18. TRUTH
TRUTH
Two weeks later
The house smelled like lemon pound cake and coffee.
I’d spent the morning cleaning, arranging furniture, and making sure everything looked perfect for my sisters’ visit. The brick two-story on Mimosa Ct. was mine—truly mine—and I wanted them to see it. To see that I was building something real.
That I wasn’t just surviving anymore.
I was living.
The doorbell rang, and I heard Raven’s voice before I even opened the door.
“Girl, if you don’t hurry up and let us in!”
I pulled the door open, grinning, and was immediately engulfed in a wave of perfume, laughter, and sisterly chaos.
Raven came in first, her box braids swinging as she looked around with wide eyes. “Okay, okay, I see you! This is cute as hell, Truth.”
Saroya followed, balancing a casserole dish in one hand and her purse in the other. “You did good, baby. Real good.”
Honor brought up the rear, her eyes scanning the space with the practiced efficiency of someone who’d learned to assess situations quickly. “It’s nice. Real nice. You got good bones in this house.”
I closed the door behind them and exhaled, feeling the warmth of their presence settle into the space. This was what I’d needed. Family. Normalcy. A reminder that I wasn’t alone in all this chaos.
“Y’all want the tour?” I asked.
“Hell yes,” Raven said, already heading toward the living room. “I want to see everything.”
I led them through the house, pointing out the updates I’d made—the fresh paint in the living room, the new curtains in the kitchen, the way the light came through the windows in the afternoon.
They oohed and aahed in all the right places, and I felt a swell of pride in my chest.
This was mine.
I’d done this.
We ended up in the kitchen, where I poured coffee and sliced the lemon pound cake Saroya had brought. The conversation flowed easily—Saroya’s kids, Honor’s husband Terrance getting out of county next week, Raven’s drama at the salon.
It felt normal.
Safe.
Until it didn’t.
“So,” Raven said, leaning back in her chair and eyeing me over the rim of her coffee cup. “How you holding up with all this baby daddy drama?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Don’t start.”
“I’m serious!” Raven grinned. “You got two baby daddies, Truth. That’s some reality TV shit.”
Saroya snorted. “Girl, hush.”
“I’m just saying!” Raven threw her hands up. “How many people you know got two fine-ass rich men fighting over them and a baby?”
“It’s not like that,” I said, but I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
Honor leaned forward, her expression more serious. “How is it, then? Because from where we’re sitting, it looks messy as hell.”
I sighed and set my coffee cup down. “It’s been a lot. But I’m maintaining. I’m focused on protecting my baby and making sure I don’t get caught up in their family’s bullshit.”
The room went quiet.
Too quiet.
I looked up and found all three of my sisters staring at me with identical expressions of shock.
“What?” I asked.
“You just said ‘my baby,’” Saroya said slowly.
“So?”
“So,” Raven said, leaning forward, “you’re supposed to be a surrogate, Truth. That baby ain’t supposed to be yours.”
My stomach dropped.
I hadn’t even realized what I’d said.
“I just meant—” I started, but Honor cut me off.
“Nah. Don’t backtrack now. You said what you said.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
Because they were right.
I had said “my baby.” Been saying it a lot lately.
And I’d meant it.
“Truth,” Saroya said gently, “are you getting attached to this baby?”
I looked down at my hands, my throat tight. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean—it’s complicated.”
“It’s not complicated,” Raven said. “You’re either attached or you’re not.”
“I’m carrying this baby,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m the one dealing with the morning sickness, the exhaustion, and the fear. I’m the one whose body is changing. How am I not supposed to get attached?”
Honor reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “We get that, baby. We do. But you need to be real with yourself about what’s happening here.”
“I am being real.”
“Are you?” Raven asked. “Because it sounds like you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.”
“I’m not—”
“Come on,” Raven said, standing. “Show us the nursery.”
I hesitated, my heart pounding. “Why?”
“Because I want to see it. And we can tell by the way you’re talkin’ that you have one. We’re your sisters. We know ya ass.”
I led them upstairs, my hands trembling slightly as I opened the door to the second bedroom.
The nursery was perfect.
Soft sage green walls. White crib with a matching dresser and changing table. A mobile with stars and moons hanging above. Shelves stocked with diapers, wipes, baby lotion, and tiny clothes folded neatly in the drawers.
Everything was ready.
Everything was mine.
Raven let out a low whistle. “Girl.”
“What?” I asked defensively.
“I told you,” Raven said, turning to face me. “I told your ass you wasn’t going to be able to give that baby up.”
“I can—”
“No, you can’t.” Raven gestured around the room. “Look at this, Truth. You built a whole nursery. You got clothes and diapers and a damn mobile. This ain’t a surrogate situation anymore. This is your baby.”
“It’s not like that,” I said, but my voice was weak.
“It’s exactly like that,” Honor said quietly. She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. “And you need to think real hard about what happens when Amai decides he wants that baby, and you don’t want to be with him.”
My chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Honor said, “what if you decide you don’t want to be with Amai? What if you want to walk away? You think he’s just going to let you take that baby?”
“I—” I stopped, the words catching in my throat.
Because I’d been thinking about that since Amai brought up the contract a couple weeks ago.
I’d been so focused on protecting the baby, on building a life, but I hadn’t considered what would happen if I wanted out.
“He could take that baby from you,” Honor continued. “He’s got money. Power. Lawyers. And you signed a contract. What leverage do you have?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“That’s the problem,” Saroya said gently. “You’re in too deep, and you don’t even see it.”
“I do want to be with Amai,” I said suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
All three of my sisters turned to stare at me.
“You what?” Raven asked.
“I want to be with him,” I repeated, my voice stronger now. “He’s—he’s complicated. Rough around the edges. But he’s never lied to me. He’s obsessed with me in ways I’ve never experienced. He makes me feel—” I stopped, searching for the right words. “He makes me feel seen.”
“Seen?” Raven repeated. “Girl, that man is obsessed. That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s not just obsession,” I argued. “It’s-it’s more than that. He’s protective. He’s intense. But he’s also—” I trailed off, frustrated. “I can’t explain it.”
“You don’t have to,” Honor said. “We get it. But what about Kaisen?”
My stomach twisted.
“What about him?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Raven said. “We know he’s been coming around. We know you’ve been talking to him.”
“That’s different.”
“How?” Saroya asked.
“Because Kaisen is—” I hesitated. “He’s the complete opposite of Amai. He’s calm. Stable. He feels safe.”
“Safe,” Raven repeated flatly.
“Yes. Safe. And there’s—there’s a pull between us I can’t deny.”
The room went silent again.
Then Raven started laughing.
“What?” I demanded.
“Girl,” Raven said, wiping her eyes, “you might as well be in a poly relationship. You got two fine-ass rich men, and you’re out here talking about how one makes you feel seen and the other makes you feel safe. That’s a whole setup!”
“I’m not in a poly relationship,” I said, my face burning.
“You sure about that?” Raven asked. “Because it sounds like you are.”
“I’m not!”
“Truth,” Saroya said gently, “Kaisen has been coming by regularly. You’ve been on the phone with both of them. You just admitted you have feelings for both of them. What do you call that?”
“I call it complicated,” I snapped.
“Does Amai know Kaisen’s been coming around?” Honor asked.
I hesitated.
“Truth,” Honor pressed.
“No,” I admitted. “Amai’s been giving me space like I asked. He’s been busy. He said he lost an employee, and a lot has been on his plate.”
“And Kaisen?” Raven asked.
“He stops by often.”
Raven shook her head, laughing. “Girl, you are delusional as fuck.”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” Honor said, her voice firm but not unkind. “You’re definitely dating both of them damn brothers.”
“I’m not dating them,” I protested.
“Then what do you call it?” Saroya asked.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.
Because I didn’t know what to call it.
I didn’t know what any of this was.
“Look,” Honor said, stepping closer. “We’re not judging you. We’re worried. Because this,” she gestured around the nursery, “this is bigger than you realize. You’re not just carrying a baby. You’re caught in the middle of something dangerous.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” Raven asked. “Because it seems like you’re so focused on the baby and these men that you’re not seeing the bigger picture.”
“What bigger picture?”
“The Landry family,” Honor said. “You don’t know what they’re capable of. You don’t know what they’ve done or what they’re willing to do. And you’re walking around like you’re safe because you got a house and a nursery and two men who want you.”
“I’m not naive,” I said.
“We’re not saying you are,” Saroya replied. “We’re saying you’re in over your head.”
I looked around the nursery—at the crib, the dresser, the tiny clothes folded neatly in the drawers.
This was supposed to be my safe space.
My sanctuary.
But standing here with my sisters, hearing their words, I felt the weight of everything crashing down on me.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.
“You figure out what you want,” Honor said. “And then you protect yourself. Because those men—they’re going to do what’s best for them. You need to do what’s best for you.”
“And that baby,” Raven added, nodding toward my stomach.