Page 4 of Unlucky You

That was the problem; it broke me down each time she had to give.

“Baby…”

“Ma, I’m straight. Let me figure things out and I’ll do my best to get by there today.”

“Okay. He wants to see you. Been asking about you.”

“Yeah?”

“He has and I need you to stop all those unnecessary thoughts you keep getting hung up on. That baby doesn’t care about all the things you worry yourself with. He doesn’t need you to have your life together or have it all figured out. He just needs you, Grand. He’s been without you for so long. All that matters is you being present.”

Another gut punch.

Four years and eight months.

That was how much time I’d missed. I couldn’t make up for not being around but I would spend the rest of my life trying.

“I know, Ma. I’ll get by there. How’s he doing?”

Two weeks had passed since I regained my freedom. I hadn’t seen my son yet. I wasn’t ready to see him now but my mother wouldn’t let me keep avoiding the inevitable. I felt like a failure. I wanted to be something when he laid eyes on me and I wasn’t there yet.

“Good. My baby is so smart. His teachers want to move him up a grade…”

My brows pinched. “Nah, don’t let ’em do that. That’s gonna force him to grow up faster than he needs to, trying to compete with those older kids. Just let him take some advanced classes or something but he needs to be with kids his own age. His friends.”

“Whatever you decide is fine, baby. Not my decision to make anymore. I already told Mrs. Gleason I needed to talk it over with you.”

It wasn’t really my decision to make. She knew him best. She was there with him daily but my mother had been adamant about me stepping into my role as his father. I was still struggling with doing so. I had my own demons and they wouldn’t disappear because my time was served.

A life sentence.

That was what I’d condemned myself to.

“Preciate that, Ma. I’ll be by there soon.”

“Okay, baby. I love you and you hang in there. You’re gonna be alright.”

I smiled and it was genuine. The way this woman loved me was enough most days. Not always, because I was still struggling internally, but I would take what I could get.

“Love you too.”

…but I’m never going to be alright.

As soon as I ended the call, another one came through. I frowned at the screen when I recognized the number and hit ignore. My PO was doing too fucking much. In the past two weeks, she had been blowing up my phone with texts and photos, telling me it was just a little something to keep me occupied.

Since the day she was assigned to my case, she had been trying to sit on my dick. The shit was annoying because the only thing I was currently focused on was figuring out my life and building a relationship with my son. I even asked to be switched to a new person and whatever she told them got me denied. Witha building irritation, I jerked a hand down my face, exhaling my frustration.

I tossed the phone on the bed, stood, and extended my arms over my head to stretch my back. My mattress wasn’t the best but it was damn sure better than what I had been acclimated to for the past five years. That also accounted for my apartment. It was a small, one bedroom, one bath, nothing special. The only thing I had so far was a queen bed on a frame, no headboard because it wasn’t a set, just a bed. A long dresser was positioned on the wall across from it and a small wooden chair sat in the corner of the room that belonged to the tiny dinette set next to the kitchen.

My living room was basic as hell too with a small, microfiber loveseat, forty-eight inch TV which sat on a cheap wooden stand, and folding trays.

Either way, I was grateful. It was mine. My mother paid the rent for two months to get me in the place and had the furniture delivered the day I was released. That was all I would allow her to do and as soon as I had the money, what she paid was going back into her account.

I was grateful, but still, I was a man and needed to stand on my own.

A man who lost everything.

Instead of traveling down that road, I got dressed for the day in jeans, a t-shirt, and Nike running shoes. Simple shit, but again, I was grateful. Using the money my mother had hit me with, I picked up a few things, mostly necessities.

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