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“I’m… um… pregnant!” I blurted out in between moans. The words spilled out, and he lifted his face to look at me. “That’s not how this works. You get pregnant after I fuck you.”
“Kellon, we can’t. Did you hear what I said?” “You’re pregnant,” he said, staring at me. His face was wet with my juices. “I heard you. Is that why this pussy so wet and sweet?”
“But me being pregnant is a huge factor. I’ll be taking on something new, and I don’t know if I have time to invest in getting to know you.” “We’ll both be experiencing something new then. You’ve never been pregnant before, and I’ve never dated anyone pregnant. We can figure this shit out at the same damn time.”
“I know what I want, Phileigh, and I intend to apply the necessary pressure to get it. I want to get to know you, Phileigh Cheese, baby or not. Can you allow me the rest of the week to do so?
“Wait. Is this baby Phileigh Cheese?”
“As far as I’m concerned, this is my baby now. I don’t care who helped you conceive it. God put y’all in my presence for a reason, and I’m not about to fumble this.”
“Don’t you even think about depriving little Phileigh Cheese so you can watch your figure. Give her what she wants, and I’ll work those extra pounds off you later, da fuck?”
“Wait!” he shouted as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He swiped a few times before turning it to face me. “I don’t have any condoms on me. I wasn’t expecting us to go there… but I’m clean. You see the date?” I stared at his phone. My eyes swept over the STD chart, and I nodded. It was taken just a few weeks ago on February first. “I’m clean too. I don’t have my records but—” “I trust you. That was for you and the baby. I want you to know I’d never put you all in harm’s way.” He didn’t have to say that because I already felt that to be true. “I know.” I kissed his lips.
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“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, and that includes football. I don’t care how complicated this shit is or how complicated it’ll get. I want this. I want you. I want the baby and everything that comes with that. I’m not some nigga that needs time to figure out if you’re the one. I know you are, so why waste time?”
“Naw, nigga, don’t come at my girl like that. Control your situation and leave mine alone. We’re good over here. Phileigh good. Your baby good. A real nigga stepped up. Don’t call my phone again, nigga. And don’t make any more pop-up visits to see her either.”
“This is a promise ring, not an engagement ring. Not yet. But a promise that we’re family no matter what happens between us. You, me, and Baby J. This is real for me, Phee.”
“Phileigh Cheese, I’ve loved you since that day I saw you posted up in that stairwell, hiding away from the world.” I took a deep breath to blow away my nerves. “You looked like you needed a friend. I didn’t know if it was really me that needed you and Baby J. Baby, you have brought me peace. You’ve made me a father. You’ve made me a better man. Baby, you made me believe that happiness isn’t just something other people get to have. It’s something I can have because I deserve it.”
“I couldn’t let Baby J come into this world without us being an official family. So, Phileigh Read… my favorite number three at O’Charley’s… will you marry me?”
J, I hope you always know I wanted to be your father before I ever saw you. You changed my life just by existing. Still, if you’re reading this, then it means you’re old enough to start asking questions. You may have read something online or heard something from a friend that has made you question who your family is. There are answers in this letter that will be best coming from me. The truth is, Ty, I’m not your biological father. I didn’t help make you. I didn’t give you your DNA, your eyes, your blood type. But understand this and never forget it. I chose you. Every single day, I chose to
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“Thank you. Thank you for stepping up when everyone else passed.” “Thank you for sitting in that stairwell.”
