Page 18 of It's Love I'm After

“Wow. Wow,” I express while rereading Chaniya’s words because I had no idea she had a baby.

My body overheats, and my eyes are stuck on the message, trying to determine whether this is a deal breaker. Chaniya wouldn’t be the first woman I’ve pursued or dated with a kid, but my previous experiences have left me a bit jaded. I had seen and heard a lot from women who were settling with me because their child’s father didn’t want them. Or they were still sleeping with him while entertaining me. What has me the most hesitant is the past experience that had me ready to lock the woman down only for her to pop up pregnant by the deadbeat baby daddy.

“Damn. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, she tanked your battleship that fast. Aye, cuz, do you know any head doctors? My boy can’t keep going through this depressive state.” Jarrod’s voice penetrates my ears.

“Fuck you. Aye, Kyree, can you take this nigga home? I gotta make a run.”

“Wow. I get it, though. You need time to cry alone in the car. Be easy, bro. It’ll get better.” Jarrod smirks before jogging toward the back of the garage when I stand.

Flipping him off, I head out of the shop without another word because although I’m not gonna cry in my car, I do need time to process the bomb Chaniya just dropped.

“Fee, fi, fo, fum, walk away while you’re still numb,” I chant while playing with the honey nut Cheerios on my table. “Red fish, blue fish, should I take a chance with this fish?” Picking up a dry Cheerio, I throw it in my mouth.

I have no idea why my overly grown ass is chanting nursery rhymes or playing with this cereal. Yet, my mind has been consumed with how I should handle Chaniya having a child. I’m unsure how it will affect what I desperately want to build withher. While my mind is in turmoil, my bitch ass heart is crying at the thought of walking away. My mind wants me to disappear without a trace, but my dumb ass heart wants me to see how things go.

*bzz*

Chaniya: Can you call me?

My heart races, and my chest stretches upon reading Chaniya’s text because I still haven’t decided what to do. Dialing Chaniya’s number, I get up from the table and head to the living room before plopping on the couch just as the call connects.

“Hello, stranger.”

My dick twitches at the soft, melodic voice hitting my ear, which causes me to lick my lips before replying.

“My bad. I’ve been working longer hours at the hospital due to an increase in laboring mothers. I-uh, was gonna call you, but time hasn’t been on my side. How are you, though?”

When did you become a rambler?

Hanging my head, I rub circles on my chest when a dull ache forms as I wait for Chaniya to speak.

“Hm. Okay. I understand busy schedules and all. I just was wondering why I didn’t hear anything after telling you about my son. I was wondering if you still wanted to be friends or if my being a mother has turned you off? I also sent you a friend request on Facebook that’s been ignored. What’s up, Mr. Malone? Are you ghosting me?”

I saw Chaniya’s friend request but left it in the cue while I attempted to figure out how I wanted to proceed with whatever this thing is between us.

Oh, that’s cute. Now, you don’t know how to define your desire to be with this woman. Wow. Tighten up, nigga. A baby ain’t the worst thing this woman could have shared with you.

“My bad, Chaniya. No, I’m not trying to ghost your pretty ass. I’m also not interested in being your friend. Friends are platonic, and that’s the last thing I want from you.”

“Oh really? What do you want from me, then?” The laughter and a tinge of merriment in Chaniya’s voice make me smirk at her subtle way of questioning my objective concerning us.

“To be your man, Chaniya. What do you think about that?”

“I think I can be open to giving you a test run.”

Chuckling, I shake my head because, who the hell poses such a thing with someone who wants them?

“A test run?”

“Mhm. The fact that I had to reach out to you when you’ve previously been gung-ho about contacting me, protecting me, and pursuing me makes my suggestion necessary. At thirty-two, I’m too old to continue letting you niggas play in my face. Either you want to be serious about being in a relationship or you don’t. The choice is yours, but the agreement to make things permanent is mine. I suggest you react accordingly.” With that, Chaniya disconnects the call, and my dick hardens while pushing against my pants at her boss lady move.

“Damn. You better put me in my fucking place then.” Dropping my phone on the couch, I head to my bedroom to take a cold shower to relieve the pressure in my dick.

“Hey, Son. What brings you by? Your mom is at her line dance class.” Dad greets me when I enter the den, before standing from his recliner and pulling me into a one-arm hug.

“Oh, okay. I didn’t want anything, just came to see how you were, that’s all. I didn’t know Ma was doing a class like that.”

I want to talk to Dad about Chaniya, but I need to feel him out before jumping into a conversation that could become heavy. While I’m 89 percent sure that I’m going to continue pursuing Chaniya, there’s still a lingering 11 percent doubt within me. Unlike the others who fit Chaniya’s situation, my feelings for Chaniya are deeper. I can see myself putting a ring on Chaniya’s finger in the future and giving her children for us to raise together.

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