“Did you have feelings for Gemma?”
“Unconditional,platoniclove.”
She entwined her fingers with mine. “That’s beautiful.”
I stared at our joined hands. Her soft to my rough. Her delicate fingers to my broader ones. Yet somehow, they fit together. “Back in the day, I donated sperm for extra money. That’s why she asked me to do it.”
She blinked. Hard. “You just keep dropping bombs, huh? So, the probability of there being other kids who share your DNA is high.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I guess that’s that.”
“Gemma wanted me to take Ezra.”
“Really?”
Nodding, I continued, “And I have to do what she wants.”
“Is that whatyouwant?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
She tipped my chin up with her free hand. “That’s where you’re wrong. Itdoesmatter. Because you’re the only person who has to live with that choice. If your heart isn’t in it, Ezra will feel that eventually.”
“I’m aware.” My entire family had said essentially the same thing in different ways. Some more direct.Blake. But most of them were understanding, gentle even. Which wasn’t like them.
“Listen, my father didn’t give a fuck about me and I felt that every single day of my childhood and beyond. I don’t want that for you or Ezra.”
“I remember your father.”
She rolled her eyes. “I remember him, too. I haven’t seen him since my wedding, but . . .”
Former NBA star, Alexander Reid, seemed larger than life in my young mind. The six-foot-seven center had played for several teams, won three championship rings, and even had a short-lived stint onSportsCenter. Back in the day, I used to see him shooting hoops in their backyard. He never spoke to me, though.
I was too engrossed with my childhood games to even recognize when he left. But I did recall watching Tyn console Rissa. From that moment on, Mr. Reid became public enemy number one. My little ass was prepared to kick the shit out of his shins the next time I saw him, too. But I didn’t see him again until Rissa’s wedding.
She swept a finger over my knuckles. “Anyway, I may not know the ins and outs of your personal relationship with Gemma, but I do know what it feels like to be connected to someone like that. Your sister is my Gemma. As much as I would want to do whatever she needs me to do forher, I know she would only want me to do what’s best forme.”
“If you were me, what would you do?”
She offered me a sad smile. “I would raise the baby.”
“Okay then.”
“The situation would be a little different, though.”
I raised a questioning brow. “How so?”
Shrugging, she explained, “I’m older than you. I wanted kids before I couldn’t have them.”
Rissa had shared her feelings about her desire to be a mother. We’d talked about it before she had her hysterectomy. After the surgery, I spent some time with her, helping her out. I held her hand when she cried, rubbed her back when she was hurting, and cooked meals for her. Even then, I wanted to protect her, take her pain away. That had never changed. From age five to age thirty-five, I never wanted her to be sad or hurt.
“If you do this, you’ll be a single parent,” she added. “You’ll have to deal with a son who never got to know his mother. It’s not the same, but again, speaking as a daughter who never really knew her father … even though that muthafucka is still alive and living with some heffa who’s stealing all his money?—”
I barked out a laugh. “You’re silly.”
“I used to wish I could’ve spent more time with him.”
