Page 84 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
I felt like shit. I punched the roof of my car before starting the engine, my knuckles already throbbing.
This couldn’t be over. I wouldn’t let it be.
Later that night…
The bottle of Hennessy sat half-empty on my kitchen island as I stared out at the city lights, my mind replaying the day over and over like a broken record. I should’ve been cooking dinner for my woman right now. Then taking her for a ride on the back of my bike, so she could get her hit of adrenaline. We would’ve ended up on her back patio afterward, her still buzzing from the adrenaline, listening to her talk about her classes while Samaj complained about whatever teenage drama was happening in his world.
Instead, I was alone in my boring ass house, drinking away the image of Sametra’s face when she found out about the pregnancy. The way her hand had shaken when she wiped her mouth. The devastation in her eyes when she realized both me and Samaj had kept secrets from her.
I was going to be a father.
The thought hit me fresh every few minutes, making my chest tight with a mixture of pure joy and complete terror. A baby. Our baby. Everything I’d ever wanted was right there—the woman I loved, a family to build together, a future that looked like everything I’d never dared to dream of.
Because I’d given up on this. For years, I’d convinced myself I was built different, that I didn’t need what other men seemed to chase. I’d watched my friend and cousins get married, have kids, build families, and told myself I was content with my career, my house, my perfectly controlled life. I knew she was out there somewhere. I knew there was a woman who’d make it all make sense, but I’d stopped actively looking, stopped believing it would happen for me. I said if it was for me, God would drop her in my lap, and I’d know.
Then Sametra was wheeled into that hospital room, and just eighteen hours later, I’d meet the woman I’d been waiting for and hoping for. I hadn’t even heard her voice yet, but something about her, even unconscious, even bruised from the accident, called to me in a way I couldn’t explain. But when she finally spoke, when those eyes opened and looked right through me, every wall I’d built around my heart crumbled in an instant. The way she looked at me, the way she loved her son unapologetically, the way she lit up a room, I couldn’t get enough of her. I should’ve known something this perfect would come with a test.
And I’d failed it spectacularly. Fucked it all up by trying to protect her instead of trusting her to be the strong woman I’d fallen in love with.
I took another swig, letting the burn settle in my throat. In Alabama, everything had been perfect. Watching her with Mama, seeing Samaj fit in with my cousins like he’d always been part of the family, lying under the stars talking about our future,it felt like we’d found our rhythm. Like all the pieces were finally falling into place.
We’d talked about kids that night. How many we wanted, what we’d name them, whether they’d have her stubborn streak or my mama’s sweet tooth. She’d curled into my chest and whispered about wanting to give Samaj a little brother or sister, about building the family she’d always dreamed of.
Now she was carrying my child and looking at me like I was the enemy.
My phone buzzed with a text from Samaj.
Maj: She ate the food you sent. Still not talking much, but she’s resting.
At least she was taking care of herself. Taking care of our baby.
Our baby.
I called him, needing to hear his voice, needing to know where his head was with everything that had been revealed today.
“Sup.”
“You good? And I mean about the news you heard, too. I don’t want you to feel some type of way. This wasn’t planned.”
“I’m not mad. I’m stunned, but I hope it’s a girl. I want a little sister, man.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and that sent me even deeper into my feelings.
“You know what comes with the territory, right? We gon be doing a lot of head bussin’ if niggas even look at her wrong.”
“I hope she understands that,” he laughed, and for a moment, it felt like things might be okay. Like maybe I hadn’t completely destroyed this family I’d found. “It’s not right, but it’s on gang.”
“Forever up. How’s my baby for real?” We shared a laugh before he replied.
“Upset. Halo and Winnie are coming over tonight or tomorrow. So maybe that’s a start.”
“Yeah, maybe. Btu you know how women get. I’m about to be all types of fuck niggas and some more. But I’ll hit you tomorrow, to check in aight?”
“Bet.”
We disconnected, and I ran my hands over my face, trying to process it all. In nine months, I’d be holding my child. Teaching them to walk, to talk, to throw a football. Reading bedtime stories and checking for monsters under the bed. All the things my father never did for me.
The thought sobered me up quick. What if I was already fucking this up the way he had? What if keeping secrets and making unilateral decisions was just the beginning of me failing this kid before they were even born?
Before I knew it, I’d hurled the glass across the kitchen, watching it shatter against the wall. The sound echoed through my empty house, and all I could think about was how quiet it was without her laughter filling the space.
