Page 18 of On Everything 2

Hov

When I pulled up to the curve of the condo to get Cashmier, I knew she would come downstairs with her arms folded and her nose turnt up in the air because I didn't come home last night.

I didn't leave her wondering if I was okay; I told her I wouldn't be coming home by text.

I'm sure she was about to get in this car, having so much shit to say, but I don't want to hear any of it.

Cashmier pulled on the door handle so hard that her hand slipped from the force, but the door didn't budge one bit. She stomped her feet and then did the same thing again, and again until I reached across the center console to let her in.

"You alright?"

"What the fuck is it to you?"

She slammed the car door and sat one of the very many Chanel purses I bought in her lap.

If her punk ass daddy wanted money for his campaign trail, he could've just broken into our house and stolen all her purses.

That probably would've given him at least three hundred thousand alone.

Shid, with that thought running across my mind, I couldn't help but think maybe he was the person actually behind the kidnapping that cost me half a million.

That would make a lot of sense and is something for me to think about as well.

When I pulled off from the parking spot, Cashmier was only quiet for a couple of blocks.

"Where are we going, Hov?"

"To the doctor."

"Uh, excuse me?"

She jerked her head and looked at me sideways.

"To the doctor for what?"

"Did you really just ask me that?"

"Yes, I did. Hov, I know you didn't make me a doctor's appointment without my knowledge."

"I did, and you welcome."

"Why did you do that? You can't make decisions for my body."

"I can when my child is inside of it. I don't know what the fuck you were waiting on."

"I told you my concerns on finding a good doctor, but I am confused about yours."

"Confused?"

"You claim to care so much about this kid, but you stayed out with God knows who last night. What are you going to bring me home, a disease that you get from one of these Brooklyn or Harlem chicken heads you fucking with? Is that your plan?"

I laughed on the inside because my lil chicken head was actually from the Bronx.

"Cash, you don't have to worry about any of that happening. I'm not going to bring any disease back to you. Never have and I never will."

"That's good. As long as you keep using condoms, then I don't care?"

"Nah, I'm just not going to fuck you anymore. That part of our relationship is over. We have to dead that shit."

"Wow, so that's what you do, Hov. You put a fuckin baby inside of me and now I'm trash to you! That's so fucked up! I fucking hate you fucking dog!"

"I did not say that you were trash. I don't want to string a relationship on between us when all we have to do is coparent correctly.

I'll be there for you and my child, but I'm not going to bring him or her into a home we built on a lie!

I can't do it anymore, and I won't be doing it.

You know I will never do no shit I don't want to do so except it and let's move fuckin forward, alright?”

My honesty was coming from a point of respect for Ciara.

I can't claim her as mine when I knew I wasn't all hers.

Life is too short for me to sit around pretending to want to be with someone when the connection is gone.

I'm just going to pray for their health and live my best life with the person I think is best for me.

The person whose face I can't get out of my mind, and whose voice I can't get out of my head.

"So, what is the bitch's name? Huh! If you are going to leave me to be with someone else and expect my child to ever be around you, I have to know the bitch's name!"

"Cash, you not trying to hear that shit. Just let it go."

"No, I'm dead ass. What's her name? I fucking deserve to know!"

I exhaled for the moment and then figured, why not be completely honest with her?

"Alright, her fucking name is Ciara, and she isn't the only reason we grew apart. She's just the reason I want to finally draw a line with you. The reason I'm done with this faking and shaking shit! Alright? You happy?"

"Wow."

Her head leaned back against the headrest, and she took her fingers up to her eyes to keep tears from falling. I tried to reach out for her hand because seeing her cry did make me feel bad.

"Cash, we were growing apart, but I will still be there for you and my kid. I promise."

"Just shut the fuck up talking to me Hov!"

She leaned forward and turned the dial on the radio blasting the music in my ears. The song Burning Blue drowned out all opportunity for her to fuss anymore, but I'm glad. I'm sick of this back-and-forth shit with her ass.

The doctor we are on our way to, Dr. Price, was located in upper Manhattan and just happened to be available for one more patient after someone else sadly had a miscarriage.

Dr. Price has perfect reviews and was rated five stars everywhere I looked.

If we get here and we don't like how he handles shit, then oh fuckin well, we find someone new.

But we can't keep ignoring the fact that she needs to be seen and checked up on.

Putting that shit off any longer was just not an option for me. She mad now, but she will get over it.

We pulled into a parking spot between the doctor's office and a nearby Marriott hotel. I got out of the car and walked around to let Cashmier out, but she was in no rush to come inside.

"Cash, come on. We have ten minutes to get up there."

"I am moving at the speed that I want to. I probably could've checked in online with this office had I really known about any of this. I hope your new lady loves to be told what to do, with your controlling ass."

She walked in front of me, leaving that bull shit simmering in my mind.

I admit, I can be controlling at times, but it's because to me, I do know best about a lot of shit.

Shit, Ican'thelp it, I'm confident in myself and my decisions.

I don't want to appear that way to Ciara with what I did earlier with her job.

I needed to donate to charity for tax purposes, and she wanted to move up in her career, so I killed two birds with one stone.

Cashmier and I walked into the waiting room, and to me it looked more like a lounge than a clinic.

The walls were painted a soft gray, with crown molding along the edges, and the decorations consisted of large paintings of the New York City skyline in various colors.

The chairs weren't the usual cheap ones, either, that you see at other Doctors' offices.

They instead had dark wood frames with thick, cream-colored cushions that looked brand new.

So far, it looked like I had found somewhere nice, and if Cashmier complains about the atmosphere, then it's just because she wants to.

I walked up to the front desk, and behind the wide glass window, the receptionist sat in burgundy scrubs typing on the computer. I looked over my shoulder to see where Cashmier was, and she had sat down in one of the chairs behind me. As long as she stays in here, I'm okay with her attitude.

"Hi, sir. How can I help you?"

"I'm here for a 2:3o appointment with Dr. Price for Cashmier Davis."

"Okay, one second."

She typed on her computer with one hand before answering the phone with the other.

"Thank you for calling Pure Body Clinic. We will be with you shortly."

She put the phone on hold and then handed me one of the clipboards from the counter.

"We will be with you shortly, but in the meantime, have Mama fill out these forms for us."

"Alright, thanks."

I went to join Cashmier in the lobby area and handed her the clipboard, which she snatched from my hand. She began writing on the paperwork so hard that I felt like she might rip the shit.

"Ugh, see this is already not a good idea. I wanted to find a doctor's office that was more tech-friendly. This shit is annoying. Where are the iPads in here? Is this fucking 1952?"

She complained, but I ignored her, sitting back in my seat as I watched the news on the television in the lobby as Cashmier filled out the papers. When she was done, she handed the board back to me, and I stood up to return it to the front desk.

"Thank you. We will call you two back shortly."

I went to sit back in my seat and hadn't been sitting for a good thirty seconds before the door in the corner opened.

"Davis, Cashmier."

I stood up before Cashmier and put my hand out to help her up.

She rolled her eyes at me, then slapped my hand out of her face.

Shaking my head, I walked back towards the corner where the nurse was standing, but Cashmier's feet didn't move.

I closed my eyes, trying to channel a little fuckin patience somewhere deep inside of me so I wouldn't go off in front of these people.

"Cashmier, come on. We can't have them waiting too long."

I turned over my shoulder, but it was when I saw her face I instantly knew something was wrong.

Cashmier'sjaw slowly dropped, and her chest was caving up and down like she was trying to catch her breath. Still, her eyes were so glued to the television that I walked over to her and then looked up myself to see what had her attention.

Councilman Davis found murdered at the age of 58.

"Hov! No, no, no, no, no, this can't be true, Hov. This can't be true! This can't be true! Call my mom! Call my mama please!"

She fell to her knees on the floor, and one of the nurses ran over.

"Is she okay? Do we need a doctor?"

"No, I got her. She's alright."

The nurses backed away with concerned expressions on their face as I helped Cashmier out of the doctor's office. How the fuck is this shit confirmed on the news already and where the fuck is Crew.

This shit was never supposed to get out and now I'm on his ass as soon as I see him.