Page 24 of Sunday

I was fired up.

“Would you at least think about it before just giving a final answer? You’re all I have, Cedar. You know my mama and daddy turned their backs on me, and Monica’s family are supportive, but she doesn’t feel comfortable asking her brothers to do it.”

Taylor’s parents were a bishop and a first lady of a mega church. I had known they were going to be outraged when they found out about her lifestyle. They had begged me to convince her to go to counseling and wanted to know what they could do to help us save our marriage. I walked out and didn’t look back. There was nothing else I could do or wanted to do.

“Please,” Taylor persisted.

“I need to go.”

“Will you at least think about it?”

I sighed and dragged my hand down my face. I couldn’t consider being someone else’s father when I might very well have a little shorty of my own on the way.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you so much, Cedar.”

“I ain’t making no promises, Tay.”

“I know. But you’re not shutting me out completely, either. That’s more than I have the right to ask for. So, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

I ended the call without saying goodbye. That phone call had wreaked havoc on my emotions. What was worse was that I knew I shouldn’t have taken her call. Once she set her face to ask me to father their child, I knew that I should have ended that call. I should have been in that bathroom or at least in the bedroom by Sunday’s side.

Instead, I had allowed Taylor to do what she’d always done—manipulate her way back into my life and pull me away from what was most important. I left my phone on the bed and headed back to Sunday’s bedroom.

I heard a soft sobbing when I entered. I knocked gently on the bathroom door, and when I received no response, I turned the doorknob. Surprisingly, it turned in my hand, and I pushed the door open.

I stepped inside and took one look at her, and my heart crumbled. Sunday’s beautiful, gingerbread-colored skin was mottled with red, and those warm brown eyes were swollen and red. I knelt before her and took her hands in mine.

“Sunny.”

My voice was soft but firm and forced her to look up at me.

“Cedar.” She sobbed.

“Hey, it can’t be that bad. Please, don’t do this. I can’t stand to see you cry and hurt like this. Tell me what I can do to make it better, beautiful.”

I wanted to hold her and kiss away the pain. I wanted so much from her, yet my heart was afraid to believe, afraid to love, and afraid to let go.

She shook her head and pulled one hand free. She pressed it against her mouth and tried unsuccessfully to smother her sob.

“Why’re you crying?”

She thrust her head toward the counter. I released her other hand, stood, and took in the neat row of five pregnancy tests.

One had a blue plus sign. The second test had a dark pink line and another subtler pink line. The third had two lines.

“What do these lines and the plus signs mean?” I asked, although I thought I knew.

“The same thing as the last two.”

I glanced at the last two. One read pregnant with a plus symbol, and the other simply read, “Pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant, Sunday?”

“It seems like.”

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