
Imanio’s protective instincts flared to life, and I could see the shift in his demeanor as he began to push back from the table, ready to confront any threat.
Chi let out a low whistle, shaking his head with an amused grin.
“Damn, bro, let me clear the table first.”
I grasped Imanio’s hand, urgency overtaking me.
“No, baby. N-no one touched me,” I insisted quickly, my voice a frenzied whisper. “Relax.”
A nervous tic jolted through me at that moment, an unsettling premonition gnawing at my insides.
“I smell bad vibes in corduroy pants!”
He blinked at me, his brow knitting in confusion, but not a hint of a smile broke through his serious facade.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I assured, taking a deep, calming breath. “But we really need to talk. Just… not out here.”
He nodded before strolling alongside me, cutting through the crowd with the purpose of someone with business to handle—a silent sentinel by my side.
We ended up taking a stroll on the quieter sidewalk, the distant sounds of revelry fading behind us.
“Talk to me,” he prompted, his voice low and steady, encouraging me to open up.
I exhaled hard, mustering my courage.
“Okay, so, um—I’m not trying to freak you out, but I’ve been thinking, and I might be… like, maybe… p-probably pregnant.”
His brow arched, surprise flickering across his features. But he said nothing, so I pressed on, fueled by a mix of anxiety and the need to unburden my thoughts.
“I threw up earlier, and I realized I missed my period. I didn’t even notice at first, which is crazy ‘cause I a-always notice—but this time I totally didn’t. And Mama Rose said she’d been dreaming about fish. And then I started doing the math in my head, and?—”
He interrupted me with a chuckle, his laughter warm, shaking his head as if he found my rambling endearing.
I frowned. “You’re… laughing?”
A shudder ran through my shoulders, and the following words burst out like they were shot from a cannon.
“The fishes are swimming in my stomach!”
“I did laugh, baby,” he admitted, overlooking my outburst. “But because I noticed… the missed period.”
I stared, my eyes widening in disbelief. “You… you did?”
Imanio smirked then, a playful glimmer in his eyes as his hand drifted up to rest gently against my waist.
“Yeah. I’m fuckin’ you, so of course, I noticed. And I been beatin’ it raw every damn chance I get. Besides, you’ve been a lil’ moodier this week.”
I swallowed, skin hot.
He leaned down, voice brushing against my lips. “If you are pregnant, I want it. I want all of it—the baby, you, the changes, the mood swings, the belly, and those crazy ass cravings. I want it messy and real , just like we been doing everything else.”
My throat tightened. “But what if I’m not ready?”
“Or maybe you just think you’re not and it’s all in your head.” Imanio pressed his forehead to mine. “Either way, I’ll be ready enough for both of us.”
I closed my eyes, tears pushing behind them.
“We’ll take a test tomorrow,” he said softly. “Together. But don’t you ever think you’re in this alone. That baby—if it’s there—it’s ours. Mine to protect. Yours to carry. Ours to raise.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“You good?”
A final tic fluttered out of me—soft, almost a whisper.
“ Somebody tell my uterus it’s got backup.”
He grinned, pulled me into him, and kissed my forehead.
“Damn right it do.”