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“Because, one, I can’t get anything done during the day when I’m down at the salon. And, two, sometimes you can find cheaper deals when you shop late at night.”
The vein on the side of his neck relaxes and he unclenches his jaw. “Show me the fucking website you were on then,” he demands.
I suck my teeth. Flip open the laptop, then wait for the screen to come alive. I click into my web server, then pull up a bridal site. I click on a few butto
ns, bring up my customer account number and show him my order. “Satisfied?” I ask. I step back so he can see for himself, hoping like hell it keeps his suspicions at bay.
“Yeah, aiight. Don’t let me find out some other shit, yo.”
“Some other shit like what, Jasper?”
“Like you tryna fuckin’ play me.”
I huff. “Here we go with this shit again. I don’t know why you always acting so paranoid.”
“’Cause I know how bitches can be.”
“You know what, I’m so sick of you saying that shit. If you feel like every bitch is on it like that, then we need to end this shit, now,” I storm past him, heading back into the bedroom. “You got the wrong one if you think I’m about to keep going through this with you. We need to call off this wedding and be done with this dumb shit. You go on about your business; take care of our baby and leave me the fuck alone. I’m done.”
“Yo, hold the fuck up,” he snaps, grabbing me by the arm.
I yank my arm away. “Get the fuck off of me, nigga.”
He blocks the doorway. “I’m not done talkin’, yo.”
“Well, I am. Now move the fuck out my way.” The only reason I’m talking extra greasy is because I’m pregnant and he’d never hit me while I’m carrying his seed. I try to push him out of the way, but he doesn’t budge. “Nigga, get the fuck out the way.”
“Aye yo, what I tell you ’bout ya mouth? You ’bout to get ya whole front knocked out, word up.”
I fold my arms across my chest defiantly. “Whatever. All I know is I’m sick of this shit with you.”
“Well, you need to get the fuck over that,” he says, eyeing me. “’Cause like I told you before, you ain’t goin’ nowhere, and neither am I. And now you havin’ my seed, it’s a wrap. You stuck wit’ me, baby. So watch ya mouth or get smacked in it.”
I grunt, placing my hands on my hips. “Mmmph. Well, if that’s so, then know this. I’ve rode shit out with you your whole fucking bid. I’ve waited for your black ass to get home, nigga. And don’t think for one fucking minute the shit was easy, because it wasn’t. The next bitch woulda been done bounced on you. But I stayed. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted to. So stop coming at me all aggressive and shit. I’m yours, nigga.”
He smirks, letting his eyes drop down to my hard nipples, then to my stomach. I’m not really showing yet. “Oh, you mine?”
“All yours,” I tell him, stepping up into his space. The tension between us begins to lift. I press my body up against his. Grind my pelvis into him.
“Then get ya ass back in bed.” He steps back to let me by. I glance over my shoulder and catch him staring back at my laptop. “I’m tellin’ you, Pasha, don’t have me fuck you up, yo.”
TWENTY-NINE
Between the long hours at the salon, trying to tie-up last-minute wedding details—like making sure my dress will fit me by the time it’s time to go down the aisle, and Jasper’s constant mood swings, I don’t know if I’m coming or going. Shit, I’m the one who should be on an emotional roller coaster—I’m the one knocked up! But, the way Jasper carries on, you would think he’s the one three months’ pregnant. The nigga’s moods are too damn unpredictable for me, and it’s nerve-wracking. One minute, he’s yelling and cursing and screaming at me; the next minute he’s telling me how much he loves me. A few days’ll go by and everything will be good between us. Then without provocation, his moody ass will flip the switch and start accusing and threatening me. I’m telling you. The way he’s been acting, I have to wonder if he isn’t out there doing his own dirt. I mean, damn! The nigga has me walking on eggshells. I don’t know what little voices he’s hearing in his head, but whatever they’re saying to him has him acting like a certified fool.
Since that last incident a month or so ago when Jasper walked up on me in the middle of the night while I was online, I’ve been keeping it real low-key. That shit was too close for comfort and I don’t need any more close calls like that. I didn’t even go off and meet the nigga like I had planned. And I haven’t been going online looking for extra dick to suck, either. Yes, the thought crossed my mind once or twice…but, that’s it. I’m not doing shit. One, I’m pregnant; and, two, it’s too damn dangerous. Jasper watches and checks every move I make. The last thing I’m interested in is having him snap the fuck out on me. I’m seriously thinking he needs to see someone to help him with whatever is going on with him. I don’t know if it’s nerves or what, but something isn’t right. And it’s starting to get on my last goddamn nerve!
Two weeks ago, he snapped to the point where I thought he was going to have a damn heart attack the way he was screaming and carrying on. “Yo, where the fuck you been at?” he snapped the minute I walked through the door. He caught me off guard, startling me. I dropped my shopping bags.
“Excuse you!” I said with major attitude. He had this wild, crazy look on his face, practically foaming at the mouth. Something told me he would have hit me if I wasn’t pregnant.
“I asked you where the fuck you was at, yo! It’s almost eight-thirty and you just walkin’ up in this muthafucka when you left the shop at five. Pasha, don’t have me beat ya ass, yo.”
“Yeah, nigga, and when I spoke to you this afternoon, I told your black ass that I was going to the mall. So what the fuck is your problem? I’m really getting sick of this shit. Always fucking threatening me. Nigga, if you wanna beat my ass, then do it.” Although I said that, I didn’t really mean it. “I can’t put up with this stress. It’s too much for me. And it’s too much for my baby.”
He glanced down at the shopping bags in the middle of the floor. His tone changed. “Oh, now it’s your baby. Fuck me, right?”
“Yeah, basically,” I said, picking my bags up and brushing past him to go upstairs. “I think you should move out,” I told him, climbing the steps.
