13. Mahasin #3
“Thank you.” I smoothed my curls, which suddenly felt like more hair than one head should manage.
Silence folded between us, thick and awkward. The words I had practiced for the past few days must’ve stayed in Amber’s car when we got out.
“Gage,” I began, my voice betraying me with a noticeable lack of confidence. I looked down at the floor. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
His once relaxed stance against the mini fridge turned into a military-like posture, straight and alert, as if he could feel the weight behind my tone.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes narrowing with concern.
My hands began to tremble. I set the water down once I realized I was spilling it.
“Just know my goal wasn’t to ruin your day.” Or your life, I thought to myself. “I went to your penthouse first, but you weren’t home.”
Spill it, Mahasin—because you’re losing your nerve.
Drawing in a deep breath that gave me an instant headache, I said:
“I’m pregnant.”
For a few heartbeats, he didn’t react. Then he lowered the soda in his hand slowly to the table. His eyes searched mine, and I could see he was stunned. I wish there was a “haha, sike” at the end of my statement, but this shit was real life—for both of us.
“You serious?” he finally asked.
I nodded. “I’m about four months serious.”
He rubbed his forehead, and I could see the tension building in his body as he mustered up the courage to ask me a question that almost got him slapped.
“Is… is it—”
“It’s yours,” I said before he could finish. Attitude drenched every word. “I’m an OB-GYN, Gage. I possess a unique set of skills that enable me to accurately determine conception dates. I also haven’t been with anyone after you, or for at least a month and a half before you.”
He dragged his hand down his face and took a seat, staring at me like I was his biggest mistake. He started shaking his right leg, and I pulled out my phone just in case I needed to send that 702 text to Amber.
“Damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“How could I? I left without your number and didn’t think we’d need to see each other again. And besides, I just found out not too long ago myself. I missed me missing several periods, and Amber noticed the change in me, so I took a test and—bam. Pregnant.”
“All of that sounds like your fault, Mahasin. You chose to sneak out of my crib without getting my number. You chose to have me for one night, when I would’ve given you a lifetime. And how the hell your smart ass miss all them damn periods—as an OB-GYN?”
“My fault?” I gasped, hurt spilling from my pores.
“Yeah, your fault. And then you come to my job, onset of a $400 million movie, and drop this shit on me like it’s Uber Eats or some shit.”
Unable to take the energy in the room, I stood up and grabbed my purse from the chair. I tried to make it across the room and out the door, but between the tears flooding my eyes, clouding my vision, and my body becoming weak with hurt, Gage was able to catch me by my arm.
“Mahasin…” he said, apologetically.
“No, let me go. I get it. You’ve got your life, and I shouldn’t have barged in here, ruining your day.
But get this straight—I came to tell you because I thought it was the right thing to do.
Not because I need or want anything from you.
My baby will be well taken care of, without a struggle, from its mama—with or without you, Gage Blaque.
Niggas will line up to be my baby’s stepdaddy, so he or she won’t miss out in the father area either. ”
I snatched away from him. “Oh—and if you keep that uneducated ass birthing scene in that movie, you gonna owe those investors $399 million dollars. And they might sue your ass for the other million.”
I turned, prepared to storm off and slam the door.
“Damn, the scene that bad?” he laughed.
“Nigga—all I said, and that’s what stood out to you?”
“Nah, that’s just the only part that might happen.
Because you’re not doing this pregnancy alone.
You’re not taking care of my kid alone. You have no role in either of y’all’s financial well-being—because I got it.
And you don’t want to be responsible for a nigga getting bodied because you had him around my kid, do you? ”
Okay now, Gage—let me find out you're one of those thug types that ain’t about to play about me. Mahasin, there you go thinking of some off-the-wall shit. He just said this was your fault—stay grounded and mad, bitch .
“Gage, please—” was all I could muster before his arms were around me, both resting on my lower back.
He shook his head as he looked down at my little belly doing its best to poke through my silk blouse. “I just need a second to process all this. Once again, you managed to change my world in less than twenty-four hours.”
He stepped back slightly, giving himself enough room to comfortably rub my belly.
I laughed—a soft, relieved sound. “Yeah, I seem to have a habit of doing that to you.”
He smiled, never letting me go, never stopping the gentle caress over the baby growing inside me. “You really thought I was going to let you do this alone?”
“Sometimes—a lot of times—Black women unfortunately don’t have a choice,” I said, as the tears finally broke loose, quiet and relentless.
“Well, as long as I’m alive, that’ll never be your story.
And I’m going to make sure that even if I do check out of this world sooner than planned, it still won’t be your story.
I told you that night—I gave myself to you because I’d never regret you.
That I always wanted to be connected to you.
So, I’m going to honor and cherish our connection.
You and my baby will be loved, protected, and provided for, never wanting for anything. ”
He let those words flow from his lips so confidently, so reassuringly. I wanted to believe him. God knows I wanted to.
But the sight—and terrible interaction—with that woman… Paris … solidified that he couldn’t possibly keep that promise.
“What about her?” I asked softly. “Your girlfriend.”
“I’ll speak to Paris. Will she like this?
No. And it may cause a temporary rift in our relationship—but no one will stop me from taking care of my kid.
And taking care of my kid means taking care of their mama.
I didn’t step out on Paris, and I don’t regret you, Mahasin.
I’ll figure this shit out—let me worry about it.
You focus on taking care of my baby while he or she is growing in there. ”
Slightly lowering himself, he pressed his lips to my belly and whispered:
“Daddy got everything covered out here.”
The words—simple as they were, but so powerful and…
safe—broke something open inside me. I covered my face with my hands and cried the kind of cry that steals your breath away and brings you to your knees.
As gravity did its job and pulled me downward, I felt Gage catch me and draw me into his chest. I could smell the sweet pineapple on his breath from the soda he drank and feel his heartbeat thudding steadily against my cheek. Both were soothing.
“Hey,” he whispered into my hair. “I got you, okay?”
I had so many questions for him. Like, for how long? And the fact that I didn’t want my kid around carrot-head ass Paris. But the words wouldn’t come—and honestly, I didn’t need them to. Not in this moment. Instead, I let myself rest there, in his arms, where I felt… safe.
After a while, I pulled back some and Gage guided me to the bathroom to wash my face.
“So, what do we do next? When’s your doctor’s appointment? I mean—you are the doctor—but I know you can’t treat yourself. Are you taking your prenatal vitamins?” Gage asked, a rush of questions tumbling out, making me smile and dizzy all at the same time.
“Gage, please—one question at a time. You’re going to make me throw up,” I confessed, chuckling softly. I was honestly delighted to hear how involved he wanted to be, and I did my best to answer what I could in the moment.
“My OB on call, Amber, and I will monitor my pregnancy. I have my old classmate, Dr. Kerrion Jacobs, as my emergency OB-GYN, in case I become high risk. He’s board-certified and willing to fly in at any given moment.
I haven’t started my prenatal vitamins yet—don’t hound me, I will start—but my diet is well-balanced.
Also, I haven’t done a full screening yet, including a sonogram.
I’m doing that at my birthing center on Saturday. You’re more than welcome to join me.”
Gage looked at me, and I knew he was about to protest everything I just said.
“Fly in?” He shook his head. “Naw, Dollface, that ain’t sitting well with me.
I need you to have an high-risk OB-GYN on staff here as well.
I’m sure Dr. Jacobs is fantastic, but he’s not close enough.
Prenatal vitamins need to start today . And what time on Saturday? Because I promise—I’ll beat you there.”
“Okay,” I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.
“Next to me, Dr. Jacobs is the best, but I get it—I’ll make it happen.
And as long as there are no complications, there wont be a need for a high-risk expert.
My prenatal vitamins will be on my desk in the morning.
I needed a special prescription because my iron is low.
Just give me one more day, and I’ll start.
And 11 a.m. on Saturday. The center is closed on the weekends, so it’ll just be us. ”
Gage embraced me in the tightest hug and planted the most sensual kiss on my forehead. It wasn’t sexual. It felt like a promise sealed.
“Aight, baby mama,” he said, smirking. “Daddy gotta get back on set. There’s money to be made—especially since I got two new liabilities.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said, laughing.
Gage held the door for me, and as I walked out, he called after me: “You think you can send me a voice memo on how to improve that birthing scene?”
“I’ll need your number to do that,” I responded.
“Let me see your phone,” he said.
I pulled it out, and he took his, bumped it into mine, and transferred our contact information. Then he reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and removed an Amex Centurion card, handing it to me.
“Here. Take this and use it for whatever the baby needs—even if it’s something to make you happy.”
“Gage… what am I supposed to buy with this?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Shit, I don’t know. Do you have a nursery at your house for my baby?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Well, buy one.”
“A nursery?” I repeated, still confused.
“Nah—a house with one already built in. I’ll call Amex and pre-arrange the transaction and prove liquidity. That card will cover whatever you want.”
I looked for the joke. But this fool was dead serious.
“Let’s get through Saturday before we start signing deeds and shit, okay?” I handed the card back to him, but he simply looked at it… and at me… and walked smoothly away toward the set.
For that moment, in that small room behind the chaos of the world—
I wasn’t alone anymore.