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HelloLourdes: @ my clients, the cat’s finally out of the bag about why my website is down. I should be back to work in February or March. I hope y’all all come back to me because I miss all my little babies!

She was standing firm about continuing to work until I gave her $20,000 in cash. I was going to give her that anyway for the month of her pregnancy that I’d missed. But it became a way for me to show her that she could sit down and kick her feet up without worrying about money. She finished the existing appointments she had for the week and then she temporarily shut down her website. Shortly after that I began giving her money every other day to make up for what she was missing out on. Lourdes loved what she did beyond the money. But I figured that if she couldn’t do her job then she could at least still be getting paid. I was working overtime to keep her happy and she couldn’t even tell a nigga about her maternity shoot.

“Man, this girl out her top,” I mumbled as I clicked the link in her bio after reading her second pinned comment.

HelloLourdes: I wasn’t going to share this publicly, but I’ve gotten too many comments from my supporters asking, so I’m going to accept my blessings. The link to my baby registry is in my bio!!!!

I didn’t mind that she shared the baby registry with her supporters. Over 200,000 people followed her business page and majority of them weren’t from New Orleans or surrounding areas to book with her. Most of them probably didn’t even have children. A lot of people just loved her content and what she did, so it didn’t come as a surprise that they wanted to show love in the form of gifts for our baby. The thing that was fucking me up was the title of her registry. Showering Baby Craige. Craige was her last name…not mine. Right under the title it said “Lourdes’ Baby Registry.” I didn’t need to see shit else to know that she had life fucked up. I went to my recent call log and clicked on her contact.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” she answered the phone, sounding all chipper and shit. “The decorator sent me digital mock ups of everything for the baby shower. You want me to send it to you?”

It was ironic that she was excitedly asking for my input as if she really cared.

“You at home?” I asked, getting straight to the reason I’d called. I was never going to express my grievances with her in front of Naz. It was bad enough she knew I was hurt about not being included in the pregnancy shoot. This conversation was probably going to lead to an argument and I didn’t want to do it in front of other people.

“Yea…is everything okay? You sound dry.”

“I’m finna come over there.”

“Okayyyy…”

I was about to hang up but she started talking again.

“Can you get me a lemon Nothing Bundt cake? A big one. I really want something sweet.”

I smacked my teeth because I wasn’t pleased with how she was moving. Yet she was oblivious and making desert requests like it was a regular day.

“You don’t want to?” She asked in genuine disbelief. Her reaction was justified because I jumped for whatever she asked for.

“Man, I got you. I’ll be there in ‘bout 30 minutes.”

“Okay, thank you baby daddy,” she replied like shit was sweet before hanging up. Yea, we needed to talk asap.

“Alright, Naz” I stood up and grabbed the shopping bags. “How much I owe you for these?”

“Boy bye,” she rolled her eyes. “You know your money is no good with me.”

I would have normally offered her money anyway to which she’d vehemently decline. Then we’d be going back and forth about her refusal to accept the money before I forced her to take it. I didn’t have time for that dumb shit, so I thanked her for the shoes again before making a speedy exit.

_____________

Lourdes

I hadn’t cooked for myself in so long. Either my Mama and Granny were providing home cooked meals or Armias was getting take out from my favorite restaurants. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being in the kitchen until I got the urge to do so a few hours ago. It was a chilly October evening, so I wanted something warm and savory. One of my favorite comfort meals was pepper steak and gravy, so I whipped that up along with white rice, mashed potatoes, cornbread muffins, and string beans. I’d cooked way too much food, but somebody was going to eat it. Armias was going to be the first person I offered a plate to since he was coming over. I didn’t know what was going on with him but that was his business. He just needed to show up with my cake like I’d requested.

“I was a liar, I gave in to the fire. I know I should've fought it, at least I'm being honest. Feel like a failure 'cause I know that I failed you. I should've done you better 'cause you don't want a liar…”

“Oouuu,” I squealed excitedly when Ariana Grande’s “One Last Time” started playing on my tv. I was logged into Youtube, so the music playing was perfectly tailored based on my watch history. I’d been listening to a bunch of second chance love songs because that’s where my heart was. I’d never admit that out loud because it wasn’t reciprocated. A girl could dream though. No matter how pathetic it made me feel sometimes. On one side I wanted to plead my case. I always thought I was too proud to beg and I was taught that I was always the prize. However, I was in unfamiliar territory. For the first time I’d done something wrong unprovoked. I blatantly lied. Multiple times. I even brought my mama in on the lie. If the roles were reversed I would have gave a nigga his walking papers. I guess that’s the reason I didn’t want to fight for it. It wasn’t about my pride. I feared that Armias was truly done with me. I certainly had valid reasons to believe that. Before learning about our baby he’d cut me off cold turkey without looking back. And yea, he was doing a lot for me but it was giving he’d do it for any woman carrying his child. While that was admirable, it wasn’t a reason for me to feel special or think that he wanted me like that. Sometimes I felt myself slipping into being delulu though. Me singing Ariana Grande and thinking of him proved that much.

“So one last time I need to be the one who takes you home. One more time I promise after that, I'll let you go. Baby, I don't care if you got her in your heart. All I really care is you wake up in my arms. One last time I need to be the one who takes you home!” I sang as I removed the cornbread from the oven. My whole meal was finally done and I couldn’t wait to dig in, but first I had to let the cornbread cool off. I was going to give it a good ten minutes and scroll through my IG comments while doing so. I was getting so much love from my pregnancy announcement shoot, which was expected because everyone celebrated and congratulated first time mothers. But I didn’t expect over five thousand reposts and all the reshares. I definitely didn’t think my followers would be asking if I had a baby registry so they could buy me things. I was aware that people loved my content, but I didn’t know they fucked with me on a personal level like this. It had only been two hours since I shared my registry link and half of the stuff had been purchased. The website I used allowed for gifts to be sent directly to my address without anyone seeing it. At this rate I was going to have to add more stuff to the registry for my family and friends who were actually attending the baby shower next month.

“Bitch this too many dm’s,” I mumbled as I bypassed my main inbox and went to my requests out of curiosity. I had just as many of those, so I wanted to take a peak. I had no intentions of actually reading any until something jumped out at me. It was a page with no profile picture and a top tier troll name.

PettyWright: Ain’t this your baby daddy?

That five word question had me breaking my fingers to click on the dm. Three screenshots of Naz’s close friends were right above the question. Every picture was a car selfie and similar to the shit that Naz had posted on her public IG story. Somebody sent this directly to me because they wanted to make sure I saw it. And I bet that someone was Miss Nazaria herself. There was no way a bitch like her would allow a troll account in her close friends. She probably felt like she had to go out of her way to make sure I knew that she was still in Armias’ life. She probably thought I was clueless because I wasn’t causing drama or attempting to argue with her. I guess this was her poor attempt to drag a reaction out of me, but she wasn’t going to get it. She could shove those dry ass selfies up her ass. If she really wanted me to sweat then she should’ve sent a flick or something.

“Bitch, I know you lying,” I laughed when another screenshot came through. This time it was a picture of her, Rahesha, Aspen, and Aneesah. The screenshot was taken today but I knew it was a reposted picture from the summer because Aspen had fulani braids. She’d been rocking sew-ins since football season started. The point that Naz was trying to prove wasn’t landing. Prior to this little stunt I actually thought maybe she and Armias had something strong despite whatever he was claiming. But now everything he told me was sounding more believable. The girlies who really had nigga’s hearts in their back pockets didn’t move like this. She was throwing rocks and hiding her hands like she was a side bitch and that was comical because the nigga was openly single. I damn sure wasn’t claiming him or telling the world that he was my baby daddy. That was also another obvious sign that she was the culprit behind that troll page because she was privy to that information.