Just Let Go

Chapter eight

I was now four months pregnant. After I sat down with Ethan to have an enlightening talk, I decided that my baby should have the life it's entitled to. I had told my father and as expected he was furious but as time progressed and I remained adamant about my decision, he came to accept his unborn grandchild.

The only thing weighing in on my thoughts was that Tyrone was unaware of the pregnancy. A part of me really wanted him to know that he was going to become a dad in a few months. However, I managed to keep the news to myself because I was not prepared to have him back in my life and having a say in the upbringing of my baby.

After another prenatal check up with Dr. George a perinatologist, I discovered that I was having a girl and Beverly, a boy. Elated with the news we went to a restaurant to celebrate.

"So what do you plan to name your baby?" Beverly asked curious.

"I was thinking Xiomarah (Zee-o-mara) or Genevieve."

"You're weird," Beverly laughed, "I've never heard those names anywhere!"

"Of course you wouldn't. Xiomarah is Spanish and Genevieve is African."

"African and Spanish names, wow," she said in a sardonic tone.

"Yep," I laughed, "what's the name of your prince charming?"

"I'm naming his after his dad. Nothing wrong in having a Jr. in the family." Beverly laughed, mostly likely because we both knew she was too lazy to think of a decent name for the baby.

A flicker of dismay shot through me.

"Are you going to tell Tyrone?" she asked concerned.

I shrugged.

"You know he is the baby's father and has a right to know that he's going to be a dad."

"I know, but that would mean he will have to come back into my life and, truth is, I'm not ready for that," I replied meekly.

Beverly sighed.

After a few moments of silence I decided to change the subject. "So you're going to deliver in three and a half months!"

"Yes. I'm excited to get him out of me but I'm afraid it's going to hurt like hell."

We both laughed.

"Oh well you can always have an epidural."

"Yeah," she agreed," but my mother in law is being a bitch about having a natural birth at home. I want to tell her to shut the hell up and that it's not her place to make the decisions regarding my son's birth."

"Sounds like drama."

"It is."

"But you know what going to be worse?"

"What?' she asked perplexed.

"Shopping, to see who can find the cutest baby outfit." I watched a sly grin creep cross her face before we both left to go shopping.

As time progressed, I wanted to get my own place. I know that my father's mansion had more than enough space to house an entire football team but I began to feel more and more stifled by it all. With Ethan's help I found a house not too far away from home. My dad rebuked it at first but then gave in when I told him it was only until the baby was born.

Saturday morning as I sat on the edge of my queen sized bed I heard the front door open and close. I thought nothing of it as the footsteps began approaching the room. I figured Ethan would be stopping by today.

As my eyes landed on the figure before me, I dropped the piece of clothing that I was folding. My eyes fell to the floor. A pair of brown Clarks stood planted on the shiny mahogany floor. Plunging into them was a pair of grey jeans covering a pair of long legs. My intruder wore a white shirt decorated with gray and brown stripes. The broad chest, well-toned muscles, flat stomach and chocolate coloured skin could only belong to one person.