Ayra wants to love Dwayne for who he is and not what he owns. But for some reason, Dwayne can't help but show off what he has or can give her monetarily.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ayra was now twenty-nine weeks pregnant, her belly round and heavy with the weight of three growing lives. As she moved through her days, she felt the constant eyes of concern upon her, friends and family watching her like a hawk.
Carrying triplets was no small feat, and with each passing week, the anxiety surrounding her pregnancy only intensified. Everyone was worried she might go into labor early, and she could sense their unease in every conversation, every glance thrown her way.
That Saturday afternoon, Ayra attended her nephew's middle school basketball game. The gym was buzzing with energy; parents cheered from the sidelines while kids darted up and down the court, their youthful exuberance palpable.
Ayra sat in the bleachers, feeling the familiar kicks and shifts of the babies inside her. She had wanted to be there for her nephew, to share in the excitement of his triumphs, but she also felt the strain of her pregnancy weighing heavily on her.
"Go, Javid!" she shouted, her voice mingling with the others.
He was a star player, and she felt a swell of pride as she watched him score a basket. The excitement was momentarily distracting, pulling her thoughts away from the worries that shadowed her pregnancy.
After the game, Ayra's mother, Ariel, insisted they go shopping for the babies. Ariel had always envisioned herself in a more traditional role during the pregnancy—attending doctor's appointments, planning the nursery, and, most importantly, being present in the delivery room. However, Ayra's decision to have Joe in the room instead created an undercurrent of tension between them.
"I just don't understand why Joe, of all people, will be in there with you," Ariel remarked as they walked through the brightly lit aisles of the baby store.
The shelves were lined with tiny clothes, soft blankets, and all the necessary gear for newborns. Each item brought a fresh wave of anticipation, but Ayra could feel her mother's disapproval radiating from her like heat.
Ayra rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "I made my decision, and that's it. I'm not changing my mind," she replied firmly.
Ariel's lips pressed into a thin line, a clear sign of her frustration. "But this is a huge moment in your life! Shouldn't your mother be there? I've dreamed of this day. I want to support you, but I just feel... pushed aside."
Ayra paused, glancing at a row of soft onesies in pastel colors. They were adorable, each one a tiny testament to the life she was nurturing inside her. "I appreciate that you want to be there, Mom. But I need to feel safe and supported in that moment. Joe knows me better than anyone else. He's my brother."
Ariel let out a sigh, the disappointment evident in her posture. "I just worry about you, Ayra. Triplets are a lot to handle. I don't want you to feel alone."
