Page 29 of Only Fans

@ B randi

“It’s a little too soon for you to be in labor, right?” Deja asked, as she watched the nurse hook me up to a fetal monitor.

“I’m a week away from being eight months. I don’t want to deliver until I’m at least eight and a half months along, so I’m not claiming this is labor,” I professed, trying to keep my emotions in check. “I Googled my symptoms, and I could be experiencing Braxton Hick’s.”

Truth of the matter was, I was an emotional disaster, yet I was numb. I wanted to cry out in frustration, yet I didn’t want to have to explain my actions, so I held it in.

“What in the world is that?”

“It’s basically false labor pains you feel toward the end of your pregnancy,” I responded.

“Try to lay back and relax as much as you can, sweetie. I’ll be right back,” Jesse, my nurse said.

The doctor had just left from giving me a physical exam to check to see if I had dilated.

Before she left out of the room, she had to rewrap the fetal monitor around my belly.

The monitor was tracking if I was having contractions or not.

After lying back onto the hospital bed, I closed my eyes and exhaled a long breath.

It would suck something serious if I were to have my baby prematurely.

It’s crazy that I had been on bedrest to keep from going into labor early only to stress myself into going into labor.

This pregnancy was taking a lot out of me and I honestly couldn’t wait until it was over.

I just didn’t want it to be over prematurely, especially not after all I had gone through to get to this point.

During the middle of the night, I started feeling weird.

It was a feeling that washed over me that had me nauseated and anxious.

Then I started having some very sharp pains that shot across my chest and wrapped around my stomach.

It freaked me out, so I tried calling Reggie, but he didn’t answer.

I even texted him a few times, but he never responded to those either.

He always kept his cell phone on his body unless he was sleep, showering, or fucking, so I knew he had to see my missed calls and texts.

I was one hundred percent sure he didn’t fall asleep without coming to see me first for some sex, so he had to be either fucking or showering to have not responded back to me.

Then the pains started to hurt my chest from how intense they were, so I tried calling him again thinking if he was showering, he should have been done, but of course, he didn’t answer, so I ended up having to call Deja to come pick me up to take me to the emergency room.

I could barely move and was too freaked out to call 9-1-1.

I didn’t want to be alone because I feared that I was in labor and it was too early for me to deliver.

If that were to be the case, I damn sure didn’t want to go through that alone.

I wasn’t surprised when I started having pains because emotionally, I was a hot mess and it was causing me to feel physically sick, so I knew it was affecting the baby.

Anytime my mental was off it always affected me physically and emotionally.

I was off because my intuition was telling me that Reggie was up to no good which was why I couldn’t get ahold of him.

I couldn’t shake it. All I kept thinking about was him being laid up with that chick that confronted us that day.

The fact that I hadn’t heard from him since he left my house made it worse.

At my last doctor’s appointment, I was diagnosed with prenatal depression.

Having to be on bedrest, dealing with all of Reggie’s indiscretions, as well as worrying about the outcome of my own indiscretions was clearly taking a toll on me.

Then when things started to take a turn for the better between me and Reggie, I began to have hope for our relationship.

But last night, all that hope was stripped from me yet again leaving me feeling foolish.

As usual, the good never out weighted the bad and just as I feared, I was right.

Reggie was only on his best behavior because I was giving him an unlimited supply of juicy coochie not because he was finally ready to be a family man.

One minute, things were perfect, then the next minute here he was back to playing with my feelings again, and I couldn’t blame anyone but myself.

I had a gut feeling he was with another woman, and usually whenever I felt it in my bones like that, I was right.

I should have known it was too good to be true for him and I.

Last night we had some off the chain sex then he rushed off with promises of coming back for a night cap and to spoon me to sleep but completely dissed me instead.

The only time he dissed me like that was when he was messing around with some random.

As a result, I stress ate throughout the night while I worried myself thinking about what he was up to and who he could have been with.

The event that his hotel hosted on the rooftop must have been super lit for him to pull an all-nighter.

All I kept thinking was that he more than likely hooked up with some random chick from the party, and while I was feeling sorry for myself waiting on him to come back to my place to spoon me through the night, he was probably pounding her out blessing her with some A-one dick.

Just the thought of Reggie dicking down some other woman disturbed my spirit.

What hurt the most was the fact that he didn’t even bother to respond or acknowledge me even after he was done tricking off.

He didn’t even check in on me and the baby, and I thought we were better than that.

I had to call my sister and get her involved when I should have been able to depend on him.

As a matter of fact, he and I had a long talk about his lack of effort and concern when it came to me and the baby.

He hadn’t gotten to the point where he made us a priority, and it was driving me insane.

It made me feel like he could care less about the lively hood of me and the baby.

I wanted him to put us first for once. One simple phone call or text would’ve sufficed, but to leave and I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day was just not cool. It felt worse than a slap in the face.

Deja fussed at me all the way to the hospital saying it wasn’t cool that Reggie wasn’t accessible to me this late into my pregnancy as if I didn’t know that already.

It annoyed me to no end and made my pain all the worse because it was embarrassing as hell.

I didn’t need her to point out to me that my baby daddy wasn’t shit.

It had been a few hours since I last texted Reggie to tell him that I was in the emergency room because I thought I was in labor and he still hadn’t replied.

Since I was so far into my pregnancy, I was immediately taken to the labor and delivery section of the hospital.

That alone was nerve wrecking and stressful.

I texted Reggie again letting him know so that he would know what part of the hospital to come to once he saw my messages.

The fact that I felt like I was sweating him didn’t sit well with me at all.

“Hello Ms. Scott, feeling any better?” Dr. Lin asked, stepping into my room. “The sharp pains you were feeling should have subsided by now,” she said very matter of fact.

Picking up the long strip of paper that had fallen from the fetal monitor, then checking my vitals, she waited for my response.

“I actually feel so much better. I haven’t felt that pain but maybe once since the nurse left. I’m praying I’m not in labor ‘cause I need for my lil’ muffin’ to cook just a wee bit longer.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

“I can assure you that the pain you were feeling wasn’t labor pains. In fact, you were having gas pains.”

“Gas pains!” Deja gasped. “Girl, bye! You had me rushing to get you to the hospital thinking my niece was coming, and you havin’ some damn gas pains! Shittin’ me!” Deja fussed, causing me and the doctor to bust out in a fit of laughter.

Dr. Lin explained the importance of watching my food intake late at night and stressed the importance of not laying down immediately after eating.

Being eight months pregnant, gas felt a million times more intense than it normally would.

Once Dr. Lin was done schooling me on avoiding gas related situations while pregnant, she signed my discharge orders.

Checking the time, I had been to the hospital a total of five hours, and I still hadn’t heard from Reggie’s ole sorry ass. Just as we were leaving and approaching the front entrance, here came Reggie barreling through the front door huffing and puffing.

“Brandi, what’s up, bae? They discharged you already? You good?” Reggie huffed in one breath while trying to catch his breath.

It was clear he was rushing, but he was a whole day late and a dollar short.

Then as soon as I glanced at him my suspicions were confirmed turning me completely off.

Reggie was dressed in an Armani suit, that looked like he threw it on, not to mention it was totally different then what he left in.

Even though he said he was overseeing an event, he usually didn’t dress up in Armani suits unless the guest was a celebrity.

When Reggie left for work, he had on a pair of Fashion Nova dark denim jeans with an all-black t-shirt with his hotel logo and a pair of multi-color Yeezy’s.

It was very rare for him to be dressed to the nines like that unless he was trying to impress some chick.

Giving him a nasty glare then looking him up and down, I made it obvious that I had peeped his outfit and the sleazy cheap perfume that was mixed with his One Million cologne.

“It was damn gas. She and the baby fine!” Deja spat as I rolled my eyes at her.