Page 49 of Unexpected Pass

“No, thank you!” The words erupted from my lips before I had time to think. “I want my baby! You don’t get to make decisions about my body.”

His face twisted. “You want to blow up both of our spots over a baby?”

“Blow up yo’ spot. You’re the only one engaged.”

“How many clients you think you gon’ get when they find out you just another homewrecking gold digger,” he spat, and it wasclear this wasn’t the same charming man I’d been dealing with for the past six months.

“I don’t care what anybody thinks about me. I’m not killing my baby!” I pulled away from him. As far as I was concerned, this conversation was over.

“I’m not about to deal with this shit. Just… do the right thing or be prepared to be a broke ass single mom. My lawyers will eat your ass up in court, and you’ll never see a dime of child support.”

He abruptly shoved an envelope toward me, and I caught it reflexively. “What is this?”

“Money for an abortion,” he said, turning on his heel. “Hit me when it’s done, and I’ll bring you something for your pockets with the NDA.”

“Reggie!”

I threw the envelope in his direction with tears staining my face.

“I’m not killing my baby!” I shouted, but he didn’t look back as he opened the door and walked out. The door swung shut with a definitive click, leaving me there ugly crying on top of Lolo’s desk.

“Phileigh!” Lolo pushed the door open and rushed to me, grabbing the envelope off the floor and wrapping me in a hug. “What did that bastard say to you?”

“Get an abortion.” I pointed toward the envelope in her hand as tears flooded my face.

This was not how I pictured beginning motherhood. Lolo ripped open the envelope, pulling out a stack of hundred dollar bills, and my breath caught in my throat as she counted it.

“It’s $2,000 dollars here,” Lolo said.

My heart sank.

“I guess we are going baby shopping tonight.” Lolo tried to lighten the mood.

“Why aren’t men assholes right out the gate? Why don’t they show their true colors from jump?” I sobbed into her shoulder. “He can’t just demand me to kill my baby because he doesn’t want it!”

“Fuck him, Phileigh,” Lolo said firmly, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “You don’t need him, and this isn’t his call. This is your body, your choice. Mama’s baby… You know the saying.”

“I hate him,” I muttered, feeling defeated. I was just beginning to come to terms with the fact that I had to raise a child by myself, but a little part of me was hoping that Reggie would come around. Now, I knew that wasn’t happening.

“I know you do, bestie.” She pulled me in tighter. “Reggie is going to get his karma. Just you wait and see.”

I sniffled, wiping my tears. “I hope he stubs his toe and his new barber pushes his lining back to his damn ears.”

“Pushes it back until he has to use that damn black spray to fix it!” Lolo added, causing me to laugh.

“There’s that beautiful smile. Life is too short to be stressing over that loser. Don’t let him steal your joy. You’re bringing a child into this world, and that’s a beautiful blessing.”

I smiled at my best friend. If nobody else in this world had me, I knew she did, and I appreciated her support.

“Thank you, Lolo.”

“You and the baby gon’ be just fine,” she said just as the door to the shop chimed, letting us know someone had entered.

“I gotta get back out there. Take a minute if you need it.” Lolo patted my back before walking out of her office.

Wiping my tears, I took a few deep breaths and dropped the money inside the purse I kept in Lolo’s office. Reggie had to be smoking the good crack if he thought I was going to kill my baby to spare his fiancée’s feelings. If anything, she needed to know who she was marrying. Grabbing my phone, I went to my Picsgram account and typed in the username that wasattached to their viral engagement post. There she was, happy and smiling holding up her ring in her profile picture. Without a second thought about the consequences, I clicked on her inbox and typed eight simple words along with my ultrasound photo.

Phileighthebarber:I’m pregnant by Reggie and I’m keeping it.

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