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I walked over to my car, and I could feel my mama walking on the side of us. She said nothing. My mama knew me well enough to know this was one thing she would just have to let me figure out on my own.
We made it to the car, and I opened the front door for my son to get in, and then I opened the back door, letting Khari climb in and sit in the middle. I made sure I put her seat belt on for her, and once I was done, I kissed her forehead and then closed the door behind me. The second I closed it, my mama was standing right there with open arms. A nigga ain’t never going to be too old to hug my mama. Shit, I needed her fuckin’ hugs at that moment.
My head crashed into the crook of her neck while she placed her hand on the back of my head. For the longest, she didn’t say shit.
“Five years, ma. That bitch let five years go by, and then she drops a fuckin’ bomb on me like this. It ain’t even like she willingly told me this shit either. I just happened to be walking back into the party, and I heard her talking to herself. How the fuck can a woman look a nigga in the eyes after doing some foul shit like this?
“I remember when Denim told me she was pregnant. I never questioned her whether the baby was mine because I knew the way I was recklessly moving with her, so I believed the baby was mine. Around that time, she swore that she wasn’t even messing around like that with her other baby daddy. Denim and I may have never been in a relationship or no shit like that, but I had always been good to her. During her pregnancy, I made sure she didn’t want for shit. Before I got locked, I was always there, helping out with Khari. I made sure that the two of them were financially straight after having to serve my time.
“Man, she could have said this shit years ago. She could have told me while I was locked up. That way, I could have better prepared myself for this shit. Me and that Reggie nigga don’t even get along, Ma. There I was, stomping a nigga out for talking to my daughter crazy, when the whole fuckin’ time, that’s his kid. Man, this some bullshit,” I said, and then I finally pulled away from her.
“I say take her ass to court. Right now, you can show the judge that you’re in a position to financially take care of your kids. Plus, you can show them that you have a spot for them to lay their heads. Denim doesn’t work. Her income comes from you,” my mama tried to reason with me, but I shook my head.
“Yeah, and I can also show a judge that I’m a convicted felon, and I haven’t even been home from prison for a whole year yet. This income shit is just getting started, so I don’t think it’s going to stick with them. Denim can show that she been raising Khari on her own, in my absence, for the past five years,” I told her.
“You are her father by law, Billionaire! You signed a birth certificate, so in the eyes of the law, that’s your child. Fight for full custody, and if they can’t grant you that, then you need to try for at least partial custody, but what you aren’t going to do is give the fuck up! Don’t you just altogether walk away from this little girl because we both know how much she loves you. It’s fucked up what Denim did. You don’t know how bad I want to come up out of these heels and give her ass an old school ass beating, but I know that even after I beat her ass, the fact will still remain that my son is hurting. Take the kids home, love on them, and have your bonding time with them. I’m going to come over first thing in the morning to cook breakfast for y’all. Alright?” she asked.
“Aight,” I said, ready to open my door because I didn’t want to talk about this shit anymore.
“I love you, son,” my mama let me know.
“I love you too,” I told her, and then I hopped in the car.
Before I pulled out, I sent Sidnesha a text message, letting her know that I was taking our son home with me because she probably wasn’t aware that I’d left the party with him. As far as Lil’ Bill, I knew without a doubt he was mine. That lil boy had my whole fuckin’ face, and I knew that when he was conceived, I was fuckin’ with Nesha hard, and it was vice versa. Sidnesha could say some of the most fucked up shit out of her mouth to hurt a nigga
, but pinning a baby on me that she knew wasn’t mine… nah, I couldn’t see her ever doing some shit like that.
Sidnesha texted me back, asking if everything was okay and if I wanted her to bring my son some clothes over to my house. I let her know that everything was straight, and I had the shit handled. I pulled out of the parking lot. We had been in the car for about five minutes when my phone buzzed with a call from Normani. Instantly, I silenced the ringer and threw the phone into the cup holder. I fucked with Normani hard, but I ain’t feel like being bothered right now. The shit was still too fuckin’ fresh for me, and I ain’t want to get on the phone and take out how I was feeling on her. By the time I got my kids settled in bed and shit, I would send her a message to let her know that I had made it home.
See, shit like this just reminded me why Sidnesha and I didn’t work out. Yeah, we were toxic for each other and always arguing about some shit, but I just remembered how whenever some shit bothered me, I would lock myself up in this dark place where I would let no one in. I ain’t know how to share my loads of pain. I always felt like I had to battle my demons and shit on my own. It was fucked up because I did all this fuckin’ chasing behind Normani, but now, I just needed some time to figure out how the hell I would handle this shit.
Normani would probably think that a nigga played her, but I swear I didn’t. This wasn’t even my way of breaking up with shorty. I just knew this started the long process of fighting my demons.
“You okay, Dad?” my son asked after we had driven for about ten minutes.
We had about another fifteen minutes before we made it home. I would not keep this a secret, but I wasn’t ready to talk about this shit right now with him. Khari was in the back, sleeping, so it wasn’t like she would hear the conversation taking place. However, I knew how much my son adored his baby sister, and to discover that she wasn’t even his sister would fuck him up… so nah, I would not do this shit right now.
“I’m straight. We about to go to my house. You and your sister have a room there, but it’s not ready. I was going to surprise y’all with it next weekend, but I decided to bring y’all home with me tonight instead. Your birthday is coming up in a few weeks. You still don’t know what you want to do?” I asked, switching the subject because I wanted to get all the attention off me.
He had to have known that it was more to the story, aside from what I was telling him because I saw it in his face. His facial expression let me know that he wanted to say something more about what was going on with me, but he didn’t.
“I want a big party. Motorcycle themed. I want a new motorcycle for my birthday too. I want to invite all my friends from school and my friends on the football team,” he let me know.
“You going to invite your shorty?” I asked, and he let out a low laugh.
“Yeah. She’s going to be there too. My mama going to meet her for the first time. I hope she’s not going to be mean to her,” he vented.
“Who knows with your crazy ass mama?”
I left it at that. I wasn’t feeling too fond of Nesha right now because I still needed the whole story of what happened between her, Denim, and Normani. I’d address that shit another time because the only thing on my mind right now was how I would handle this situation with Denim. My mind was still filled with murderous thoughts set against her.
“Your phone broke or something? Do you have a new phone number I don’t know about or some shit?” I asked Twinkle once all this shit with Billion and Denim’s ass had gone down.
Billion’s parents had gone back into the party, and Denim had sped off. Twinkle was headed for her car, more than likely about to dip out, but I couldn’t let her leave before I found out what the fuck was going on with her phone. She wasn’t picking that motha fucka up, so I assumed she must have had a new number or some shit.
I already wasn’t in the best of moods, but Billion and Twinkle’s grandmother was pretty much a grandmother to me as well, so I had to come and show face. My mood was fucked up because of Trinity… you know, the one supposedly carrying my baby. The gender reveal party was today, and she had been sending me text messages and shit all week, reminding me about this day. I’d already told her the first time she sent the invitation that I wasn’t going. I would make no fuckin’ moves until it was confirmed that the baby was mine.
I couldn’t imagine going out like Billion. That shit would fuck me up if I helped raise a child for five years, only for it to come out that the child didn’t even belong to me. Trinity’s baby wasn’t even here yet, and this bitch was making my life a living fuckin’ hell already. I was dealing with fuckin’ baby mama drama, and I didn’t even know if this was my baby mama in the first fuckin’ place. This was God’s way of punishing me for fuckin’ around on a good woman like Twinkle.
