Page 47 of Free to Fall

I pulled her in and kissed her—deep, slow, with everything in me. Her arms slid around my shoulders, and she melted into me like she’d always belonged there.

“You still ridin’ wit me?” I asked, my voice low in her ear.

“Always,” she whispered. “Whatever we gotta face, we’ll face it together.”

And just like that, I knew this was home. Not the crib, not the city. Her.

13

EGYPT

Iwas in the Aaliyah booth at the studio, headphones over my ears, trying to push through this recording session. My voice was steady, but my stomach had been flipping all morning. Still, I forced myself to deliver the hook of this new record, one I’d just written with Averi:

Don’t take your hands off me, no

Grip tight like you never gon’ go

You read my body like your favorite song

Feelin’ like heaven but it’s all so wrong

Baby, don’t take your hands off me…

I hit the last note, ripped off the headphones, and bolted. The door barely shut behind me before I was on my knees in the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet. My whole body trembled and sweat collected at the back of my neck. The door creaked, and Averi peeked her head in.

“Egypt? You good?”

I wiped my mouth, nodding. “Yeah, just… think I ate something bad. I’ll be alright.”

“You sure? You look pale. And you’ve been off for days.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to go home.”

Averi watched me too close, her eyes sharp. “You think you could be pregnant?”

I blinked. “What? No. I’m on birth control.”

“Okay, but you told me you missed a few days, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. But I caught up. I talked to my doctor, and she said as long as I caught up and resumed my normal dosage, I should be fine. Plus, I got my period I was cramping and everything.”

“Still, that don’t mean anything. Some women bleed while pregnant. You’ve been nauseous, boobs sore, mood swings like hell—Terri told me she was on the verge of cussin’ yo ass out the other day.”

I said nothing. I didn’t want to feed the panic rising in my chest. When I left the studio, I told my driver to stop at Walgreens. I threw on a hoodie, sunglasses, a mask—looking like a damn ghost of myself as I grabbed three different pregnancy tests. The cashier didn’t even blink.

When I got home, I poured myself a glass of water with shaking hands and locked myself in the bathroom. Cup…Pee… Dip… Wait. Three minutes later, all three sticks glowed with two pink lines. I dropped down on the edge of the tub, clutching the countertop like it would save me. Pregnant? I was pregnant.

I didn’t know what to feel. Joy? Terror? This was supposed to be beautiful—hell, I’d always wanted to be a mom—but this timing? My music career was finally blooming, and me and Nas were still learning how to breathe in this relationship. We hadn’t even talked about a future. We were barely talking about now.

Still… if I was gonna have a baby with anybody, it might as well be the man I couldn’t stop falling for. He was good with our nieces and nephews—Serenity and Ari’s kids. He was patient, loving and protective. Finally, I made up my mind—I was keeping it; just needed to tell him to make sure we were on the same page. I knew we would be, but still, you never know.

I cooked that night. Pasta carbonara, garlic bread, Caesar salad. I even lit a candle. I wanted it to feel warm when I told him. He showed up a little after eight, and I opened the door, forcing a smile even though my stomach was back to doing somersaults.

“Damn, somethin’ smell good,” he said, leaning in to kiss my lips.

“You hungry?” I asked closing the door behind him. He threw his keys on the table by my front door.

“I’m starvin. I been dealin’ with Nate’s bullshit all day. Nigga stay doin’ the most.”

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