AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She pointed to the side of the room, where her bag and the baby’s bag were, and I went over to get it. I put both bags around me, and then I helped Denim stand up and assisted her in walking out of the house. She picked up her keys on the way out and passed them to me, so I could lock her front door.
After I locked the door, I helped her into the front seat and then Khari in the backseat. She cried, moaned, and groaned the entire way to the hospital. It was crazy the amount of pain that a woman had to go through just to bring a life into this world. Just to think that in about two months, my wife would be in this same amount of pain. I knew that shit would fuck me up to see her like that, especially since Normani already said that she would do this thing natural.
As we drove to the hospital, Denim talked through her contractions by calling her mama and letting her know that we were almost at the hospital. I could hear her mama yelling on the other end of the phone, and it sounded like she was saying they were almost there too.
“The baby coming today, Mama?” Khari asked from the back seat.
She was leaning over from the seat, so she could be closer to her mother when she asked.
“I think so, baby. Sit back. We’re almost there,” Denim spoke through the pain.
The drive to the hospital was supposed to take about eight minutes, but I got us there in about three and a half minutes because I was driving a cast member from Fast & Furious. I pulled right up into the emergency room valet area, and as I was parking, I could see Denim’s mother pulling her car right behind. She and Rylo rushed out to get to Denim. I helped Khari out of the backseat, and then I got the diaper bag and Denim’s bag from the back as well.
By then, one of the nurses had come out and was pushing a wheelchair for Denim to get in.
“Have a safe delivery,” I told her and prepared to walk away, so I could get in my car.
Denim looked up at me with a little bit of hurt in her eyes because it must have registered to her that I was getting ready to leave.
“What? You’re not staying?” she asked.
“Stay for what? Denim, no disrespect, but that’s not my baby that you’re about to have. It’s somebody else’s. I did my part, which was bringing you here. I got my own pregnant wife at home. Be safe,” I told her, and then I pulled my daughter to me, kissed the top of her head, and let her know that I would pick her up in a couple of days. I said goodbye to Denim’s mother and to Rylo, and then I hopped in my ride.
Five minutes of me being in the car and on the road, a text message came in from Normani. She was telling me not to stop and get her anything because she was in the kitchen and about to make something quick for us. The whole drive home, all I could think about was how this shit was supposed to play out between Denim and me once she had her new daughter. Shorty looked at me a few moments ago, and I saw the entitlement that rested in her eyes for her new child. It was almost as if she just knew I would stay at the hospital, in the room with her, while she pushed out another nigga’s baby.
Khari was my responsibility, and although Rylo wasn’t mine, I helped out with her here and there because I didn’t want that little girl to think that Khari was more loved and more important than she was. Let me just stop thinking about this shit now because it would not do a damn thing but stress a nigga out.
I eventually made it home and pulled my car into our driveway. It hit me that I needed to check the mailbox, so I walked down our driveway to the mailbox and pulled out the few envelopes of mail that were inside. It was one big envelope in particular that stood out to me. This was something that I had been waiting for weeks to receive. My hands shook as I looked down at something that I’d just needed to see in writing. Granted, I was sure this news had been true all along, but I wanted solid proof. No one even knew that I had done this and was waiting for the results, because I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of the shit.
I didn’t want to live life, always thinking, what if? Like, what if there was a small chance? What I was holding in my hands were the DNA results for Khari and me. I swabbed her mouth a couple of weeks ago while she was sleeping, and I did the same thing to myself. With shaky hands, I held the mail and headed for the front door.
Once inside, I made my way into the kitchen, where I could smell the good food that my wife was in there throwing down on. She was standing over the stove, wearing just one of my tops and a pair of her house shoes. I set the mail down on the island and looked on the stove to see what she was cooking. It was chicken quesadillas, one of my favorites. She kissed me on my lips and then turned around to look at the mail that I’d placed on the table.
“I was hoping that my package from one of these children’s boutiques that I found on Instagram would have been delivered today. That’s the only thing that came?” my wife asked.
“Yeah. Let the food cook. Come over here with me. I want to open something up with you,” I told her.
She turned the oven down low because she had chicken tenderloins on the stove that she would cut up for the quesadillas. I picked up the envelope I needed and then grabbed my wife’s hand and walked her over to the table with me. I sat down on one of the chairs and pulled her down on my lap. She saw the sender’s address and the name on top of the envelope, and she turned sideways in my lap, so she could look over at me.
“Baby, is this for Khari?” she asked.
I nodded. My hands went for her stomach, and I rubbed it. Her soft hands rose and played in my hair.
“Billionaire, you know this doesn’t matter, right? That little girl belongs to you regardless. She’s yours. We don’t have to look at this,” she told me, but I shook my head.
“Shorty, I just want solid proof. Yeah, Denim pretty much told me that it ain’t no way in hell that Khari could be mine, but I want to know for sure. You the most important person in my life, so I want to look at it together. Open it,” I said and gave it to her.
She sighed, pushed a strand of hair out of her face, and tucked it behind her ear. With shaky hands, she gently tore through the envelope and pulled out a couple of papers, but the most important piece of paper was on the top.
“Baby, it’s a 0% chance that she’s yours,” Normani sadly told me.
I saw it too because I was looking over her shoulder and reading the results myself. I nodded my head, cool with the results, but just really wanting to know.
“And this is what I love about you. You had the chance to walk away from Khari. You could have been so mad with Denim that you could have chosen to not only punish Denim but punish Khari as well, but you didn’t. In fact, I think this situation hasn’t done anything but make you love her more. You’ll never hear me say anything to take your title of being Khari’s father away from you, because as her father is the only way that I see you.
“That’ll be you and Denim’s decision on whether or not you want Khari to know the truth. I don’t see the point in telling her that her biological father is in prison, serving a life sentence. You are the best father that any child can ask for. Your kids are lucky, Billionaire. I’m lucky. I’m glad that I let you shoot my club up,” she joked, using one of my slangs.
When Normani got pregnant, I was going around, telling people that I shot her club up, and she hated when I said that shit. I laughed and then pulled her into me and kissed her lips.
