9. Building a Legacy
I’ve known something was different about Milla for about a week now.
Daily sex once a day turned into her sexting me to meet her in the break room of her shop for a quickie.
Not that I was complaining. After twenty-four years of prison visits, phone calls, and imagining what it would feel like to finally wake up beside her every morning? Hell yeah, I was addicted to my woman.
But this felt different. Camilla was more emotional and needier in the most feminine and tender way. Camilla had always been affectionate, always touchy. My Millie Millz would crawl inside my skin if I let her. But lately? That woman wouldn’t let me breathe alone.
If I went to the kitchen? She followed me. If I sat on the couch? She climbed into my lap. If I showered? Suddenly, she “needed” to brush her teeth.
And tonight, she damn near climbed on top of me before I fully shut the bedroom door.
I laughed softly against her mouth while her hands slid underneath my T-shirt.
“You getting greedy, Millie Millz.”
“Maybe.”
“Mhm.” I kissed her slowly. “You sure you ain’t trying to kill me?”
Camilla smiled against my lips before pushing me backward toward the bed.
This woman was beautiful. Her long silk press hung down her back, and the strap of her tank top was falling off one of her shoulders.
She wore tiny sleep shorts that were riding high against her thick ass thighs.
I was damn near obsessed. Camilla began kissing me more deeply this time, and immediately I noticed it again.
She was super sensitive to my touch. As soon as I rubbed her shoulder, she began to whimper, and I could feel her dampness through her shorts.
I peeped the way her body seemed extra sensitive beneath my hands lately.
My brows furrowed slightly against her mouth. “Baby,” I murmured quietly. “You okay?”
“Mhm.”
“You sure?”
She nodded quickly before kissing me again harder, but she was kissing me too quickly, as if she was trying to silence me with her kisses.
That made me pause mentally. Because Millie had a tell whenever she answered too fast.
She was hiding something. My hands slid slowly along her thighs while her breathing deepened against my mouth. And somewhere between her clinging to me like she needed reassurance and the way she melted every time I touched her stomach lately, the thought hit me: Is my baby pregnant?
I pulled back from the kiss slightly.
Camilla noticed immediately and frowned. “What?” she whispered.
I studied her face carefully. “Have you had your period since I've been home?”
Her entire body froze. She groaned instantly before hiding her face against my neck. “No period, Sherlock Holmes.”
I barked out laughing softly while wrapping my arms tighter around her.
“How late?”
“Four weeks now.”
I leaned back enough to look at her again.
And suddenly everything started making sense.
She would run to the bathroom, like she was freshening up, and turn on the water.
Milla was nauseous. I thought about her exhaustion and how my Millie Millz, whom I used to call a little thug, was now a cry baby.
Her clinginess and the way she’s been looking at me lately, like she’s carrying secrets in her chest, all make sense.
My hand slid unconsciously toward her stomach. Camilla watched me carefully afterward. She looked nervous, but I didn’t understand what would make her this scared.
“I didn’t wanna tell you before I knew,” she admitted quietly.
“You think I’d be upset?”
“No.” She shook her head quickly. “But—”
“But what?”
Her eyes dropped away from mine briefly.
“You’re thinking about running for mayor, and we’re not married, and the fact that I’m forty-four and I have PCOS. So what if the pregnancy isn’t even viable? What if something goes wrong?”
“Shhhhhh.” I wrapped my arms around her and allowed my baby to pour all of her fears into my chest.
I touched her face gently, making her look at me again. “Camilla.”
Her eyes softened instantly, hearing me say her full name.
“I do not give a damn about politics more than I give a damn about you.”
Emotion flickered across her face immediately.
“And if you are pregnant?” I continued quietly. “Our baby is already loved before they even get here.”
More tears filled her eyes so fast it almost took me out.
“Milla—”
“I’m hormonal,” she warned immediately.
I laughed softly, kissing her forehead. “You're dramatic, but I love you.”
“Unfortunately.” She smiled shakily before resting against my chest again.
I held her tighter after that because something deep in my spirit already knew.
As Milla slept, I thought more seriously about this chance to potentially do my whole life over.
Yes, I had Jazzy, AJ, JoJo, and Mir, but my legacy had always been what I could provide despite being in prison for twenty-four years.
I needed someone to look at me and not see the system or the four walls that kept me bound.
I wanted the opportunity for a child to look up to me and see me do something that helped the world rather than hurt it.
So while Camilla thought this pregnancy would make me not want to run for mayor, it was actually what would make me do it if she were pregnant.
Camilla made me wait until the next morning to buy the test. She said she just wanted me to hold her and at least eight more hours to mentally prepare. Meanwhile, I was losing my damn mind quietly. Because once the thought settled into my head, I couldn’t shake it.
A baby. Mine and Milla’s baby. At forty-seven years old, after prison stole most of my life and robbed me of the opportunity of being a present father, somehow, God might still be giving me another chance at fatherhood.
That thought humbled me so bad I barely slept.
By eight in the morning, I was already dressed and standing in the kitchen, drinking coffee while Camilla sat wrapped in my hoodie, looking terrified at the island counter.
“Millie Millz?”
“Mhm?”
“You know I love you regardless, right?”
Her eyes softened immediately.
“I know.”
“No matter what that test says. I did some research, and I found out that the older we are, the more risks for complications, but it doesn’t matter whether our baby has complications or not, I will love you and our family with everything in me.”
“I know,” she whispered again.
Still, her fingers trembled slightly around the coffee mug.
Damn.
I hated seeing fear on her face. Especially because I understood it now. When you lost so much, you couldn’t help but beg God or the universe or whatever the fuck you believed in for some mercy.
I crouched beside her chair, slowly resting my arms against her thighs. “You want me to go get it?”
Camilla nodded immediately. “Please. We can test after the boys leave for school.”
“Okay.”
“And Jare?”
“What?”
“Don’t buy eighty tests.”
I blinked. “You know me too well.”
“That’s because you’re dramatic.”
“Okay, pot calling the kettle black.” I grabbed my keys twenty minutes later and drove to the closest pharmacy, feeling like my chest was too tight for my body.
Nothing ever made me feel this nervous. Funny enough, prison taught men how to survive certainty.
But this? This was hope. Hope was scarier.
When I got there, I bought four pregnancy tests, some ginger ale, and crackers to settle her stomach, and some prenatal vitamins after panicking in aisle seven, just in case.
By the time I got back home, I looked like somebody preparing for a damn apocalypse.
Camilla burst out laughing the second she saw the bags.
“Jared!”
“What?”
“You bought vitamins already?”
“I panicked.”
She laughed harder.
I loved making Milla bellyache laugh. Even nervous, she still looked beautiful sitting there in my hoodie with sleep still lingering in her eyes.
“Come here,” I muttered softly.
Camilla walked into my arms immediately. I love that my baby always trusted me. I held her close, kissing the top of her head slowly.
“You ready to take this test?”
“No.” She groaned against my chest dramatically. “This feels sick.”
She leaned in close to my chest. “Jare, why is your heart beating so hard?”
“Cause I’m scared, too.”
That made her look up at me immediately.
“You scared?”
“Milla.” I exhaled slowly. “I missed damn near all of Jazzy growing up.” My hand slid along her back gently. “The idea of getting another chance at this?”
My voice cracked slightly before I could stop it. Camilla’s entire face softened instantly.
“Aww baby—”
I looked away briefly, trying to swallow emotions fast.
Camilla touched my face carefully.
“You are already a good father.”
“ I still missed a lot.”
“You didn’t choose that.”
Maybe not. But it still felt like grief anyway. Camilla kissed me softly. Then she pulled back, taking a deep breath.
She disappeared down the hallway a second later while I paced the kitchen like a damn psychopath.
Three minutes felt like thirty. Five minutes felt like prison time again. And when Camilla finally opened the bathroom door, holding the test in shaking hands? My whole body went still.
Her eyes met mine immediately. “Jare—”
That was all she got out before I crossed the room.
“You pregnant?” I whispered.
Camilla nodded.
And just like that? My entire life changed.
For a second, I couldn’t even speak. I just stood there staring at the test in Camilla’s shaking hand while my brain tried to catch up to what my heart already knew.
My Millie Millz was carrying my baby. A laugh broke out of me before I could stop it, because joy hit my chest so hard it almost felt painful.
Camilla started crying immediately afterward.
“Milla—”
“I’m happy,” she sobbed, laughing at the same time. “I’m just scared, too.”
I pulled her against my chest instantly. “Come here.”
She wrapped herself around me immediately while I held her tighter than I probably ever had before in my life.
And honestly, I think part of me was holding the younger version of us, too. The version that lost so much time, yet somehow still found its way back here.