This chapter is sort of a filler so I'm not jumping all into the drama just yet. But trust me it'll start soon 👀😎.
I was gonna split the chapter into two parts but I left you guys hanging for to long to give you some little ol chapter, so this one may be a bit long.
Sorry for any mistakes...
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Third person
(Same day) One day till the wedding....
"Where the fuck are you at nigga?!"
"You need to-"
"Shut the fuck up and let me talk! I been past your place two days in a row and you haven't been there! The neighbors said they haven't seen you and the daycare said Jasmine went on "vacation" with you. Where the fuck is my daughter at Michael?"
"Hold up..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "How did you find out where I live?"
"Just how I found you the first time: voter registration information is open to the public- where is Jas at? Don't try to deflect from the bullshit, okay? I'm not in the mood."
"She's fine. I would never put my daughter in harm's way, but it's not like you actually give a fuck if she saw." He sat on the couch folding his clothes before he put them in his suitcase.
"What are you talking about? Of course I care."
"Bullshit. You don't care, cause if you did you wouldn't be popping up every two months dropping off sorry your sorry ass $200. You don't pop up and see if she's okay you just hand me money, maybe hold Jas for ten minutes, and then leave. That's not showing you care Malaysia!" He threw the shirt he had in hand wishing he could reach through the phone and snatch her bald.
"That $200 Is hard earned don't try to flex like you don't need my help."
He hopped up from the couch in disbelief. "Ha! Hard earned?!Malaysia, I work almost fifty hours a week and take care of our- no, my daughter full time. My money is "hard earned!" You don't do shit but run away from your responsibilities."
"Run away? I don't run away from shit baby."
He wiped his free hand down his face and swung at the air. "YES! Yes you run away! You dropped my daughter off and dipped! That's a perfect example of running away from the shit you're supposed to take care of!"
"Nigga I'm giving you money to take care of my daughter! You better stop talking crazy before I give you nothing at all."
"Bro what? I guess I'll keep on talking crazy cause you can keep the chump change. You trynna have me spread nickles and dimes over two months for my baby? I spend way over $200 a week on daycare payments, diapers, all that organic shit I feed her, and you trynna make it seem like you drop racks on me every time you pop your weasel head ass up. Taking care of your shit means you spend time with your daughter, actually building a relationship with her, come with me to doctors appointments to see how she's doing health wise- You don't do none of that shit! You don't even know what size pull-ups baby girl wears and all of a sudden "you care." Get aaallll the way the fuck outta here! Throwing money at me is some bitchass way out if you ask me." Michael took a deep breath trying not to start throwing shit.
"Are you done yet? Cause I'm trynna figure out when we started name calling?"
"Maannn... Malaysia get off my phone with that victim shit.
You're hearing what you wanna hear and that really kills me. Like seriously talking to you and listening to your delusional bullshit shaves another year off my life, I promise. Jasmine is fine and she always will be she don't need you. She's good where she is. You need to take that money you work so hard for and go get some professional help." Michael hung up and threw his phone on the floor.
