Part One… #9
“You didn’t have to,” she said, pulling her hand away. “You just kept acting like everything was fine.”
AUGUST 7, 2011
Receiving the silent treatment for days had Adair kissing major ass.
Sabine could walk to the refrigerator, and he was right on her.
She would go to the bathroom, and he’d be ready to wipe her ass for her.
Couldn’t shift in bed without him asking if she was okay.
He didn’t like his wife not speaking to him, so he had to do something grand.
Something that made her believe he wouldn’t ever stay out late again, especially without calling.
So, he had to move different.
Not talk her into forgiveness. Not beg like a child.
Prove it.
He waited until she went to take a nap—because after a nap, she was always the nicest. A sleepy Sabine was a cranky Sabine.
Adair went downstairs like a man with a plan. Pulled open the fridge, grabbed what he knew she liked—pineapple, chicken breast, jasmine rice she swore tasted better than any other kind.
He didn’t know what he was doing exactly, but he’d seen his mama cook enough times to fake it. Pan too hot? Add water. Chicken sticking? Add oil. Fire too high? Turn it down. Seasoning? Go heavy—Sabine was black.
Except somewhere between the oil and the heat, the whole pan flared up. Smoke shot up to the ceiling. Fast and black with loud popping from the stove top.
Then beep-beep-BEEEEP! The smoke alarm went crazy.
“Shit, shit—damn!” Adair snatched a towel and started swinging like he was fighting off a swarm of wasps.
Pam’s bedroom door flew open upstairs and just like that, she came stomping down in a scarf, robe, and full-blown fury.
“BOY! What in the entire hell are you doing in my kitchen?!”
Adair coughed through the haze. “I was cookin’—”
“Burnin’ is more like it!”
“I was tryin’ to—damn, Ma!” He jumped back as she yanked the pan off the eye.
“Don’t 'damn Ma' me. You done ruined my good nonstick pan, Adair. My T-FAL! Look at this shit!”
She scraped the black gunk with a spoon. “You don’t never touch my cookware again, you hear me?!”
The kitchen smelled like smoke and defeat.
Then they heard her.
“...What’s going on?”
Sabine’s voice, quiet at first, floated down the stairs before she appeared in the doorway—barefoot, hair puffed and wild from sleep. She had on one of Adair’s old shirts and nothing else. Her small baby bump was peeking through the cotton, just visible enough to make him freeze.
She was guarding her belly without thinking. The way she always did now. Like her body remembered to protect it even when she didn’t mean to.
And God, she looked good.
No makeup, no effort, no filter.
Just her.
Her. And his baby.
Adair knew, right then, he was acting like a fool. Risking all of this—for what? A night out? He’d been selfish. Stupid. He could’ve lost her.
“I was tryna cook for you,” he mumbled, eyes down as he scraped burnt rice out the pan with a spoon.
Pam popped him with a dishrag. “Gimme that! Scrappin’ up another one of good pots now!”
Sabine stood by the table, arms crossed now, watching both of them with sleepy eyes.
“Why were you trying to cook, Adair?” she asked. “You know you can’t cook.”
“I...I wanted us to have a nice dinner,” he said, voice soft.
“And talk. I was gonna tell you how much I love you...and that I want to be married. I know I fucked up movin’ like I ain’t have you and my baby at home.
But I see it now. And I won’t ever take you for granted again.
” He paused before continuing. “I was gonna tell you you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.
And I don’t wanna be nowhere that don’t got you in it. ”
Sabine stared at him.
Then suddenly—soft step, two steps more—she crossed the kitchen and walked straight into his chest. Stood on her toes and kissed him hard, like she’d been holding it in for days. Like her lips had been waiting on his apology to finally unlock.
Adair’s hands found her waist, right beneath the curve of her belly and he held her like something holy. Pam watched from the stove, arms folded tight.
“Mhm,” she muttered, turning away. “Let it be a next time, and I’ma fuck you up for her.”
SEPTEMBER 3, 2011
Adair and Sabine had been in marital bliss once again since he slipped up. He promised it was the first and last time—which he’d proven. No late nights. No missed calls. No dumb lies. He was back in her pocket, where he belonged.
They were set to leave for New York next week, so today they were heading to their last prenatal appointment there, at home.
“You nervous?” Adair asked, eyes on the road.
“No,” Sabine said, quick. Then, “Maybe.”
He smirked. “Thought you was the calm one.”
“I am calm. I just…I don’t like hospitals. Or doctors. Or needles. And I don’t prefer people touching me unless I know they are clean.”
Adair laughed. “They clean, Bine.”
“Not all of them.”
He reached over, rubbed her thigh gently with the back of his hand. “You gon’ be alright.”
Sabine didn’t say anything to that, but she laid her hand on top of his, and that was more than enough to bring her comfort.
At the office, everything moved slow. They were ten minutes early but still waited thirty-five. Sabine filled out the paperwork like she always did—neat handwriting. Adair signed the bottom line of something without reading it. He just knew she’d look it over twice already.
When they were finally called in, Sabine sat on the exam table, shirt lifted, paper drape crinkling beneath her, and Adair pulled the chair close like he always did.
The doppler gel made her jump.
“Let’s see what this little one’s up to,” the tech stated, excited for the new parents. She loved doing ultrasounds, especially for first-time parents.
It took a second but then came the sound—steady and strong.
Whump. Whump. Whump. Whump.
Adair looked at the monitor like he could see through it. Like the sound itself was telling him something only he could hear.
“That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” the tech smiled. “Nice and strong.
Sabine didn’t move. Could barely breathe.
And Adair…he was looking at her.
Like it was her heartbeat he was hearing. This never got old. He couldn’t believe that sound was what their love created.
Whump. Whump. Whump. Whump.
“Damn,” he whispered. “That’s us in there.”
Sabine nodded, tears blurring at the corners but not falling.
“Y’all are measuring right on track,” the nurse said. “About twenty weeks now. Do you want to know the sex?”
They looked at each other.
Adair shrugged. “Up to you, baby.”
Sabine chewed her lip for a second, then shook her head. “Can you write it down for us so I can give it to his mom? She wanted to do a gender reveal.” She stated and Adair blew his breath hoping she forgot when her and Pam had that conversation.
“Of course, I’m gonna print some pictures—I would suggest not to look because the sex is obvious on a couple of them.”
“Thank you,” Adair said, while wiping the jelly off of Sabine’s belly then he leaned down and kissed it. Right in the center. “I love you.”
SEPTEMBER 5, 2011
The backyard smelled like charcoal, barbecue and…love. There were tables with blue and pink cloths, each with a centerpiece which was a bowl where guests placed their guesses of Sabine and Adair’s baby gender.
The balloon arch near right as you walked outside, looked like it came straight out of a catalog, perfectly arranged in alternating hues, framing a custom wooden sign that read “He or She? Wait and See.”
Lights were strung overhead—soft golden ones that would glow warm when the sun started to dip—and in the corner, a little speaker played Anita Baker low enough not to drown the laughter.
It wasn’t super flashy but it was done right. Pam had made sure of that. Because her grandbaby deserved a proper welcome. And Sabine—well, she was family now. For real.
It was thoughtful, homey…beautiful.
And most of all, it felt like love.
Sabine…she just stood on the back porch for a second, taking it all in.
“You good?” Adair whispered behind her, slipping a hand low across her belly and she nodded, a smile curling up. “Yeah.” He kissed her cheek, then went to snatch the tongs from his drunk ass uncle before he burned the burgers again.
Sabine stayed back, one hand rubbing her bump, the other gripping a half-full cup of lemonade. Her heart felt too big in her chest. All this—this laughter, these people, this love—it was everything she didn’t know she needed.
But at the same time, there was a quiet ache at the center of it all.
Not a single cousin from her side had showed up.
Not even a text. Not even to say congratulations and they knew.
They knew she’d gotten married and was pregnant because she didn’t hide it on social media.
Although, it hurt, she couldn’t blame everyone for picking the more beneficial side.
More importantly, her mother wasn’t there. Neither was her father. Parents should big the bigger person when grandchildren come into play but not stubborn Charles Knight.
They hadn’t spoken since he hit her but still…he was her father. Since Sabine stood her ground and told them she wasn’t leaving her husband just because they couldn’t get over where he came from. Or how they didn’t like the way he talked. Or the fact that he didn’t come from a family with a “name.”
But Adair was her everything.
And if choosing him meant losing them, she made peace with that a long time ago.
Still. It stung a little.
Just a little.
Especially on days like this.
“Come on, Bine!” Reeka called out from the yard. “We ready!”