Page 197 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“What?”

He didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, staring at me with that damn smile.

“Kyrie.”

“You know I love you, right?”

My heart immediately started beating harder.

“Yes…”

“And you know this ain’t how none of this shit was supposed to go.”

I swallowed.

“Kyrie…”

“Nawl. Let me say my shit before you start crying.”

“I’m not finna cry.”

“Yeah, aight.”

I rolled my eyes, but judging by the way my eyes were already burning, this nigga probably had me.

“When we first got married, we both knew what it was,” he continued. “I needed a wife, you agreed to do it, and that was supposed to be it.”

I nodded.

“But somewhere in the middle of all that shit, you became my wife for real.”

My lips pressed together.

“Not because of no agreement. Not because I needed you to be. You just did. You stayed down with me through everything, ma. Even when my ass probably made you wanna leave.”

“Plenty of times,” I mumbled.

His teammates laughed.

Kyrie cut his eyes at me. “See, this why I told you to let me talk.”

I laughed through the tears starting to fill my eyes.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Damn.”

He shook his head before looking at me again.

“You was there when I got shot. You took care of me when I couldn’t do shit the way I was used to doing it. You dealt with my moods, rehab, all the bullshit with the blogs…” He paused. “And now you carrying my baby.”

My hand automatically went to my stomach, and Kyrie looked down at it before looking back into my eyes.

“I got my career back. I got my baby on the way. And I got you.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

“Damn it, Kyrie.”