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Spontaneous Soulmates Sample Sunday.

 

 

Gia

 

Patience.

It was the topic of the lesson I’d taught right before school was let out for Christmas break. I started the discussion the same way I began each new subject; by reading the formal definition to my students. Standing in front of a room of twenty eager four-year-olds, I recited the lazy explanation saying it was the skill of being patient. Needing more to lay a solid foundation for my lecture cued up my trip to a page ahead in search of the word patient.

pa•tient | adjective: bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint.

That explanation was cute but not strong enough to describe what I exemplified.

Sitting there watching my baby daddy smiling all in some Whitley Gilbert-looking ass bitch’s face without slapping fye out both their asses had to be the most valiant show of patience known to man.

Take a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I did exactly as my inner-self instructed.

I might’ve been paying Grant dust for months, but I had my reasons. None of which warranted me being subjected to watching him entertain some thirsty broad who was wearing braids that should’ve been taken out weeks ago.

So nah, Merriam-Webster’s soft description wouldn’t do the insurmountable restraint I exemplified its due justice.

Even if Grant had no knowledge of the fetus that was almost the reason for me sending a ‘hey boo’ text to my cousin. Round ligament pain had me close to leaving my dress hanging in my closet.   Thankfully, I was able to thug it out and be there for her.     

Camryn had been stressing about the New Year’s Eve party she and her man Sylvester were hosting. Knowing his parents would be there made planning it that much more stressful. It’d gotten to the point of her needing to throw back tequila shots to help calm her down. There was no way I could leave my best-cousin out here with the crowd mostly made up of Gen X-ers. She already had to face her ex-fiancés delusional mother about her man. I needed to be around just in case somebody tried her.

I mean… I couldn’t throw hands for at least another sixteen weeks, but I could make noise if I needed to. My idea got the two of them together, and I was more than willing to do what I needed to protect their bond.

I’d caught on to Camryn using work as a reason to avoid moving on after ending her engagement and suggested that we go on a singles’ cruise to ease her back into dating. Suggesting was a mild way of putting harassing my cousin until she caved, but hey, it got the job done. I was sure she wasn’t complaining because she bumped into the former professor of her fantasies on that cruise aboard The Freedom Bliss .

Bumping into him turned into bumping and grinding with him on the cruise, and voila! They fell in love, and I didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Something else I didn’t see was hooking up with Sylvester’s best friend and conceiving a child.

I guess ghetto is as ghetto does.

That news was a major key that came from the craziest circumstance. Out of all the dick available to me, I got pregnant by a sneaky vacay hookup.

The cruise wasn’t about me. Operation Help Cammy Cakes Get Her Groove Back was about her reemerging as a woman ready to reignite her dating life once we returned home to Ft. Meyers. I was the perfect wing-woman getting my cousin out there and encouraging her to explore romance with Sylvester.

Sex was never on my mind—well sex was always on mind, but it wasn’t my priority.  Some things couldn’t be avoided, especially with an established man dripping in big dick energy and who could handle me. Avoiding Grant had been good for my resolve but seeing him had the power to undo the resistance I’d built.

Like… did he have to look so good? 

All distinguished looking in a charcoal grey turtleneck, giving very much secure in his manhood—as he should be because fuck, that man knew he was on God’s Favorites list. Grant had been blessed with what I called the triple score whammy—length, girth, and stroke. I’d experienced a plentiful share of lovers, most were able to accomplish two out of the three, but all of the above was a rare find like a nigga who didn’t slut shame and supported Me Too.

But Grant, though?

My God, that Grant.

He ruined me. Contrary to the saying, it was better not to have experienced a dick of that magnificence because I would forever be plagued with the sense of underwhelm when another man couldn’t measure up. I didn’t think there was a mountain high or valley low where I would encounter dick of that superiority.

I felt my hold on the flute in my hand tighten as I watched Whitley laugh at something Grant said too close to her ear. She tossed her head back and leaned into him with her hand that just happened to land on his chest. The sound of my teeth grinding in my ears was so torturous that it pleased me because it soothed the aggravation boiling over my body at the thought of him taking her home and doing her the way he’d done me. 

“You good? For the past ten minutes, I’ve watched you shoot Dora Milaje spears from your eyes.”

I blinked, then looked at Camryn, who’d just approached my right. “Chile, I’m not studyin’ that.”   Lifting my glass, I gave it a gentle shake. “But I’d be better if the contents of this glass were derived from the Impérial Brut of Moët.”

“Awww,” Camryn cooed with an exaggerated pout. “My god-baby would like to differ.”

My eyes stretched with horror as I watched her hands inching closer to my midsection. My hands reached out, slapping hers away out of a reflex that hadn’t considered the glass of mocktail comprised of one hundred percent Welch’s Concord and zero percent alcohol in my hand. “What are you doing?”

Camryn grabbed the stack of square, black, and gold beverage napkins from the table and patted her arms dry before squatting to wipe the drops that spilled on the floor. “What are you doing?”

Caught off by her tight glare and clenched teeth, I felt the need to clarify my question. Using my hand to shield my mouth, I hissed, “I’m talking about the baby.”

“I am too.” She stood and smoothed her black sequined midi dress, pinning her pointed stare at me. “This is ridiculous, don’t you think?”

 My lids drew closer together as my eyes tightened at her remark. It was no secret she disagreed with me keeping my pregnancy from Grant. “Keeping news to myself until I feel like I’m in a safe place to announce it isn’t ridiculous.”

Her head dropped to the left, “Keeping vital information from someone with just as many rights to it as you is unfair.”

“I’m not going to keep the baby from him, Cam. I’m just taking my time while I’m still processing everything.”

Camryn shot me a blank stare. “You’re almost six months pregnant.”

“It’s a long process.”

“Whatever, Gia. You’re lucky to be carrying small, otherwise that belly would’ve told Grant for you because he’s been watching you too.”

For the thousandth time, I looked at the area Grant and Whitley was. I could feel my heart switch gears, accelerating the pace of beats, when I noticed they weren’t there. I looked all over, trying not to let my panic show. My attention followed a movement that caught it in the corner, sending my gaze crashing into the dark, mysterious stare that penetrated beyond my physical as he penetrated my body.

The intensity of his peer held me captive.  I stood there stuck, unable to do anything but return his gaze until Camryn’s obnoxious snort broke the trance. I glanced her way, prepared for her condemnation.

“Like I said. Ridiculous.” Her eyes cast down to my midsection as if they could see through the loose material of the sweater dress I carefully picked to hide my rounding belly. “You should put some cold water on that before it stains.”

Looking down, I found a spot of juice that would no doubt bring unwanted attention to my stomach. I walked past Camryn, then sidestepped and shuffled in the opposite direction of others entering the great room to prepare for the main event. The person occupying the guest bathroom alerted me that they would be a few minutes in response to my knock on the door. Checking my watch, I estimated there were about fifteen minutes left before the countdown. I walked down the hall searching for another bathroom, lucking up three doors later and finding a guest room with one included.

Soon as I stepped inside, my dramatic-ass bladder gave a tug as if it could sense that I was near a toilet. It left me no choice but to fight my waddle as I strutted to the porcelain bowl. After relieving myself, I finally got to the original task at hand. Leaving my controlled top pulled up above my stomach gave me a few more minutes of relief from the restriction.

I rolled up a few Bounty paper towels and quickly passed them below the stream of water so the material didn’t over-saturate. Seeing some of the grape juice transfer to the napkins when I blotted the spill was a relief, giving me hope that my dress wouldn’t stain.

“This will have to do,” I uttered to my reflection while looking at the spot that was about seventy-five percent removed. Checking my watch, I saw that I had about five minutes left to get back to the front with a mocktail in hand to count in the new year. 

A pang hit me in my chest at the thought of bringing in the year alone. I was happy to be out and not at home by myself, but I was still alone. Then to share space with my child’s father who would most likely give a kiss to another woman when the clock struck twelve would be my greatest test of patience thus far.

“At least I have you,” I whispered with my hand on my stomach. Going into the new year with my fetus felt like an accurate fortune of my future. They say how you go into the new year determined the way you would spend it. I guess it’s time I faced the fact that it’s just me and my baby. 

I inwardly cursed Grant for being at the party because I would’ve tossed my spanks right in the trash can in the corner if he wasn’t. Being alone was enough misfortune, I could at least be comfortable in my lonesomeness. “Sorry, baby. I have to tuck you in for a little bit. But I’m about to be out this bitch soon as the ball drops. I love you.”

With everything put back into place, I tweaked my hair, using my nails to tease some of my curls as I gave myself a parting once over in the mirror. Two soft knocks sounded on the door just as I turned to leave the bathroom, putting a little more speed to my steps. “One second.”

I stopped my advancement when the door opened, displaying the man I’d been dreaming about since the day I met him. Standing there looking like a chef’s selection in his grey turtleneck, he effectively dismantled my safeguard I built over the past months with just two words.

“Hello, Georgia.”