Page 110 of Surrogate For My Best Friend’s Man 2

Being stuck inside made me notice things I probably would’ve ignored otherwise. Like with Alisha something was different. At first, I blamed it on everything she had going on. Deuce was still locked up. She had Brittany, the nail shop, and her own life to keep together. Then there was all the bullshit connected to Deuce’s street business that she never asked to be involved in.

If anybody deserved to shut the world out for a minute, it was Alisha. That’s what I told myself the first time she didn’t answer my call, and the second then the third. She’d eventually respond, but her responses weren’t like her, they were short and dry hours later.

When I told her the doctor had put me on bed rest, all I got was a text telling me to take care of myself. That bothered me because the old Alisha would’ve called before I even had time to put my phone down. She would’ve wanted to know what the doctor said, what I needed, whether somebody was staying with me. More than likely, she would’ve shown up with food and a bag full of shit I didn’t ask for.

Instead, nothing, days passed without me hearing her voice.Then a week and she wasn’t coming by Grandma’s either. That was strange too, Alisha being mad at Deuce had never stopped her from dealing with Grandma. Their relationship had always been separate. But lately, she seemed to be keeping her distance from everybody connected to us.

At first, I tried not to take it personally. Then I started going through our messages. That was when I really noticed it. There was a clear difference. Before, our conversations were normal, random jokes, pictures and complaints about our day. Her checking on the babies and me complaining about whatever was getting on my nerves.

Then it just stopped, no argument or explanation. Nothing happened between us that I knew of. Alisha had simply started disappearing. And the longer I sat in that apartment with nothing to do, the more my mind tried to figure out why.

Kim was the first person I thought about. If anybody would throw a grenade into somebody else’s life and stand around watching what happened, it was her. The baby shower had already proven she couldn’t control herself when she got emotional. All it would take was Deuce rejecting her again or me pissing her off for Kim to decide Alisha deserved to know everything. For a few days, that possibility stayed in the back of my mind. If Kim had told Alisha the truth, I would’ve known.

I knew my best friend, Alisha, wasn't going to find out I was carrying Deuce and Kim’s twins and send me a dry text telling me to take care of myself. Hell no, she would’ve been at my door. Pregnant or not, bed rest or not, Alisha would’ve checked my ass. That thought was actually what kept calming me down.

If Alisha knew, there would be a reaction and there hadn’t been one. So she couldn’t know, then I thought about Malik. That possibility was even easier to dismiss because Malik didn’t move like that. He was angry with me, and he had every right to be, but he wasn’t messy. He could’ve embarrassed me when he left. He knew enough to make me look terrible to everybody who knew us, but he didn’t.

He packed his shit, took damn near everything that wasn’t nailed down, and walked out of my life, but that was Malik. When he was done, he was done. He wasn’t calling people and telling their business, or trying to get revenge. So I crossed him off too. That left me with the explanation that made the most sense. Alisha was tired, tired of the drama and of our family.

Maybe she needed to separate herself from everybody attached to him for a while. I could understand that. What I couldn’t understand was why it hurt so damn much. These babies would be here soon, and once they were born, I’d be handing them over and trying to figure out what my life looked like afterward.

Alisha was supposed to still be there. She was the one person I kept telling myself I hadn’t lost and now I wasn’t so sure. Grandma noticed the distance too, although she didn’t give me much when I asked about it. She just said Alisha had a lot going on and probably needed space.

That should’ve been enough but it wasn’t. Especially because something about Grandma’s response felt careful. That made my mind start moving all over again. One afternoon, I was lying on the couch scrolling through old messages when I came across a picture Alisha had sent weeks earlier of two little outfits, one for each baby. She would be joking about making sure her babies were fresh and how Auntie had them covered.

I stared at that picture until guilt started crawling all over me. She had no clue she’d been shopping for her husband’s children with another woman. I locked my phone, nah she couldn’t know. Later that night, something came back to me that I hadn’t really thought about since it happened. The last time Alisha came to my apartment I lied to her about Malik cheating. I panicked when she saw the place was almost empty. I couldn’t tell her why Malik really left, so I gave her something she’d understand. Alisha had been furious and was ready to find him.

At the time, I’d been more worried about getting her out of my apartment before I accidentally said too much. Afterward, I never really thought about whether she’d actually found him until now. I stared at the ceiling. Malik wasn’t messy, but there was a difference between Malik seeking Alisha out to expose me and Alisha showing up accusing him of cheating because of a lie I’d told.

Malik didn’t play about his name. He especially didn’t play about being embarrassed. And if Alisha had found him somewhere especially at one of his businesses and came at him sideways about something he hadn’t done… Would he really protect my secret? After everything I’d done to him? For the first time, Malik didn’t feel impossible anymore. I reached for my phone and pulled up his name. I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks.

There were messages I’d sent that he’d never answered. Calls he’d ignored, my finger hovered over his number. I could ask, but what the hell was I supposed to say? Did you tell Alisha I’m carrying her husband’s babies? If he hadn’t, I’d look paranoid, If he had… I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

Then I pulled up Alisha’s name, same problem. I wanted to ask why she’d been acting differently and if somebody had said something to her, or if she’d talked to Malik. But I couldn’t ask any of those questions without opening a door I had spent months trying to keep closed. That was the problem with lying eventually you couldn’t even ask normal questions without worrying about where the answers might lead.

So I did nothing, I put my phone down and went back to convincing myself that Alisha couldn’t know. Because I knew her but lately, I had started wondering if maybe I’d hurt her badly enough to meet a version of my best friend I’d never seen before. I wasn’t ready to find out so I chose the explanation that hurt the least, Alisha was overwhelmed and she needed space. She’d come around when she was ready. My secret was still safe, I told myself that so many times I almost believed it.

DEUCE

Being in jail had a way of making every day feel like the same damn day. Same walls, same noise, same nasty ass food. Same niggas walking around pretending they weren’t counting every hour until they could get the fuck out. I had stopped asking what day it was unless I had court or somebody coming to see me. That afternoon, one of the COs came to my door and told me I had a visitor.

I figured it was Rell or maybe Grandma. Shante had already came down there and gave me a whole speech about how much she hated my ass, so I knew she wasn’t rushing back. Or it could’ve been my attorney Mark too. I hadn’t heard much from him since the last court date, and that was starting to piss me off. Every time we talked, he gave me the same lawyer shit. Be patient, the government hasn’t turned everything over.

We’re exploring options meanwhile I was the one sleeping on a county issued mattress while he went home every night. When I walked into visitation and saw who was sitting on the other side of the glass, I stopped. Well, damn Mr Victor Scambino himself. He didn’t send one of his people with a message, he came him damn self.

I’d only been around the old man a handful of times, because that was how he operated. Scambino wasn’t the type you saw standing around at clubs or posting pictures next to expensive cars. Most people making money for him had probably never even been in the same room with him. That’s how far removed he kept himself. So for him to personally come see me in the county? Something was up.

I sat down and picked up the phone, Scambino was already holding his. He looked exactly like he always did clean and calm with Gray mixed through his hair. He wore a tailored suit with a nice watch. I ain’t gone lie the nigga looked like money. That was probably why people fucked up dealing with him, they expected the monster to look like one.

“You look like shit.”

I looked down at my county clothes. “Five-star accommodations.”

Nothing changed in his face. I guess he was the wrong person for jokes, I leaned back. “What are you doing down here?”

“Fixing a problem.” He replied.

I gave him a look. “I’m the problem?”