Page 59 of Surrogate For My Best Friend’s Man 2

That nigga cleaned me the fuck out. Every time I walked through my apartment, I got reminded all over again that Malik wasn’t fucking with me no more. But somehow, the baby stuff hurt worse than the empty rooms. Diapers stacked against the wall, blankets, bottles, wipes, little matching outfits. Gift bags I still hadn’t unpacked. Some of it came from the baby shower. Some of it Alisha had brought over herself. And every time she brought something else, I felt like an even bigger piece of shit.

Because she didn’t know that I was carrying her step kids. I was supposed to be her best fucking friend. And I was sitting in her face lying like a motherfucker. The other day at the nail shop was the worst. She sat there doing my nails, talking to me about Deuce, telling me how tired she was of feeling like he was playing in her face. And what did my trifling ass do? Played right in her face too.

She asked me about Malik, and I lied like everything was good. Talking about how excited he was for the babies. That shit had been true once, just not anymore. Malik wasn’t excited about shit now. He wasn’t even fucking with me and I couldn’t blame him.

I couldn’t even make him out to be a fuck nigga because I was the trifling one. I had called and texted apologizing, but that shit wasn’t working. I tried giving him space. I tried not giving him space. None of it mattered because Malik was done. And when Malik said he was done, that nigga meant it.

I looked around my empty living room. He was supposed to be here. His big ass was supposed to be stretched across the couch getting on my nerves. His shoes were supposed to be by the door after I’d told him a hundred times to move them. The TV was supposed to be too damn loud. Instead, I could damn near hear my own heartbeat in this bitch.

I slowly made my way to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the only piece of furniture Malik had left me. I rubbed my stomach and one of the babies moved then the other one started.

I smiled without meaning to. “Y’all always do the most.”

My smile didn’t last because soon, they were going to be here and that scared the hell out of me. At the beginning, I kept telling myself I could handle it. Carry the babies, have them and hand them over. I made that shit sound so simple in my head. It wasn’t simple anymore, I felt these babies every day. I knew which one stayed kicking me under my ribs. I knew which one got active after I drank something cold. I knew what time they usually started moving at night.

My body had been their home for months and I was getting closer and closer to the day somebody was going to put them in my arms and then expect me to give them away to Kim. That thought made my stomach turn, not because I wanted to keep them. I knew they weren’t mine. But because I didn’t trust this shit anymore.

Deuce was sitting in the county and Kim’s crazy ass was unstable as hell. Malik was gone and Alisha didn’t know the truth. And I was stuck right in the middle carrying two innocent babies everybody had built lies around. What the fuck had I been thinking? I leaned back against the headboard. All because I wanted to protect Deuce my brother. My dumb ass, selfish ass brother.

I had convinced myself I was doing something good. I should’ve told Deuce no. Fuck what Kim wanted and fuck what he was scared of. Fuck whatever trouble he was trying to keep himself out of. That shit wasn’t supposed to become my burden, but it did. And look what it cost me, Malik, my peace and eventually Alisha too.

I knew my best friend when this shit came out, she wasn’t going to care why I did it. And why should she? There wasn’t any good explanation. I had let my brother use my body to have babies with his side bitch while his wife, my best friend, didn't know a damn thing.

Then I sat in Alisha’s face and let her believe those babies belonged to me and Malik. Let her buy gifts. Let her rub my stomach and talk about being an Auntie. “Damn what type of bitch does some shit like this?” I said to myself.

Malik had asked me damn near the same thing. At the time, I was too busy trying to explain myself to really hear him. He couldn’t trust me, that was the part I couldn’t fix. He was big on trust. Once I broke that, all the crying and apologizing in Detroit wasn’t putting that shit back together.

And I missed him, God, I missed that man. I missed hearing his key in the door. I missed him getting on my nerves. I missed his big ass taking up half the bed and then swearing I was the one hogging it. I even missed him telling me what I shouldn’t be eating while sneaking bites off my plate.

Now the apartment stayed quiet. I looked toward the empty spot where the dresser used to be and sucked my teeth through my tears. This nigga really took the damn dresser. Petty ass and then I looked toward the bathroom. “And left me one fucking towel.” I laughed again, but that shit quickly turned into another cry.

Because as petty as Malik had been, I’d take that nigga coming through the door and taking the damn bed too if it meant I could see him again. I rubbed my stomach. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t even know who I was apologizing to anymore. The closer I got to my due date, the less I cared about protecting Deuce. Malik walking away had already shown me what one lie could cost. And when Alisha found out the truth, I had a feeling losing my man was only the beginning.

The apartment was so quiet I could hear the refrigerator kick on from the bedroom. I wiped my face and pushed myself off the bed. Sitting around crying wasn’t bringing Malik back, and it damn sure wasn’t putting my furniture back. I had just made it into the living room when somebody started beating on my door.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

I frowned. “Who the hell?”

“Shante! Open this damn door!” Grandma Lorraine yelled.

I closed my eyes. “Shit Grandma Lorraine.”

I waddled over and unlocked the door. Grandma walked in carrying her purse and a grocery bag. “I've been calling your ass. Why you ain’t” She stopped and her eyes moved around my apartment slowly. “Shante.”

“What?” I mumbled.

Grandma turned in a complete circle. “Where the fuck is your house?”

I bit my lip. “Grandma”

“No, because I’m confused.” She pointed toward the empty living room. “Where is the couch?”

I didn’t answer.

“The TV?”

I looked away.