Chapter 162
each time I’d spot a familiar person, their mouths would drop once they’d notice my stomach. With Too Low having been in prison for over two years, they all knew that there was no way that I was pregnant for him. And I could only imagine how he’d react once he laid eyes on me.
“You came,” Too Low uttered, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and standing above me.
For a moment, I just stared at him. It gradually dawned on me that it had been a nice while since I’d seen him in person. And he looked so different. In a good way. Despite his nick name, and reputation in the streets, he always had the looks that didn’t match his name.
Too Low was a pretty nigga. Always had been.
He had a deep red complexion, now had wild curly hair, silky facial hairs, and tight eyes, making him appear to be mixed with Chinese or some shit.
He was tall, and lean, with heavily tatted skin.
Undoubtedly, whenever he was ready, he’d have his choice of women.
“Yeah,” I nervously breathed out.
“Well, get up. Give me a hug.” He held his arms out. I shook my head.
He frowned. “No?” I nodded.
“Man, you—” He stopped midsentence. “Wait a minute.” He reached down and palmed my belly. “What is this?”
My heart rate sped up. “Babies, Too Low.”
He jerked his hand back like my belly was hot. “Babies? With a S?”
“Yes,” I responded meekly.
I could hear his breathing, as he stood saying nothing.
Feeling emotionally overwhelmed, tears sprouted from my eyes.