Through the grapevine, I heard she was dealing with some rich nigga who owned bars and properties around the city. He wasn’t wealthier than me, but still very well off. Strangely enough, I was actually happy for her ass. Me and Zonnique were compatible in certain ways, sure.
The sex was good, she knew when to leave me alone, she understood my lifestyle, and we were toxic enough to keep circling back to each other every few months.But deep down, I think Zonnique finally realized that a man will keep revisiting comfort while still reserving commitment for somebody else.
Some men know exactly where to place a woman in their life, and no amount of waiting changes that position.
Knox laughed into his drink, bringing me back to the moment. “Damn. So, how’s the surrogate, personality-wise?”
I let out a low breath through my nose. “On some real shit… I can’t tell if she’s crazy or just overly excited to be pregnant by a nigga with money. I’m leaning heavily toward crazy, though.”
Knox shook his head. “Damn.”
“Check this. After we had another ultrasound done to confirm the pregnancy in person, I gave her my number. And I made it very clear that it was for emergencies only.”
Knox stared at me, waiting for the problem. “And?”
“Andshe’s taking full advantage of that shit! Apparently, every thought that enters her head qualifies as a fuckin’ emergency. Bruh, that girl has been blowing my phone up every day, calling, sending paragraphs, giving me full reports on what she ate, how long she slept, what mood she woke up in, and whether she thinks the baby gon’ have my eyes.”
Knox laughed.
“She texted me yesterday talking about, ‘The baby kicked after I ate salmon. Thought you should know. I’m also a little gassy today, but in a good mood.’” I frowned. “Nigga, she’s seven weeks pregnant. What the fuck kicked? That baby barely has elbows and a neck. At this stage, it looks like a gummy bear with responsibilities.”
Knox almost choked on his liquor. “Hell nah. She on some rom-com shit. Next thing you know, she gon’ be wanting you to rub cocoa butter on her stomach.”
“I gave her a number for emergencies, not womb commentary.”
Knox chuckled. “Pleasetell me that Zonnique’s ass had enough sense to do a background check, or that you followed up with one.”
Every last file Zonnique had ordered on Talia eventually landed in my hands after everything blew up. Talia’s background was damn near perfect. She had stable work history, until a recent layoff, which was no fault of her own. She had no criminal record, no obvious drama, no suspicious financial patterns, or messy public scandals. It was too clean, almost like somebody sat down and built the perfect candidate in a damn laboratory.
And maybe that was what bothered me the most.
“Zonnique did a legit one… not a thorough one though like I would’ve. I feel like I need to dig deeper, though. Something about this shit still ain’t sitting right with me.”
“You got a picture of her?” Knox asked.
I unlocked my phone and scrolled for a second before pulling up a screenshot from my home security footage from the day Zonnique brought her to my crib. The image caught her standing in my foyer looking up at me calmly while I had a gun pointed directly at her chest.
I slid the phone across the table toward Knox.
He leaned forward, pick the phone up and squinted at the screen… then his entire expression shifted.
“Nigga…”
“What?”
“I’m not saying I’m one hundred percent sure… but Iswearthat’s the same chick you fucked in this very club.”
I frowned immediately. “The one in the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” Knox confirmed, grill flashing as he handed the phone back. “Unless there’s another girl you smashed in the bathroom that I don’t know about.”
I stared back down at the picture, and suddenly, the memory started crawling back.
There was only one woman I’d ever slipped up and fucked in a club bathroom. And if I was being completely honest, the memory of her still crossed my mind from time to time. Well, not necessarily her face… mostly the pussy. That was the problem. I remembered exactly how she felt, the sounds she made, the red dress, and damn near every reckless decision we made in that bathroom, but her actual face afterward? Blurry as hell. Knox clearly remembered it, though.
I looked up at him. “Why the fuck do you remember her better than I do?”
He shrugged. “Because one of us was sober and wasn’t busy committing health-code violations.”
