Stuck In Love With A Thug

007.

Lanette

Part 2

I knew I was beautiful, and I had given my all to this nigga, just for him to love me. Yet, he still didn't love me or even act as if he had love for me. This shit was becoming frustrating as fuck. All I wanted to know was what I was doing wrong in this relationship. I was desperate to fix the shit. That's just how much I was feeling his ass.

"Damian... Damian." I shook him.

"The fuck you shaking me for? You don't see what time it is? We got shit to do in the morning," he snapped.

"I know that, but I just need to talk to you about something. Something that has been bothering me for some time now," I said.

"I'm trying to get some sleep, brah. That shit can wait until morning."

"Damian, I haven't seen my period this month. I didn't want to say anything to you about it because lately, you've been tripping. You been acting really strange as if you ain't fucking with me like that, so I'm scared. I haven't taken a pregnancy test or nothing like that yet, but I want to know, if I am pregnant, will you be there for me and the baby?" I asked.

He didn't respond but kept lying on his side like I hadn't told him anything important.

"Damian, you gonna say something?"

"I'll take you to get an abortion when we get back to the A," he finally said.

"You know what? Fuck you! Take me home first thing tomorrow morning!" I hit him with the pillow and walked to the let out couch.

I couldn't see myself sleeping in the same bed as a nigga who would straight up tell me to have an abortion. I wasn't the type to joke about serious shit and had never played with Rion in such a way, so I didn't know why he wasn't taking what I said seriously. This whole trip had me feeling like I was nothing to this man. His responses, actions, and attitude just showed me that he didn't want to be bothered with my ass.

I felt so stupid. There I was, skipping school again with this clown, risking my education, and possibly carrying his child, but he still didn't give a fuck about me. I had to get my shit together. God forbid I was really pregnant. My mama would probably disown me, and I'd break my father's heart. They were rooting for me so hard, and there I was, not giving a fuck behind their backs.

The next morning...

An overwhelming jolt of nausea woke me up, and I ran to the bathroom, throwing up everything I ate and drank last night. I felt like shit, and my lightheadedness was getting worse by the minute.

"Hurry yo' slow ass up. We got to move, ma," Damian yelled from outside the bathroom.

"I'm coming! I told you I was sick!" I yelled back.

Once I finished throwing up, I grabbed a towel and cleaned my face. Then I touched up my makeup and walked out the bathroom door.

Damian had taken our bags to the car, and it was time to head back home. It was hard for me to get comfortable in the passenger seat this trip because my stomach felt like it was in knots. I knew I was pregnant. I had to be. My body was going through so much, and while searching online, I found out that I was experiencing a lot of pregnancy symptoms. My breasts were sore, I was more tired, and my period hadn't come on.