𝑪𝑰𝑻𝑴 . ᴛᴜᴘᴀᴄ ꜱʜᴀᴋᴜʀ

⋆┊❛𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔𝙈𝙊𝙈𝙈𝘼 𝘿𝙍𝘼𝙈𝘼 ❜┊⋆

Me and pac's relationship was copeing, there was less romance and more reality, he didn't feel like a husband, he felt like a person that was just there.

We wouldn't even touch each other anymore. I couldn't answer why but I felt distanced, he and I both could feel it. It made me depressed most days but I stick to my gut and stayed be his side when he needed me and only had him do his duties as a father, the wife switch was turnt off until he learned to respect me. Nothing else.

6 months in my pregnancy and I was the humble woman on the planet, my baby was due anytime and I was the happiest woman in the world, Pac was doing fine even when our relationship was rocky. he worked his ass off and off, His albums did numbers and his movie gang related was still in the works. He was busy while I was home, just how it was always was.

Chris was a little settle, I'd speak to him sometimes but he rarely visted, even when he wanted to, he respected my peace but couldn't tolerate pac and his antics. There was no peace between them and I refused to let it bother me, I was too busy trying to prepare for my baby.

On one of pac's weeks off he decided to spend a little remaining time with me before he went back to work, but that time wasn't romantic or anything, it was simply him helping with the nursery. Since we were still going back in forth from Los Angeles and New York we decided to just stay in Los Angeles, New York was not meant for a woman like me.

Painting on the wall I saw that pac was carrying another box into the room, my plan was to paint a portrait of the baby on the wall and be creative as I could be either way I was doing what I loved about the baby I loved the most in the world.

Pac quietly laid the box down taking a step back, not saying a word to me as I was doing my outlines, he turned around exited the room quietly. I stopped and looked, my foot swelling more against the plastic that was covering the carpet. A frown was on my face as I watched him go down the stairs, deep down, I wished he would say something other than do you need help or what do you need, I wished he would acknowledge me, but I couldn't understand because I never acknowledge him.

I held the pallet closer to me as I noticed one of my mixed colors were wrong, I was on the part of outlining, I turned to my mixing tray as I was wanted the formed clouds to be brighter. My plan was to paint me, pac, and the baby all on the wall, it was drawn of us holding him with clouds and stars around. As cliche as it sounded it was my vision, my son was my blessing that came from god so the cloud and the atmosphere was heavily influenced with a heaven I created.

It was going to take weeks, maybe even months to perfect this, but it was going to be my best work, and I was going to make every minute count.

I heard footsteps coming back upstairs, I turnt once more to see pac carrying another box inside the room, without thinking I became curious. "Is that another set for his crib or is it the shelves that I ordered?" I asked him. Pac put the big box down his muscles expanding. My man was strong.

My eyes stared up and down all around, I blinked my eyes twice as I realized he said something to me. "I don't know but it's other stuff in the living room that's not opened." He told me making me whisper a tired okay.

I looked back down mixing true trying to figure out how I could make my color lighter.

"It's hot." Pac complained, he began to take off his white tank top. When I saw him, his back was faced to me, the tattoo he got of me was there, my name in italic still coated in black in the gates of the cross tattoo. Staring at it, I remember the meaning of when he got it. Feeling hypnotized by it I sat my object back down and trailed over to my husband, as he stood there toggling the radio.