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“Oh, and Wallace? Check your mail,” she hit that nigga with that, putting her hand on his shoulder, and finally walked away.

I laughed while turning my body, facing him. I crossed my arms and we looked each other in the eyes.

“Don’t even say shit,” he told me.

“I’m not. Shit, she said enough,” I replied, ending it at that.

You could literally see the confidence leave his body. He was just talking all that shit, saying how he was used to getting his way. I think he knew in this moment that that run of getting his way had come to an end. He wasn’t getting her back. I read some shit years ago and I don’t remember what it said verbatim, but to sum it up, it basically said that when a woman cuts her hair, she was getting ready to change her life. I never really understood what that meant, but seeing the way my mom just pranced in here, I think I have a full understanding of it now. She didn’t even walk in this bitch sad. Didn’t even look heartbroken. She came in here with a new hair color, new length, and a fresh tan from laying out on the beach. She was done with his ass, and I think everyone in here could tell.

I stuck around long enough for everyone to sing happy birthday to Maleah and cut the cake. She had so many gifts that I helped my brothers pile everything onto Kingston’s truck. Not long after, I hopped into my whip, going home.

It was a little traffic getting home, so I didn’t pull into the garage until about forty- five minutes later. I parked on the residents floor, stepped out, and headed for the side door. I went ahead and stepped onto the elevator, riding it up in silence. Not long after, I was in front of my door, punching in the code, granting myself entry. The house was quiet. The only light came from a dim lamp in the living room.

I kicked my shoes off, leaving them by the door, and then walked further into the house. When I made it to the bedroom, I spotted Deja lying at the foot of the bed. She was knocked out, with a throw blanket swallowing her up in the bed. I haven’t seen my girl in a couple of days because she’s been in Orlando.

Before I went over to her to show her some love, I walked to the bathroom first, so I could piss. Cutting the light on in the bathroom, my eyes immediately shot over to Deja’s side of the sink. Three pink boxes. Pregnancy boxes.

I rushed over to get to the boxes, and right there, lined up on paper towels were nine positive pregnancy tests. She bought so many tests as if one positive result wasn’t enough.

I picked one of the test up and walked back into the bedroom. She was still at the foot of the bed sleeping, so I shook her. Her eyes eventually opened, and once they did, she looked at me and then looked at what was in my hand. She saw that and closed her eyes back. For the first time, I paid attention to the dried-up tears on her face. Her ass must have saw the results and fucked around and cried herself to sleep.

“Tell you congratulations or you want a pity party?” I asked.

“Both,” she responded, and then her ass started crying.

I sat the test down on the bed, picked her up, and took a seat at the foot. I sat her in my lap, making her straddle me. Keeping her there, I leaned back, putting my elbows on the bed, while looking at her.

I wasn’t shocked that Deja was pregnant. I hinted at it the other night, especially when her period didn’t come on. She sucked when it came to taking her birth control when she was supposed to, so this came as no surprise for me. While I was at the party, seeing the little girls running around, getting their hair done, and toes done, it made me think what life would look like for me as a girl dad. Now look. I walk in the house to nine positive pregnancy tests waiting for me in the bathroom.

“Why you came home and took a test?” I asked, eyes still on her, watching her as she had her moment.

“My grandma told me that I needed to take one,” she said, wiping at the tears running down her face and avoiding eye contact with me.

“Why you crying?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes at me.

“Can you just give me like one month to finish up at the club? Wolf, I can’t just leave like that. I wasn’t ready for the other night to be my last dance. Just give me like one month. Girls get pregnant and dance all the time. I’m not saying that I’m going to be big and pregnant, still dancing though. Baby, just give me one month, okay?” she asked me.

I think the pregnancy, mixed with her feeling like I was going to shut her career down is what ultimately made her emotional. I wanted to look her in her eyes and tell her that she couldn’t get back on that pole. I felt like that would make her hate me though. It’ll make her feel like I was taking something away from her. I didn’t want to be that nigga. I watched the way my pops controlled everything about my mom’s life for years, and I really didn’t want to be that guy.

“Ay, one month. Chill out on all that wild shit that you like to get up on the pole and do though. All that swinging in the air, and the other dangerous shit that you like to do, bring that to an end. I don’t want to be a green ass nigga and take your final moments of dance away from you. Do your little month, and that’s it. Poison is about to be officially retired, and put the fuck up,” I said, and she rolled her eyes through tears that were still falling.

“Why didn’t you wait for me to get home? I wanted to see you take the test,” I said.

“Oh, you would have hated me for my reaction. I carried on terribly. I cried myself to sleep,” she said, and I sucked my teeth at that.

“How you expect to miss out on taking your pills, sit on this dick whenever you get a chance, but didn’t think you’ll get pregnant? That’s not how life works. I told you that,” I said. She nodded and cried some more.

“I’m so mad at myself for crying over it though. I feel like…like a hypocrite. I feel like I’m acting how my mom acted when she found out that she was pregnant with me. I spent all this time being mad at my mom for acting like having me ruined her life. I feel wrong for thinking about the club, thinking about dancing, and thinking about walking away from all my fans. I do want our baby though, Wolf. It’s just… I don’t know. Poison has been my life since I was eighteen. Now that part of me is about to be over. I feel sad,” she said, and hysterically started crying this time.

I wasn’t mad at Deja for crying because I understood what she was trying to tell me.

I removed her hands from covering her eyes, sat up, while holding her hands down. I did that so I could kiss her tears away, instead of having her use her hands to get rid of them.

“I remember I took you to the drive- in movie theater and one of the talks we had. You told me about the toxic relationship between you and your mom. You told me how you started dancing fresh out of high school. All you really know is having a hard life. I been told you that I wanted to make your life soft. I been saying that shit to you for a little minute now. Since we’ve been together, you feel like I made your life harder or softer?” I asked.

“Softer,” she cried to me.

“Okay then. Baby, imagine how soft that shit going to feel when our baby gets here? You ain’t gotta be in the club no more at two and three in the morning. You can go to sleep at a decent hour. Your body can now get the rest that it deserves. You having a baby by a fuckin billionaire. Let me give you the perks that comes with that shit,” I finished and through her tears, she laughed and pushed me.