I turned to face him. “I need to holla at you ’bout something.”
Basheer twisted the top back on the now empty water bottle and gave me his full attention.
“How do I know if the woman carrying my child is doing what she’s supposed to be doing?”
He took a minute to respond.
“Bruh, I doubt that woman would jeopardize anything. She ain’t gotta worry ’bout shit while she’s carrying yo’ baby. Reason, the woman signed a contract. Why would anybody fuck that up? You’re funding her life.” Basheer’s eyes were wide as he slapped my desk.
“I’m funding a safe environment for my baby.”
“Yeah… Well, all I’m saying is I doubt anybody who got a fat check, got to quit their job, live in a nice place, get their groceries paid for, get pregnancy massages, and whatever else you been providing would do anything to fuck over a good thing. I’m sure the woman is probably marveling in that shit. Hopefully, she’s smart enough to save some money, because when yo’ baby is born, that’s it for her.”
Basheer had a good point. I was making sure the stranger carrying my baby was living a good life, all funded by me. I’d always dreamed that any woman who carried my baby would get nothing but queen treatment. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my wife who was pregnant, but to make up for that, I still made it my responsibility that Saje never felt left out. But I still wished she was the woman who was pregnant with my child.
I couldn’t stop some of the thoughts I had about not being able to kiss her pregnant belly, feeling my baby’s kicks, rubbing her belly until she fell asleep, waking up in the middle of the night to get her whatever cravings she had, massaging her body from head to toe, going to doctor appointments, attending Lamaze classes with her, having our paternity shoot, and witnessing my baby coming into this world. All these thoughts, and none of them would become a reality. I felt a way because I wanted this with Saje, but we would never have this experience together.
Suddenly, I blurted, “I’on give a fuck what you gotta do, Basheer. Find a way for me to meet the surrogate. I can’t continue the rest of this journey without laying eyes on the woman who is carrying my baby.”
I snatched my briefcase off my desk and rushed out. Basheer was right behind me.
“Reason! Bruh, what the fuck! I thought we went over this already.”
I kept walking briskly down the hall toward the elevator. I wasn’t taking “no” for an answer.
“Remember the contracts y’all both signed?”
“Fuck those contracts!” I barked as the elevator opened, leaving Basheer looking at me crazy as the elevator door closed in his face.
Later That Evening
I hadn’t heard from Basheer since my request, and he better not have hit me up until he was calling to tell me when and where I was meeting this woman.
Finally, I made it home after a long day in the office. I parked next to one of Saje’s trucks and rushed inside.
After leaving my shoes, keys, briefcase, and blazer at the door, I made my way to our bedroom. Surprisingly, Saje was home early for once in I don’t know how long. It seemed like she was always staying later than usual at work to film scenes. She was dedicated to her craft, and I didn’t know another woman who worked as hard as she did.
I heard the shower running, and I took that as my cue to get naked and join her. All I wanted to do was slide up in Saje’s warm pussy. We needed intimacy, time to bond, and to feel each other. It had been a while, and I was horny as fuck for my wife.
I wanted and needed to fuck to release all the pent-up tension I had.
When I went to reach for the doorknob, it didn’t budge.
What the fuck?
In all the years we had been together, Saje had never locked the bathroom door while she showered. She looked forward to me walking in and fucking the shit out of her while I bent her over the tub or sink.
“Saje!” I yelled. “Why the fuck you got the door locked?”
When she didn’t answer, I jogged away to get something to pick the lock because I was getting in that muthafucka.
When I returned, Saje was exiting the bathroom, adjusting a towel around her wet hair. She jumped and screamed when she saw me.
“Argh! Reason! You scared the shit outta me! Why are you sweating and looking all crazy?” she questioned with her hand over her heart.
“You ain’t hear me calling out your name?” I still had the lockpick set in my hand, which she was now staring at. “Why did you have the door locked?”
“What do you mean? It wasn’t locked.”
