Three weeks had passed since Lionel's departure from Jamaica, his destination set for the United States, where he aimed to address pressing business matters and the unresolved situation with his friend, Maxwell. Throughout this period, he maintained a consistent pattern of reaching out to me both in the morning and evening. It was evident from his calls that frustration had begun to consume him.
Today, my workday and week came to an end promptly at 4 pm. As I left the office, I made my way to the local supermarket with a list of items needed for the upcoming week. Working alongside Trey, Lionel's nephew, had proven to be a rewarding experience thus far, and the staff had proven to be an exceptional team.
Upon arriving at the supermarket, I efficiently gathered essentials from the shelves - cereal, coconut milk, an assortment of seasonings, shrimp, and pasta, all neatly organized in my shopping cart. My mind, however, occasionally wandered towards my cravings, particularly for chocolates and popcorn.
As I ventured down the aisle to satiate my desire for sweet indulgence, a sudden realization disrupted my thoughts. It was an alarming moment of revelation - I hadn't seen my menstrual cycle. In the midst of this unsettling revelation, my grip faltered, and a Snickers bar slipped from my hand. Someone kindly retrieved it for me, and when I looked up to express my gratitude, I was taken aback.
Before me stood Kimberly, someone with whom I hadn't exchanged a word since June. Her attire was striking, a red polo shirt paired with a white jeans skirt and white Bridgette sandals. Her curly hair flowed gracefully down her shoulders.She looked tired as her eyes were droopy .We found ourselves locked in an unexpected gaze, mutual shock evident in our expressions.
"Hi, Sasha," she finally uttered, breaking the silence. I could only manage a nod in response. The astonishment was not only rooted in our unexpected encounter but also in the unsettling combination of factors: my absent menstrual cycle, heightened cravings, and sore nipples, all conspiring to create a perplexing situation that demanded my immediate attention.
" Can we meet up and talk " she asked.
Kimberly's request hung in the air, a pivotal moment in our complex history. With questions and uncertainties weighing on my mind, I reluctantly agreed, "Sure, tomorrow at 1 pm would be a suitable time for us to meet at the charming Yummy Cafe." As the words left my lips, Kimberly nodded, and we exchanged our goodbyes.
The weight of her impending revelations left me feeling overwhelmed , my heart heavy with anticipation. On the way, my thoughts led me to an unusual shopping list: four boxes of pregnancy tests and a tub of creamy pistachio ice cream, a reflection of the uncharted territory our friendship was about to tread.
In the comforting embrace of my home, I diligently stowed away the freshly acquired groceries, a silent precursor to the life-altering moments that lay ahead. With a sense of purpose, I made my way to the bathroom, the epicenter of my introspection. Shedding the attire of the day, I exchanged it for something that embodied a cloak of vulnerability, standing before the mirror in silent contemplation.
Four pregnancy tests, each a harbinger of profound change,I peed on all four then I methodically arranged them on the bathroom vanity. Their stoic presence served as a silent reminder of the impending revelation. Seeking solace in the ritual of self-care, I turned to the shower, where the warm waters and the delicate embrace of coconut-scented shower gel conspired to soothe frayed nerves.
As I stood beneath the cascading water, my thoughts swirled like the currents around me. The turmoil within me showed no signs of abating, even as the fragrant lather enveloped me. The pregnancy tests waited patiently on the vanity, poised to unveil the answer to the most profound question of all.
Lionel POV
As I sat in my office with a mere three days remaining in the process of settling my business affairs in the bustling heart of New York City, I found myself gazing out through the towering glass windows that offered a breathtaking panorama of the city's luminous skyline. The metropolis was alive, its denizens weaving through the streets, engaged in their daily routines of shopping, commuting, and embracing the vibrant tapestry of urban existence.
Amidst this captivating spectacle, my thoughts wandered to a disconcerting chapter in my life, one that had unfolded over the course of a quarter-century. It was a contemplation of human nature and the intricate interplay of trust and betrayal, a somber revelation of how the insidious allure of avarice could lead a dear friend astray. My mind delved into the painful truth that this individual, whom I had known and trusted for over two decades, had committed the unthinkable act of stealing from me and attempting to manipulate my life.
The emotional tumult continued to unfold, revealing another distressing facet of this narrative. It was a revelation of a profound betrayal, an affair that had transpired in the shadows, unbeknownst to me, as my former spouse and this same friend clandestinely conspired. This discovery bore the weight of a double betrayal, as the intimacy they shared unfolded during the very years of our marriage.
In this tumultuous moment, I found myself facing not only the scars of the past but the potential for a new beginning. I had discovered a person with whom I was prepared to share my aspirations, my hopes, and my very essence. She, too, was on a journey of self-discovery, a path that demanded she find her authentic self above all else. It was a pivotal juncture in our lives, an imperative to embark on a future together, marked by mutual growth and enlightenment.
In the bustling atmosphere of my office, I instructed my dedicated secretary, Ms. Yvette, to meticulously pack my belongings for shipment to Jamaica. Expressing gratitude for her years of unwavering service, I presented her with a substantial cheque of $150,000. Ms. Yvette, a widow since the age of 30, had been an integral part of our familial business since she was 18, having served faithfully alongside my father.
Adorned in a sleek black skirt, a crisply buttoned white top, and comfortable black flats, Ms. Yvette radiated an air of timeless elegance. Her dark chocolate complexion complemented her petite stature, while her brown eyes reflected a wealth of experience. Remarkably astonishing for an octogenarian, she wore her years with grace.
Despite my attempts to usher her into a well-deserved retirement, Ms. Yvette steadfastly resisted. As she gazed at the cheque, a genuine smile illuminated her face, revealing dimples that hinted at a lifetime of stories. In a spontaneous gesture, she enveloped me in a warm embrace, expressing heartfelt gratitude, "Mr. Lionel, thank you very much. You paid for my home and now I can take trips. I will miss you. Continue to be the man your dad taught you to be."
In that decisive moment, the resolve to embark on a journey to Jamaica crystallized in my mind. With every document meticulously signed and all salary matters duly attended to, the urgency to be with Sasha gripped me. Swiftly, I summoned my trusted pilot, conveying my desire to take flight within 45 minutes. His assurance that it could be accomplished resonated with my need for haste.
Ensuring no detail was overlooked, I gathered the carefully selected gifts for Sasha, procured online and awaiting my attention in the confines of my apartment. Each item carried a silent promise of affection, anticipating the joy it would bring to her.
As I made my way to the tarmac, a palpable anticipation fueled by both urgency and eagerness guided my steps. The humming energy of the awaiting aircraft echoed the swiftness of my decisions. The journey to reunite with my woman had begun, fueled by the determination to bridge the distance and savor the moments ahead.
Sasha POV
Stepping out of the bathroom, a towel enveloping me, I made my way to the vanity, my heart pounding in anticipation. As I laid eyes on the pregnancy test, the shock and joy collided within me—indeed, I was pregnant. "Lord, I thank you," I uttered aloud, aware that only He knew the timing.
Entering the room, thoughts of Lionel and our conversations about parenthood filled my mind. Confident in his support, I embraced the happiness but couldn't shake the nagging question: "Would I be a good mother?" I voiced my uncertainty as I began to lotion my skin with cocoa butter, slipping into a black mesh lingerie and a yellow silk robe.
Descending to the kitchen, I decided to cook, setting the ambiance with Romain Virgo's "I Want to Go Home" through Alexa. The rhythm of the music guided me as I prepared shrimp pasta, swaying and dancing to its melody. The door opened, and there he was—the man of my dreams and soon-to-be baby daddy. Lustful eyes met mine as I approached, singing along. Our passionate hug and kiss sealed the moment, and in awe, I whispered, "How did I get so lucky?" His response echoed, "I am the lucky one to have you."
YOU ARE READING
Sugar Daddy
RomanceSashaWalker is a 23 year old black thick Jamaican girl who loves life she Is the life of the party as that's her escape from reality Nevertheless she wants to breakaway from the abusive mother who allows her boyfriend's to abuse her and the ghett...
