Chapter 47 Asia
I stood nervously at the airport arrival gate, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, scanning each face that emerged.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.
I hadn't seen Nyree since he'd walked out of our apartment after I told him I needed space.
After learning the truth about Isis from Bella, I had to be here.
When I saw him walking through the gate, his eyes searching the crowd, something fluttered in my chest. He looked tired, worried, but the moment his eyes found mine, his whole face lit up. Relief washed over his features, and I felt a matching sensation flow through me.
I moved toward him, and we met halfway. He dropped his carry-on bag and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. I breathed in his familiar scent, feeling the solid warmth of him against me. When we pulled apart, he leaned down and pressed a brief kiss to my lips.
"Hey," he said, his voice soft and tentative.
I stared up into his eyes. "Hey."
We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, neither of us quite knowing what to say. A sudden thought came to me as I gazed into his eyes: I didn't want to leave him. Even if he was the father of Isis's baby, I felt in my heart that we could make it work.
But a doubt crept in alongside that certainty.
If I did accept the baby, was I being a fool?
What if Nyree still had feelings for Isis?
He made it seem like all she was was a fuck-buddy from his past, but what if his mind changed once he met his son?
The boy was adorable—I'd seen the pictures Isis had plastered all over social media.
What man wouldn't feel something seeing his own child for the first time?
Nyree seemed to sense my conflict. His brow furrowed, and he gestured toward the exit.
"Want me to drive?" he asked.
I nodded, relieved at the temporary reprieve from my thoughts, and handed him my keys. He took them, then suddenly froze.
"Wait, I just remembered I parked my car here when I caught my original flight."
"Shit," I said, realizing we now had a logistical problem.
"How about I follow you back to your place, then we talk," he suggested.
I nodded wordlessly. We made our way to the parking garage, where I waited for him to retrieve his vehicle. I watched in my rearview mirror as he followed me home, my mind racing with all the things I wanted to say, all the questions I still had.
When we arrived at my apartment, we exited our cars and met in the parking lot. Nyree looked at me with concern.
"Have you gone out this whole weekend?"
I shook my head. I'd been too caught up in my own thoughts, too afraid to face anyone after I'd learned from Bella that Isis was telling everyone about her and Nyree's "reunion."
Nyree beckoned for me to come to his car. "Come on, let's get some air. We need a change of scenery."
I didn't protest. The walls of my apartment had started to feel like they were closing in on me over the past few days.
I got into his car, and we drove to a nearby park—the same one where Nyree had taken impromptu pictures of me.
We walked along the path, holding hands, neither of us speaking for a while.
Nyree broke the silence, dropping a new bomb: his mother knew about Isis and the baby for weeks.
"But I swear, I never lied to you, Asia," he said, his voice urgent, desperate for me to believe him.
"I know."
He looked surprised, stopping in his tracks to face me. "You do?"
I took a deep breath and told him about Bella overhearing Isis bragging at the hair salon about revealing Nyree's son to him out of nowhere.
"She was telling everyone how she planned it," I explained. "How she probably fucked up our engagement by telling you now."
Nyree's jaw clenched, and I could see the anger flash in his eyes. "That's fucked up."
We continued walking, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the grass.
"What are you going to do if the baby is yours, Nyree?" I voiced the question that had been weighing on both our minds. I had already asked him this before, but we needed to process it together.
Nyree stared at me for a long time before answering. "I don't know," he admitted. "But the first step is the DNA test."
I nodded. That made sense.
"Listen Asia," he continued, "I know you didn't sign up for this. Hell, I didn't either. I thought it would be me and you having a baby together, starting our family. But this shit... It just came out of nowhere. I'm so sorry, baby."
I could feel his heart in his words, the genuine regret and confusion. This wasn't his fault—he'd been blindsided just as much as I had.
"It's not your fault," I said, trying to comfort him, squeezing his hand.
I tried to see it from his perspective. What would I do if I were suddenly blindsided by a child I never knew existed?
What Isis did was fucked up on so many levels.
Not only did she deprive Nyree of knowing his son for four years, but she also deprived her son of knowing his father for his whole life.
"I know," Nyree said, "But you told me what you went through with your ex, and I was trying to show you I was nothing like that nigga. But then this happens."
I quickly corrected his concerns. "Nyree, you are nothing like Quan. I know that now."
And I meant it. Quan had lied to my face our whole relationship about his other women, his two children.
He'd made me feel crazy for questioning him, for suspecting the truth.
Nyree had never had that chance—he couldn't tell me about a child he didn't know existed.
The situations weren't comparable at all.
"The difference is that you didn't know," I added. "Quan knew what he was doing. You would have told me if you'd known about the baby, right?"
"Of course," Nyree said without hesitation. "I would never keep something like that from you. And I would never neglect my child, regardless of what happened between me and the mother."
We left the park as darkness began to fall, and I felt a renewed sense of hope, though I still didn't know how we would navigate the situation. Only time would tell. For now, it was enough to know that we were facing this together, that Nyree hadn't betrayed me, and that we still had a chance.
We picked up takeout on the way home, neither of us in the mood to cook.
We shared a quiet dinner at our kitchen table, our conversation lighter now, talking about his trip, about my work, about anything except the situation with Isis and the baby.
It was a reminder that we were still us, that we still had our life together outside of this crisis.
Later that night, as we lay in bed, I curled against Nyree's side, my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arm was wrapped around me, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my shoulder.
"I missed you," he whispered into the darkness.
"I missed you too," I replied, meaning it more than I'd realized.
Our time apart had been excruciating, filled with doubt and fear. But now, lying in his arms, I felt centered again. Whatever came next, we would face it together.
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about what it might mean to accept a child that wasn't mine, a child from Nyree's past. It wouldn't be easy with Isis seemingly determined to cause problems between us.
But as I felt Nyree's chest rise and fall beneath my cheek, I knew that what we had was worth fighting for.