Page 60 of Free to Fall

I didn’t answer right away. Just closed my eyes and took a breath. “I made the appointment,” I whispered. “Went to the clinic and everything, but I couldn’t do it.”

His breath caught, and when I looked at him, his eyes were wide with relief. “Egypt…”

“I was gonna tell you,” I said, cutting him off. “Eventually. But I needed time.”

He nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you, for not going through with it. I swear I’m gon’ do right by this baby. Whatever it takes.”

“Even if that means doing it without me?” I asked softly.

He looked at me, chest rising. “If that’s what you need,” he said. “Then yeah. I’ll still show up. Every day.” I swallowed hard. “I still love you,” he added, voice thick. “I never stopped. And I know I fucked this up in the worst way, but if there’s a chance to fix it…I’m gon’ try. I just need you to let me.”

I looked down at my lap, tears threatening again. “I forgive you,” I said. “But I can’t be with you right now. I’m still hurt. I don’t trust you like I used to.”

He nodded, accepting that. “How far along are you?”

“Almost ten weeks.”

He exhaled. “You been to the doctor?”

“Yeah. I found an OB out here,” I said. “But I’m going back to LA next week. I’ll see my doctor as soon as I get back.”

“Can I be there?”

I hesitated but nodded. “Yeah. You can be there.”

We sat in silence for a minute before he cleared his throat. “Your Nana set up the other guest room for me,” he said. “Said I should stay here… if that’s okay.”

I looked at him, really looked at him. And for the first time in weeks, the weight on my chest lifted just a little. “It’s okay,” I said. “But you stay on your side of the house.”

He smirked. “Yes ma’am.”

I stood up, brushing imaginary lint off my legs. “Goodnight, Nasseem.”

“Goodnight, Egypt.”

And with that, I walked inside, down the hall to my childhood room, and shut the door quietly behind me. My heart still aching. But not completely broken anymore.

The days passed slowerin Memphis, but somehow…they were starting to feel lighter. Nasseem had been on his best behavior. Still annoyingly fine, still stubborn, but softer than I remembered. He kept trying to flirt like I didn’t want to slap him just a week ago. Like he didn’t crush me and leave me picking upthe shattered pieces of what we had. But I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t chipping away at my defenses.

My Nana was no help, either. She acted like Nas was her new favorite grandson, always laughing at his dumb jokes and asking him to open jars, lift things, or sit with her for a spell when she was bored. She even started requesting him to bring her, her tea instead of me. I was annoyed…and slightly charmed. Which was more annoying.

While he sat up under her like some adopted grandson, I was back in the studio, working. Averi had sent me a new track a few days ago—slow but groovy, a little sensual, little vulnerable. I’d been scribbling down lyrics all day between studio takes, letting my thoughts bleed into the page. It was calledLove Me Loud.

I was halfway through the second verse when I paused the track, picked up my phone, and hit FaceTime. Averi answered on the third ring, camera angle giving me nothing but her perfectly laid lace and gold hoops. “Bitch, I miss you.”

“Girl,” I sighed dramatically, flopping back in the studio chair. “You got any idea how ghetto it is recording without Terri? This man is cool, but he ain’t her.”

“You ready to go home yet or nah?” she teased. “Royal said we miss you out here.”

Just then I heard him in the background, “Who you talkin’ to?”

Averi turned the camera slightly. “Your favorite Sister.”

Royal grinned. “Yo’, what up, Sis?”

“Hey Brother. I actually got something for you.” I turned the camera so he could hear the track I’d been working on and let it ride for about thirty seconds.

“That’s fire,” he nodded, head bobbing. “You want me on it?”

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