Page 8 of Love's Most Wanted
Once I was dried off, moisturized, and in a lounge dress that hit the middle of my thighs, I whipped up some breakfast consisting of oatmeal, fruit, bacon, and orange juice while I scoured the apartment hunting apps for something in my budget.
Before I could even finish eating my oatmeal, my throat jumped so violently I had to hop up and rush to my trashcan to empty my stomach. After vomiting more than I actually even ate, I paused to catch my breath before a very terrible ass thought hit me—I was possibly pregnant.
AJ and I had always been safe, but when we found out about his season renewal, we celebrated, getting caught up in the moment and didn’t use anything. I brushed it off because we were in love, and he was my endgame, but now I was regretting that.
Also, lingering in the back of my mind was whether I’d fucked Unique or not. But I wouldn’t be throwing up already… or would I? I’d never been pregnant, nor had I been friends with a pregnant person, so I had no idea how soon shit went into effect.
I cleaned up, re-brushed my teeth, and then went to the convenience store located at the bottom of my apartment building to purchase a couple tests. I couldn’t get up to my apartment fast enough, and when I did, I downed a bottle of water and waited a bit before I was able to pee on all four tests.
I paced and paced, praying the milk in my oatmeal had just been bad, or anything but being pregnant because I didn’t want that. It was the wrong time and the wrong man—whether it was Unique or AJ.
The timer set on my iPhone sounded off, making me rush into my en suite to see all four tests had come back positive.
Shutting my eyes, I plopped down on the closed toilet top, shaking my head at myself. I was pregnant by a married man or by a nigga who believed in poly relationships.
This was something I’d take to the fucking grave, though, because it was embarrassing as hell, no matter what way you looked at it.
I was booking the next appointment available to get it terminated as soon as possible. Nothing in this world could make me give birth to a child fathered by AJ, Unique, or any other taken man.
* * *
“Thank you for calling Keystone Medical. This is Deja. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Deja. I need to make an appointment for an abortion please.”
“Alright. Do you know how far along you are?”
“No, but it can’t be that far because it happened about a month and a half ago.”
I heard her typing as she said, “Okay. Will this be an out-of-pocket visit, or do you have insurance?”
“Insurance,” I replied, fishing my medical card from my purse as I sat in my car outside of the apartment building I was about to get a tour of in about twenty minutes.
“Okay, read me the number, please,” she requested. I did as she asked. “It says it is inactive.”
“That cannot be right. Let me read it again to be sure you have it right,” I said, chuckling a little bit.
“Sure,” she replied, and after I read it again, she sighed. “Yeah, it’s saying it is inactive.”
“Umm, okay. Let me call you back.” I hung up before she could say anything and immediately ventured into my insurance app. Right there it stated that it was inactive and that they’d attempted to charge my card, but the transaction failed.
Panicking, I logged into my credit card app, and there was a big red message, letting me know the card had been canceled. Only then, for some reason, did I remember AJ gave me this credit card. I’d gotten so used to having it over the past two years that I didn’t think about the fact that I had so much shit linked to it. More panic set in as I saw all the charges it had declined over the past week, starting from the day I kicked his ass out of the apartment.
Too frazzled to even go look at an apartment right now, I started my car that I’d just gotten from Nissan, brand-new, so I wouldn’t have to drive the BMW AJ had bought me, and peeled off.
I drove right toward the set ofDough Boyz,which I knew like the back of my hand because of the many times AJ had me there, parading me in front of everyone who knew he was married. The thought made me shake my head as I dipped through traffic on the 101 freeway.
After an hour of ignorant LA drivers and traffic, I was at the studio, pulling in with ease since the security at the booth recognized me, and AJ had failed to snatch back the pass he’d given me so I could visit anytime.
I shook my head again, thinking how crazy it was that he was able to make me feel so comfortable when he was married. Who would think that a nigga who gave you a key to his home, a pass to pop up at work, and took you to 90 percent of his public events would be cheating?
But then I remembered how whenever cameras were around, he would tell me to step aside, stating he didn’t want our relationship to eclipse his rising stardom. And I fell for it, recognizing how the media became so engrossed in a person’s personal life that it often times overshadowed their career.
I parked in the area I’d been directed to in the past and then climbed out, walking right inside of the large garage where a lot of scenes took place. It was like God was on my side because I spotted AJ’s ass right away, off to the side getting his makeup touched up.
“You cut off the card and couldn’t tell me, you bastard!” I snapped, and before I could charge him, I was grabbed by security.
“You think you ’bout to leave me and still use my fucking credit?” AJ frowned, and though I agreed with him, I was still pissed off.
