“No, seriously. Walk me through the thought processslowly.Use small words if you need to. I’m trying to understand what level of delusion led you to this decision and how you managed to convince yourself it wouldn’t end with somebody getting escorted out by force. Did somebody dare you? Did you hit your head before you left home? Mix liquor with medication? Were you recently dropped by an elevator? Did you pray about this first and God said, ‘Yes, daughter, take that strange woman to Merge’s house without informing him first’?”
Zonnique folded her arms. “You’re doing too much.”
“I’m not doingenough. If I was doing too much, there’d already be tire marks from where I dragged both of y’all back down the driveway.”
The woman beside her pressed her lips together, almost like she was fighting a smile.
I caught it.
“And you,” I said, turning toward her. “Don’t laugh. You’re standing in a house you weren’t invited to, beside a woman whose decision-making skills are currently under federal review.”
Zonnique rolled her eyes. “Can you just calm down and let me explain?”
“I am calm,” I replied. “This is me exercising restraint. The louder version of this conversation involves security, handcuffs, and somebody losing a heel on the way out.”
Ol’ girl’s eyes bounced between us before a soft laugh escaped her.
“Okay, so wait…” she chimed in, sounding genuinely confused. “Y’all don’t live together?”
“Hell nah!” I shot back immediately. “And I knowdamnwell she didn’t tell you that. So whatever picture she painted for you on the ride over here, gone head and throw the whole canvas away.”
“I never told her we stayed together!” Zonnique quickly cleared up. “I guess she just assumed because of the… engagement.”
“What damn engagement?!” I snapped.
Zonnique’s face crumbled with embarrassment. I could practically see the regret settling into her bones as she realized that conversation wasn’t going anywhere near how she imagined it would.
“You know what… fuck all that,” I cut in sharply, dragging my attention back to the woman standing beside her. “Who the fuck are you? That’s what’s important.”
Her lips curved into a small smile.
“Well…” she said, glancing briefly toward Zonnique before locking eyes with me again. “I guess I’m the woman carrying your child.”
As she said it, her hand drifted down to her stomach, rubbing lightly across it like the idea alone already meant something to her.
For one long second, I didn’t move or blink. Hell, I probably didn’t even breathe.
Then something inside me snapped.
“The fuck you just say?” The words cracked like a whip.
Inside, anger burned slowly and brutally, like fire crawling through oil.
I faced Zonnique. “Zonnique,” I said quietly, which was always worse than yelling, “if this is some kinda game, I swear to God—”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” she interrupted quickly, voice trembling. “Can we please go somewhere private and talk?”
I pointed toward the staircase without taking my eyes off her.
“Oh, we’redefinitelyabout to talk,” I assured in an urgent tone. “Don’t worry about that.”
Then my attention shifted back to the Talia chick.
“You,” I said, pointing directly at her. “Stay right here. And don’t touch a damn thing.”
My attention shifted toward the security guards stationed near the entrance.
“I want eyes on her constantly… hawk eyes. If she blinks suspiciously, scratches her arm weirdly, coughs too many times, or starts looking around too hard, report itimmediately.”
