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Three months had passed, and Haven now found herself in the heart of her second trimester, 21 weeks pregnant. Her belly, which had once been a small, barely noticeable bump, had blossomed into a prominent, rounded curve.
Time seemed to be slipping away faster than she anticipated, and both she and Cairo were eager to find out their baby's gender. They wanted to start preparing, shopping, and creating a space filled with love for their little one.
Despite the weeks slipping by, it still didn't feel entirely real to Haven that she was carrying a child. Her baby's development had reached the stage where they had started to move, and the fluttery sensations she felt were a source of constant amazement. It was as if tiny butterflies were dancing inside her.
Walking through Target, Haven pushed her cart down the household aisle, determined to stock up on cleaning supplies while also tackling a small grocery list. Her eyes flickered toward the baby section as she passed, tempted to browse, but she resisted the urge. Without knowing the baby's gender, it felt pointless to shop, no matter how much she wanted to.
As she reached up for a case of paper towels, Haven sensed someone moving into her space. She dropped the case into her cart and turned instinctively, her eyes locking on a familiar face.
It was her biological father.
Haven's face instinctively scrunched up in confusion and unease.
"Hey," Michael said, taking a cautious step back, as though anticipating her reaction. "I thought that was you, but I wasn't sure. I just saw you and wanted to say hi. Long time, no see."
"Hi," Haven replied curtly, her tone laced with awkwardness. She didn't know what to say. It had been over three years since she'd last seen him, and the last time they spoke, she had walked out of the restaurant they were in and blocked all contact.
Congratulations on the engagement," Michael said, nodding toward the ring on her finger. "And... on the baby. I saw your grandmother post about it on Facebook." His eyes shifted to her belly, which was visible under her fitted shirt.
"Thank you," Haven replied simply. She could see the regret etched on his face, but she wasn't sure what to make of it.
An uncomfortable silence hung between them until Michael finally broke it. "Would it be too much to ask for us to have lunch? I'd like to apologize—to you and Nasir. I've been trying to reach out, but I'm guessing I'm blocked."
Apologize? Haven thought to herself. Now, after all this time?
"Nasir isn't going to be open to that," she spoke. "You know him. He's made his peace with not having you in his life, and honestly... I feel the same."
Michael nodded slowly, though disappointment flickered across his face. "I have no choice but to respect that," he said, his voice subdued. Turning slightly, he added, "I wish you both the best. And for what it's worth, I still love you."
