12. Mahasin #2
Amber didn’t take her eyes off me the entire time I peed in the cup.
If we weren’t inspecting vaginas all day together, I’d have found her watching me downright weird.
She was in her second year of medical school, well on her way to becoming a phenomenal OB-GYN.
I mean, she did have the best as her mentor.
And now she could label me her test dummy.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this shit at work,” I muttered.
Amber cackled. “You right—maybe we should’ve gone to RYZE , where your night of slutdom began and my little niece or nephew was conceived. And what better place to find out you’re pregnant than the birthing center you own ?”
“Amber, please.”
I finished peeing in the tiny cup and placed it on the floating steel counter.
After fixing my clothes and flushing, I felt like my feet had turned to cement.
Slowly, I made my way to the counter, removed the test’s plastic cover, and dipped the strip into the cup for the required five seconds.
Placing it down gently, as if it might break, I flushed the remaining urine, tossed the cup, and washed and moisturized my hands.
“Why the fuck are these two minutes feeling like twenty?” I huffed, leaning against the wall.
Amber stood by the counter, lips tucked behind a smirk, playfully shaking her head. Before I could curse her out for seeming way too amused, her timer went off.
“I’m going to give you the respect to look at it first before I trot my ass over there,” she said, that smirk still plastered on her face.
I inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. Then I peeled myself off the wall and stepped toward the counter. My eyes fell to the digital screen.
My breathing hitched. My brain disconnected. I suddenly had to pee again—or maybe throw up. Hell, I didn’t know what my body wanted to do. No brain connectivity, remember?
I must’ve gone pale, because Amber rushed over and placed her hand gently on my lower back—the same protective mom move your mama does when she brakes too hard in the car, like her little hand would stop you from flying through the windshield.
Holding up the test, tears streamed down my face as the word Pregnant stared back at me from the screen. I didn’t move. The room was so silent I could hear the vents humming—which was damn near impossible, because they were practically soundless.
Then, it hit me all at once. My chest tightened. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. My vision cleared, and it felt like I was watching God drop the mic at the end of His comedy show—The joke was on me.
Amber gasped. “Oh. My. Goodness.”
“This can’t be right,” I whispered. “Maybe it’s expired.”
Amber pulled the box from her scrub pocket. “Bitch, it expires next year. ” She looked at me and grinned through wide eyes. “Mahasin… you’re pregnant.”
I laughed then—one short, broken sound. “This is insane.”
Amber wrapped her arms around me. “You, okay?”
I went off, finally letting it all out. “Hell nah, I ain’t okay.
I’m fucked, Amber. How am I going to explain this to my parents?
To colleagues and all those uppity bastards my father forces us to have dinner with.
What do I say, huh? That I was so heartbroken after my ex-fiancé’s wife confronted us, that a few weeks later I busted it open for a real nigga?
One I planned on never seeing again? Hell nah , I ain’t okay. ”
“Mahasin, breathe,” she said, letting me go and rubbing my back. But I pulled away and started pacing between my office and the bathroom.
“Here I am delivering babies every week, and now I’m standing here crying—still wondering how this happened, like I don’t know biology—and feeling trapped, like I don’t know I got options,” I continued, words flying faster than my thoughts could catch them.
Amber looked at me with calm, kind eyes.
“You’re just still in shock, Mahasin. This doesn’t take away from who you are or what you’ve accomplished.
And yes, you have options—but we’ve got to consider them quickly.
Judging by Aunt Rose and the size of your stomach, we might have to go through a full procedure. ”
“We?” I repeated softly, eyes still brimming with tears.
“Yes, we. You and I. I’m here, every step of the way, as much as you’ll let me be. I can’t take on the emotional weight or make the choices for you, but I’m riding with you through the healing process—whether it’s eight weeks or eighteen years.”
We both snickered at the thought of raising a kid together for the next eighteen years.
“Thank you, Ambs. And I’m holding you to the whole eighteen,” I smiled.
Her face lit up with joy. “You’re gonna keep it?”
“I am.” I nodded. The shock and fear were still there, sitting right at the surface—but underneath was something warm and steady. Like maybe, just maybe, life was giving me something sweet without the sour.
Amber grinned, her own eyes glossed over. “You’re going to be an amazing mother. You’ve got a solid-ass career, you’re one of the most loving people I know, and bitch—you come from that old money.” We laughed in unison at that last part.
“My niece or nephew gonna show up to kindergarten in a limo and rock an AP on their fat little wrist.”
I laughed again—louder, freer this time. “My parents are going to lose it. My mama is going to hover over me, watching everything I eat. And my daddy? Oh, forget it. He’s probably already enrolling the baby in a charter school in utero .”
Amber wiped her cheeks. “Your baby shower is going to be a whole block party.”
I rubbed my stomach gently. “Maybe this is how it’s supposed to happen. I’ve spent all this time trying to find someone to love me right, love me forever—and maybe the love I was looking for wasn’t meant to walk into my life. Maybe I was supposed to give life to it. ”
Amber hugged me tight. “That’s beautiful, sis. But… you know we gotta find him, right? Gage deserves to know he’s got a baby on the way.”
The warmth inside me shifted—morphed into anxiety. Suddenly I had to pee again… or throw up. His name sounded taunting on her lips. The gentle giant I gave my body to… would he reject me? Or worse, reject our child?
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “He should know.”
“You got his number?”
I shook my head. “No. But I remember enough—his name, the studio he mentioned, the show he was producing… oh, and his address.”
Amber finger-snapped. “Good job, hoe. We’ll start with the house. And if he acts stupid, we pop up at his job and wreck that whole damn set.”
We burst into laughter.
After Amber made me promise I was okay, she left to get ready for her dinner with Creed. I walked over to the windows in my office and stared out at the city of Havenbrook glowing under the night sky. Pressing my palm to my stomach, I whispered:
“Hey, Mommy’s love.”
Hearing myself say “Mommy” surprised me.
I knew Amber meant it when she said she had my back, but the truth was…
it wasn't her responsibility to raise this baby with me. This child was created by me and Gage . And I had to be real with myself—he might not want us. He might disappear. But even if he didn’t want me, even if he only showed up for the baby…
that would be enough. That would be something.
"It’s just us right now. But I promise, I’ll figure out the rest. Even if it stays just us—Mommy promises you’ll never want for anything. "
I thought about Gage again—his beautiful smile, the way he adored me like I was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen.
I wondered if he ever thought about me. If he even remembered our night.
If he remembered whispering that he loved me.
I wasn’t na?ve. I’d dated enough men with good dick and deep pockets to know that everything that glitters ain’t gold.
Gage talked a good game—but talk alone doesn’t get you anywhere but caught between a rock and a hard place.
Still… something about him felt safe.
Tossing the pregnancy test into the trash, I grabbed my purse and locked up for the night. The parking lot was quiet, the air thick yet sweet from the flowers blooming in July’s heat.
I paused for a second and looked up. The stars seemed closer tonight, like I could pluck one from the sky. There were millions of them, all twinkling just for me, like each one was ready to grant a wish. But my heart only had one:
Please let me give birth to a healthy and happy baby.
I got into my car, buckled up, and started the engine. Then I drove into the night—a different woman than the one who’d walked into Serenity that morning.