Chapter 163
“Branch, have a seat,” a black male correctional officer commanded.
Stoically, Too Low sat opposite of me.
For a good five minutes, we sat there awkwardly, saying nothing.
Eventually, he cleared his throat. “So, are just gonna sit there and cry?”
I sniveled. “What else you want me to do?”
He angrily curled his lips, and leaned forward. “Tell me how the fuck this happened.”
I sighed. “You’on want that.”
He frowned. “How the fuck are you gonna tell me what the fuck I want? Huh?”
“Cause,” I inhaled, as a few more tears slipped from my eyes. “Come on, Babi. Don’t sit there acting like you can’t talk. This
shit has gone too far. You sitting there fucking pregnant. So, don’t mince your words now. Tell me what the fuck happened. Cause Ion wanna spend another night, overthinking, wondering what I did. At least put me out of my misery. Tell me what happened.”
I took a deep breath. “Well, first of all…I don’t wanna do the blame game. Or act like you deserved what happened. Because that’s definitely not the case. And I apologize for what I did. I was wrong.”
His nostrils flared, as he nodded. “But that nigga—”
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t do that. Cause it really aint about him.”
His scowl deepened. “Oh, it aint?”
“No.” I licked my lips. “Whatever the issue was…started before I laid eyes on him.”
“What chu mean?”
I sighed. “You remember the first time I asked you when you was gonna stop hustling?”