Ava Reynolds
Two days after I filled out the application for the condo, I was approved.
By the next day, I had already paid the deposit and first month’s rent.
Tomorrow, I would be picking up the keys.
I had already been picking out furniture for my dream place since I returned to Chicago, so all I had to do was go to the shopping carts and purchase it.
My place would be fully furnished by next week.
Now I was standing in the middle of my room with my dresser drawer pulled all the way out, folding clothes into neat stacks on the bed while Zahra sat in the middle of my mattress pouting like I had personally betrayed her.
“I still don’t like this,” she whined.
I looked over at her and laughed. “You’re acting like I’m moving to another state.”
She deepened her pout. “You’re moving out, though.”
I folded a pair of leggings and laid them in the open suitcase. “Zahra, I couldn’t live here forever.”
She rubbed her big stomach and frowned harder. “Legend and Icon live together in separate suites.”
That made me holler a laugh. “Girl, I do not want to live that close to you and Saint forever.”
She shrugged, but she was still pouting. “It could work.”
“I’m ready to live on my own.”
Zahra watched me fold another stack of clothes. “It’s going to be a lot doing all this by yourself with a baby. For the days and nights that Reek isn’t there to help, you’re going to need some assistance when the baby is a newborn.”
I cringed, being reminded that everybody knew I was going to be alone in this because Reek made it so obvious he had no interest in being a family.
“Women do it every day. Every mother isn’t blessed with a husband like yours and your brothers-in-law.”
“You have family, though. You should at least stay here until the baby is older and you don’t need as much help.”
Before I could respond, Saint stuck his head in the doorway with a plate in one hand with a slice of cake on it, smiling from ear-to-ear.
Zahra rolled her eyes immediately. “Oh God. Ever since those treats at the shower went over well, he thinks he a baker now.”
Saint ignored her and came farther in. “I’m practicing for your baby shower.”
I started cracking up. “Oh. My. God.”
“It’s carrot cake,” he announced, so proudly. “Your favorite.”
I looked at the cake again. It actually looked moist, the layers were neat, and the cream cheese frosting was thick.
He held it out toward me. “Here.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t want any right now.”
Saint frowned like I had said something offensive. “You might not, but the baby does.”
That made Zahra laugh.
I reached to push his hand away, but before I could, Saint broke off a piece with the fork and held it to my mouth.
“Saint—”
“Open.”
“I said I don’t—”
He gave me that same look he gave grown men right before they listened.
I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth just enough to get him out of my face. The cake was actually good as hell, which irritated me even more.
He looked pleased with himself. “See.”
Zahra laughed harder, with one hand over her belly. “You really do think you're a baker now.”
Saint pointed the fork at her. “I am. Baby, this can be my way to get legit.”
“You’re gonna open a bakery now, nigga?” I asked, smirking at him.
He shrugged. “I might. And the chef cooked dinner for y’all tonight.”
I went back to folding. “Okay.”
“I told him to make you something good for the babies, something with all the shit babies need to grow healthy in the womb. Salmon with brown rice, avocado on the side, sweet potatoes. Nuts too.”
My face twisted in disgust. “I do not want that for dinner.”
Saint looked at me like my opinion was decorative. “Good thing I wasn’t asking.”
“Saint!” I whined.
“You're carrying family. Eat what’s good for the baby.”
I stared at him.
He stared right back.
Then he gave me one final nod like the conversation was over and turned toward the door.
“I’m sending it up in a minute,” he said. “Both of y’all better eat it all.”
Zahra looked after him, shaking her head, but she didn’t say a word, as if she knew she didn’t have a choice or an argument that he would listen to anyway.
“I don’t have to listen to you, you know that, right?” I reminded him. “I’m not your wife!”
Saint didn’t even turn around as he left the room. “Bet you betta eat it, though.”
Then he was gone.
The second he was gone, I looked at Zahra and said, “See? That’s why I have to move.”
A WEEK LATER