Page 43 of Her Baby His Gift

“I always thought of myself as Superman. Even after the diagnosis, it still didn’t seem real. It’s only been the past couple of weeks that I’ve been staring mortality in the face. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to make sure she’s okay. If the day ever comes, I don’t know how she’ll cope, and I’ll need you to be there for her . . . and the baby.”

“I don’t know if I can make that promise. As a matter of fact, I won’t. You’re going to be here to marry that woman and raise your own damn child.”

Damian knew he was fighting a losing battle and couldn’t expect Harlem and Carter to accept this overnight. It would take time. So, instead of pushing the issue, he spoke softly. “I hope so. I hope so.”

*****

Three weeks later, sandwiched between her parents, Harlem stood over Damian’s casket. Just like that, he was gone. She felt so many emotions. It was a tie between devastation and guilt.

Carter was just numb. Everything happened so fast. It was all a blur. None of it seemed real. He glanced up at Harlem. She would never forgive him for making the decision to take Damian off of life support. He wasn’t sure he could forgive himself. He walked over toward her. “Harlem . . .”

“Don’t.” She slowly raised her head. Her eyes were shooting daggers. “Don’t you ever speak to me.” She stormed off.

Her parents looked at him with sympathy. Her mom touched his arm. “She’s hurt and angry. With time, Harlem will realize that you did the right thing. Damian was suffering at the end. He’s now at peace.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thomas.” Carter needed to hear those words.

Harlem’s mom and dad offered their condolences before walking away. “We are deeply sorry for your loss.”

Carter went back and stood over Damian’s casket long after everyone had left. His head was bowed, his hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he felt utterly alone. The woman he’d been dating the past couple of weeks came to stand by his side. “I know you may not know it now, but you’re going to be just fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chapter 23

Present Day

Carter took Route 137, Buckley Road off-ramp. They were now only about ten to fifteen minutes away from Harlem’s childhood home. She had fallen asleep, and Carter needed to wake her up. He said her name gently. “Harlem.”

At the sound of his voice, she roused from sleep.

Carter squeezed her hand just a little since he hadn’t let it go from earlier. “We’re getting close.”

Harlem began to fully wake. She blinked a few times. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“I can.” Carter laughed. “You were snoring the entire way here.”

Harlem was a little embarrassed because she wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. “I don’t snore. Do I?”

He glanced over and gave her a little shrug and a half-smile. Harlem hadn’t made a sound, but Carter decided to let her think she had.

She almost smiled too. “Whatever. I should text my parents since we are so close.”

Harlem removed her hand from underneath his, and Carter immediately missed the warmth. He tried to shake off the feeling by ignoring it. He used the same hand to turn the steering wheel to make a left turn onto a street called Waukegan Road. His GPS noted they were just a few miles away. Until this moment, Carter hadn’t really thought about how seeing Mr. and Mrs. Thomas was going to go down. The first time they’d met was at Damian’s funeral. This time was different. “How tall is your dad again?”

Harlem was focused entirely on her phone and was texting away. “Don’t you remember from the funeral?”

“That day was kind of a blur.”

Harlem could understand that. “My dad is six-feet and around two-hundred pounds of pure muscle.” She smirked.

Carter had about four inches and twenty pounds over him, not that it would matter. He would never disrespect her dad.

Harlem knew what Carter was thinking and thought it was funny. “I don’t think he’ll do anything to you.” She said underneath her breath. “At least I hope not.”

Damian always managed to get Carter into some shit. Apparently, he was still doing it even from the grave.

Finally, they turned down her parent’s street. Harlem pointed. “It’s the brick house at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

Why was he nervous about meeting her mother and father? This entire experience was foreign and pushed him out of his element. He’d met with powerful men, other billionaires like him, and politicians without so much as a second thought. But Harlem’s dad? There was a little bit of anxiety that had built up in his gut. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t like Carter was Harlem’s boyfriend. They hadn’t conceived this baby together–at least not in the traditional way. And they had only recently decided to become friends. Yet, here he was, performing all the duties of someone in a full-blown relationship. How much support was he supposed to give? The lines were clearly blurred, and it was frustrating.

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