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Porsha places her hand up on her chest. “Wait a minute. Pregnant? When did you get pregnant, and how? Scratch that. I know how. I wanna know by whom.”
The color in Persia’s face seems to have
drained. “Yes, please tell us. Who are you pregnant by?”
“I sorta, kinda, let myself get involved with a guy I really know nothing about. He came into the boutique a few months back, and I liked what I saw. And I wanted to have him, alone. And I did. The problem is it was more than once. Then I started really liking him.”
“Ooooh, you sneaky bitch,” Porsha teases. “Details, boo. So who is he?”
“His name is Desmond.”
Persia places a hand up over her neck as if she’s cluthing pearls. She stays quiet as Porsha rattles off a list of questions. What does he look like? When will we get to meet him? Is it serious? Does he know?”
I take another sip from my glass. “You won’t be meeting him. And, no, he doesn’t know.”
Porsha gives me a confused look. “And why not?”
“Because he’s stopped coming around and I don’t have a way of getting in touch with him. He would call the store for me, then we’d make plans to see each other. I had planned on giving him my number when I got back from Pennsylvania. But, he never called again. Just like that…”—I snapped my fingers—“…he’s vanished.” Porsha wants to know why I can’t get his number from off the caller ID. I tell her why.
“Mmmph,” she grunts. “That’s some bitch-ass bullshit. Maybe he had another woman.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. He told me he didn’t. And I believed him.”
“Girl, you know niggas will tell you anything to get with you.”
“I realize that, but he seemed different.”
Persia quietly shifts in her seat. “Damn, girl, you alright over there?” Porsha asks, eyeing her. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
She shakes her head. “I’m in shock; that’s all.” She brings her attention to me. “How many months are you?”
“Three,” I say.
“Then you can still get rid of it,” she says. Porsha and I look at her. “What? You are getting rid of it, right?”
I shake my head. “No…I’m keeping it.”
Persia
CHAPTER FIFTY
“I can’t do this anymore with you.”
Desmond frowns. “Yo, you can’t do what with me?”
“This,” I say, sitting up on the edge of the bed. I’ve finished sucking his dick for the second time today and have been laid up in bed with him since this afternoon, savoring the last dose of dick I’ll get from him after tonight. I’m cutting him off. I have to before this gets too out of hand. Okay, it’s already out of hand, which is why I have to end this before it gets any worse than it already is. I can’t stop thinking about what Paris dumped on Porsha and me last week. That she’s pregnant. Pregnant! I honestly thought I was going to faint when she told us that. I literally broke out in a sweat. She’s pregnant by him and he has no clue. I’m the one fucking him, and he has no clue. I can’t stop thinking about Paris actually wanting to keep it. Why in the hell would she want to keep a baby by a man she hardly knows? This whole situation is a mess. One I created.
The only good thing out of all of this is that I got to have some of that thick chocolate between his legs, and now I finally know his name. Three months of fucking this man and I’ve had no clue who the hell he is.
He gives me a confused look. “Where’s this comin’ from? I thought we were vibin’.”
I’m pregnant…I’m keeping it…
“Desmond, we were vibing. I mean, we are. It’s just that…” I pause, trying to find the right words. Telling him what I know is not an option.
“You wanna fall back,” he answers for me. I attempt to kiss him. He jerks his head back. “Nah, fuck that. I wanna know what you meant by that.” He swings his legs around, and stands up. I try not to stare at his naked body. “Are you sayin’ you wanna dead this?”
I nod, then shake my head. “No, I mean, yes. I don’t want to, but I have to. I really like you,” I say, pausing. I get up from the bed and walk over to him. Grab his hand. My small hand gets lost in his. But I’m not who you think I am. And by the way, my sister’s pregnant by you.
