Chapter 12
After a few hours of chilling at home, I decided to head on over to Brixton’s. I knew he wouldn’t be there, because Wednesday was the day that he had physical therapy on his left ankle. I planned to get the great room set up, then I would leave Brixton’s keys and walk away from the job.
I felt bad about not finishing his bedroom, but the whole ordeal was taking an emotional toll on me that I didn’t need.
Wanting him the way I did, having to be in his house with his things, smelling his scent and feeling his presence—there was no way those mental gymnastics could be good for my baby.
It took way longer than I anticipated for the movers to get things set-up.
Part of it was my fault. Me and my pregnancy brain were indecisive as hell.
I had them placing, moving, replacing, shifting, and all sorts of madness before I was finally satisfied with the end result.
When Brixton walked into his place after a long day, he would be greeted by a well-appointed, neutral space that offered function, comfort, and a touch of coziness.
I set his key on the kitchen island, picked up my purse, and headed for the front door. I stopped momentarily to fluff the leaves of the faux olive tree I put in his foyer. The door opened and in walked Brixton.
Dayum! If I had just left five minutes earlier. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He looked me up and down critically, purse in hand. “Where you going?” He looked past me into the great room. “Yo.” A smile broke out on his unfairly handsome face.
Dayum!
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the great room. From where we stood, we could see the living and dining areas. We could also see the kitchen.
“It looks good as hell, Ry.” He released me, walked over to the living room, and ran his hand over the fabric of the sofa. It was a soft and textured performance chenille in a very pale camel color.
I watched as he made his way to the dining table. It was made of a gorgeous white pine. It sat six people without the leaf and eight to ten with it.
He approached me, pulling me into a hug before I could react. I gently removed myself from his embrace. “I’m glad you like it.”
He stared at me silently for a few beats, then spoke. “What’s up with us, Ry? I feel… tension. I don’t like it. Is it me? Is it something I did? ’Cause if it is, I wanna fucking fix it. This dynamic is unsustainable. This isn’t us.”
I wanted to respond, but I felt myself getting worked up. I felt the same feelings start to build that I felt the day before when I had that panic attack. I took in a deep breath.
“Let me just ask you this. Did you blow off finishing my project to go kick it with old boy I saw you on social media with?”
I took another deep breath and felt myself begin to calm down.
That was an easy question. I could answer that one.
“Nah. I didn’t even know him. I met him last night at the game.
It was his suite.” I paused, deciding to just put everything on the table because holding the feelings in was clearly causing me anxiety.
“But I did agree to go out with Zyah and Amari to get a break—”
“A break from what?”
I huffed out a sigh. “A break from you, Brix. A break from wanting somebody who doesn’t want me. This whole unrequited love thing we have going on. It’s old and it makes me feel stupid… and like shit.”
He took my hand, pulling me to the kitchen island. Once we were there, he turned me around, facing him. “Up.” Before I knew it, he was lifting me and sitting me on the island. From this position, we were almost eye to eye.
“Ry, what the fuck? You’re supposed to be my rowdy girl, baby. You’re supposed to talk to me and tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I know.”
“Instead, you’re holding all this stuff in and throwing yourself into panic attacks.
Don’t do that.” He rested his head on my shoulder, and I held him there.
“I’m sorry you felt confused, or scared, or neglected, or any of that shit.
That was never my intention, baby. My intention was to support you while giving you space at the same time. ”
“That’s the problem. I never wanted the space, Brix. I never asked for no fucking space. We were good. You were making me feel exactly what I needed to feel from you, then you pulled away from me.”
I listened to his deep sigh. “Your dad called you one day while I was asleep on the sofa.”
I immediately knew what he was referencing. “You heard that conversation?”
“I heard that conversation. And I thought he made some valid points. He didn’t want my presence in your life to be so overwhelming that your future man, or future husband, couldn’t get in.”
“What future man? How far into the future was he talking? Fuck a future man that doesn’t exist!” I basically yelled.
I was surprised when Brixton chuckled. “This pregnancy got you getting hotter than fish grease at a moment’s notice. You’re going from one to one thousand quick as hell.”
His words hit home and I chuckled too. “This pregnancy is making me mean. I slapped Zyah’s hand so hard when she touched my stomach the other day.
I don’t even know why I did that. Of all the people that try to touch my stomach, I definitely don’t mind her doing it.
” I took a breath. “Brix, I don’t like that you heard the things my daddy said, but I really don’t like that you didn’t tell me you heard what my daddy said.
We could’ve talked about this, and I could’ve told you that he doesn’t know our relationship, or the way we handle each other.
And if you had talked to me, I could’ve spent that time getting my foot massages and having a warm body lying next to me at night. ”
“True.” His tone was thoughtful. “But at the time, I wasn’t ready to admit that spending all that time wrapped up with you was blurring all kinds of lines between us.
Holding you at night, getting the full Ryann experience?
You weren’t just the woman carrying my baby.
You were the woman working her way into my life… into my heart.
“I didn’t want to put the pressure of having to manage my feelings on you.
I’m a man. I need to be able to manage my own feelings.
I felt like stepping away would help me do that.
Spoiler alert: that shit didn’t help at all.
It just showed me that my feelings weren’t based on proximity. They’re based on something deeper.”
He stepped between my open thighs, and I promise, my girl gave a “meow.” Somehow, I managed to hold it together, barely.
“Can you forgive me for not telling you that I overheard the conversation? Can you forgive me for pulling back when I should’ve been pressing forward?”
His hands dug into my thighs, causing me to almost liquify right there on the kitchen island. I wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or the fact that I hadn’t had dick in so long. I was dripping wet just from his apology in combination with his touch. “Okay.”
“You’re not only giving me my princess, you’ve been giving me so much of you. And the more you give, the more I want. I’m not sure what to do with that dynamic.”
“Lean into it,” I offered.
He considered me. “You sure about that?”
“Would you really want to?”
“I really want to,” he assured me as he leaned in and kissed my lips.
I wanted to stay there in the sweet moment, but I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I can’t let you forget that I’m broken. The only reason we connected in the first place is because I’m broken.”
“Don’t say that. Words have power. Don’t speak no shit like that over yourself. Over your body, or over my daughter. You’re not broken.”
“I am broken, Brix. Broken, not whole. Did you forget what it took to get this pregnancy? I’m probably not gonna be able to have another one. You deserve a house filled with babies.”
“I deserve the woman who makes my heart do weird shit in my chest. You know what I deserve? Somebody who makes sure that I hold the same importance in their life that they hold in mine. I deserve to not be fucked around on. To be enough. For once in my life, I want to be enough. If you tell me I’m enough for you…
then I’m all yours, Ry. Fuck them imaginary babies.
I don’t need them. All I need is you and my princess.
If it’s meant for us to have more children down the line, God will make it happen.
If it’s not and you keep being you, keep making my heart act up, I’m cool.
I’m cool. All I want is your love. Your heart.
Your faithfulness. Fuck them imaginary kids. ”
I didn’t know I was crying until he reached over and brushed some tears from my cheek. “I’m pretty sure I could love you forever, Brix. You’re so easy to love.”
“Damn. You know you’re the first person to ever say that?” he admitted.
He pulled me close and I rested on him. My heart finally felt easy.
The gnawing in my stomach finally ceased and I finally inhaled.
Everything was falling into place, and I was getting everything I prayed for.
I was happy and scared. “Fuck your parents for being negligent and self-absorbed. And fuck Adrianna for fumbling your heart. It’s mine now and I’m not letting it go. ”
“I’mma trust you to hold it, but you gotta give me yours, too. I’m tired as hell of going to sleep and waking up with you just on my mind and not in my arms.”
Two weeks later, right before the start of the regular season, Brixton decided that he wanted to take me on a babymoon/birthday trip.
My birthday was on Sunday. The plan was that we would return on that day, but I didn’t mind.
I was too ecstatic about the babymoon aspect because I wasn’t sure this wouldn’t be my only pregnancy, so I wanted to experience everything.
“Where are we going?” I asked for the one hundredth time.
“You’ll see.” It was the same response he’d given every time I asked.