3. Sawyer #2
I swung my head. “No. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? You’re extra quiet tonight.”
Here’s your chance, Sawyer. Put on your big girl panties and tell this nigga the truth!
I twisted my lips to the side. “Just tired from the long flight, that’s all.”
Kareem dipped his chin, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t picking up what I was putting down. “You sure you don’t want a drink?”
“Alcohol will only make me sleepier,” I said, eyeing the view of the ocean over his shoulder. “I’m good with my bottled water.”
The waiter reappeared to clear our plates from the table. Once he was gone, Kareem leaned forward, resting his elbows on the linen.
“I don’t care what you say. You’re not just tired, shawty. There’s something different about you.”
“You always read people this good?” I quizzed, trying to deflect from my own insecurities.
He tilted his head. “Only when I know you bullshittin’ me.”
My next breath caught in my throat as my eyes met his. He wasn’t accusatory—he was just observant. Intentionally. Perceptively. It was in his nature.
I finally blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“Because nothing you do gets past me, shawty. Your eyes have been bouncing around this entire restaurant, avoiding eye contact with me for more than a few seconds at a time since you got here. You ain’t touch a drop of liquor.
And you’ve touched your stomach like four times since you sat your pretty ass down.
You want me to keep going, or you ready to tell a nigga the truth? ”
I swallowed the bowling ball-sized lump in my throat. For a second, everything blurred. I reached for my bottle of water, chugging it as I felt the truth burning on the tip of my tongue.
“Kareem . . .” I squeaked out shakily as I set the bottle down.
He stared me down as if he’d been collecting the missing pieces to my puzzle and piecing it together since the moment I arrived. “You’re pregnant.”
Silence.
Deafening silence.
I hadn’t even opened my mouth, and somehow, Kareem had seen right through me like I was transparent. Every movement, every choice I’d made since stepping into his presence—he’d read like a fucking map.
My eyes welled up with tears as I nodded. “Yes.”
He didn’t blink. Didn’t look away. Just continued to stare. “Is it mine?”
I nodded again. That time, Kareem leaned back in his chair, exhaling as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time.
My hands trembled as I reached for my bottled water again, suddenly thirsty as hell all over again. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t even know if I should. But I couldn’t keep it from you. Not after I got that ticket in the mail.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah, Kareem. I’m serious.”
A few more beats of silence passed between us before he spoke again. “Okay.”
I studied him. I didn’t know what type of response I expected, but one word wasn’t it. “That’s all you have to say?”
Kareem drew in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “There are a lot of things swirling around in a nigga’s head right now, and I’m not trying to say the wrong thing.”
“Which is?”
His eyes stood guard, watching me with raw authenticity. “That I wish I’d sent that ticket to you sooner. That I wish I’d been there when you found out. That I don’t know what type of father I’ll be, but I’m here. You got me.”
Hearing his words made me feel an odd fusion of relief and terror.
I was relieved that the secret was out, and I wasn’t alone.
But that terror? It was real—embedded under my skin like a permanent tattoo.
Kareem was a felon on the run. What would happen if our glimpse of a happily ever after turned into a nightmare?
My eyes traveled from his expression down to his hand resting on the edge of the table. He hadn’t reached for me yet, and I hadn’t reached for him. Instead, I went into my purse and pulled out the folded sonogram. I paused for a second before sliding it across the table.
“Here. I didn’t want it just to be words.”
I watched Kareem slowly unfold and stare at the grainy, black-and-white image.
In the center was a tiny, baby-shaped figure curled up, floating in the darkness of my womb.
He stared at it for a while, silent as he held it like a glass egg in his calloused hands.
Kareem didn’t blink. He studied it as if he was trying to commit everything about it to memory.
“Wow . . . We made a whole kid,” he muttered, his voice low, almost awed.
I bobbed my head. “Crazy, right?”
“I’ve done a lot of shit in my life,” he acknowledged. “Some of it I regret, others I’d do again. But this . . . I don’t know, shawty. This hits different, like the first thing that’s ever made perfect sense to a nigga.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. What made you wanna keep it?”
I paused. “I-I don’t know. I mean, I won’t lie and say the thought didn’t skip past my mind, but I knew I couldn’t go through with something like that. Are you mad that I did?”
“Nah. If I had to have a kid with anybody, I’m glad it’s you.”
He finally set the sonogram back on the table and exhaled slowly and deeply. Then he looked at me in a way that revealed the vulnerability behind his eyes.
“You wanna know something?” he quizzed, his gaze fixed on mine.
“Yeah.”
“When I sent you that ticket, there was a part of me that didn’t think you’d come.”
“Why not?”
“Same reason as you. I figured there was a high chance you’d moved on and forgot about a nigga.”
My brows lifted toward my laid baby hairs. “Seriously?”
He belted out a soft chuckle that sounded more humbled than hilarious.
“Yeah. I mean, I knew what it was when we said goodbye in Tampa. Disappearing was my way of handling things. You know that was always the plan. I told myself I was good with just having some wild ass memories to look back on if I couldn’t have you.
I figured a better nigga would’ve stepped up to fill the void. Someone safer for you.”
My chest rose and fell with a hard sigh. Most men gave me trust issues. Kareem gave me butterflies.
“Now look at me, soul tied to a demon,” I replied with a soft chuckle.
Kareem laughed. “No bullshit. I kept imagining you with some clean-cut nigga that graduated college. Somebody who whips a Hybrid, has a real retirement plan, and ain’t always looking over his shoulder. I should’ve known you’d always double back to a nigga like me.”
“There was never another guy after you. Just me and this baby. And a whole lot of wondering if I’d ever hear from you again.”
He finally reached for my hand, and it felt like sparks went off as he brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m glad you didn’t move on, shawty, because I didn’t either, and now I know why.”
I stepped out of the restaurant with my fingers laced with Kareem’s, feeling ten times lighter than I had before I arrived. The night air was warm as we walked side by side down the street, neither of us rushing to speak. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was comforting. At least for me, it was.
“You good?” Kareem inquired gently.
I nodded, then shook my head in contradiction. “I don’t know. A part of me feels fine. The other feels like I just jumped off a fucking cliff every time I think about being someone’s parent in six months.”
He glanced at me with a soft laugh. “Same.”
We reached the edge of the street, where the taxis were waiting. He hesitated before turning to me. “Do you wanna head back to my place, or do you wanna walk some more?”
“Is it okay if we walk?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
We wandered through the narrow streets, my gladiator sandals clicking and clacking against the pavement with each step. Kareem remained close like a shadow, pointing out different places nearby that he’d frequent for one reason or another.
“Y’know, all I kept thinking about after I found out I was pregnant was how my entire future changed in one weekend. First, the hurricane canceled my trip. Then I came home and found you in my apartment. And . . . now this .”
Kareem slowed his pace. “I know this shit is heavy, but I’m here now. The man in me will never letchu carry the load alone.”
I exhaled, feeling the tension melt from my lean shoulders. “Even though it’s messy?”
“Especially then. I’ve never been scared to fuck around and find out,” he stated confidently.
We paused under a dimly lit streetlamp. And for the first time since I found out I was going to be a mother, I felt something close to solace.
Still, I knew the cold reality still lingered beneath the surface.
I stared at him, noticing the glow of his handsome profile illuminated by the streetlamp—his long, wispy lashes, bearded jawline, and full, curved lips.
“How would this even work?” I blurted out.
His brows slightly rose. “Whatchu mean?”
I sighed. “You. Me. This baby. You can’t go back to the States, Kareem, and I live there. My entire life is there.”
He didn’t respond right away. He chose to keep walking instead, allowing his silence to stretch between us like a rubber band as I trekked beside him.
“I’ve been thinking about that since you showed me that fuckin’ sonogram,” he finally answered.
“Even before that, actually. I know I can’t go back.
Not without cuffs and a cell waiting for me the moment I set foot back on U.S. soil.”
I dipped my chin. “So what does that mean . . . y’know, for us?”
“It means I gotta continue to build what I’m building here. Something safe for you and for the baby. That is, if you want it.”
I stopped walking. “Kareem, are you seriously asking me to leave everything behind when I just told you my entire life was in the U.S.?”
He turned to me. “I’m asking you to choose what feels right to you, shawty. Not what’s easy. I been told you I know this shit is heavy, but we’re both gonna have to make sacrifices if we both want this.”
A flame of sadness ignited in my chest as I thought about my apartment back in Jacksonville.
My dog. My job. My family and friends. My entire fucking life.
And then I thought about the baby growing bigger and bigger inside me every day.
The baby that was half the man’s standing in front of me.
Kareem hadn’t run from the truth when he found out he was going to be a father.
Instead, he’d fucked around and offered me a new life, one I wasn’t sure I was ready for with so many other changes already on my plate.
I sighed. “You’re right, this shit is far from easy.”
Kareem reached for my hand as we stood in the middle of the street with no roadmap of the future and certainly no guarantees or crystal balls.
Our eyes locked, and in that moment, the months we’d spent apart didn’t seem to matter.
The light above us casted a soft halo, catching the luster of his bearded jaw.
He wrapped one hand around my waist, his fingertips lingering as if he was relearning everything about me.
My hand found the left side of his hard chest, resting over his steady heartbeat.
Without speaking, our lips found each other.
The kiss was slow upon contact, like a silent conversation between our lips that said all the things we couldn’t.
But it quickly deepened with an urgent need to feel each other again.
His hand cradled my soft jawline as my hand slid from his chest to around his waist. His kiss tasted like a whispered birthday wish you weren’t sure would ever come true, and like every sleepless night I’d spent thinking about if I’d ever hear from him again. I never wanted it to end.
When our lips finally parted, Kareem pressed his forehead against mine. “Listen, the baby isn’t going to be here tomorrow, so we don’t have to have all the answers today,” he muttered. “Right now, all I wanna do is get you back to my place and show you how much I’ve missed you.”
“Then let’s go home.”