Page 27

River Ashland

" W hat do you think our kid will look like?" Staring at Sincere with a blank expression, I waited for him to laugh or at least say he was joking. "You don't wanna have my baby. Riv?"

Feeling my cheeks start to hike, I looked away.

"Nah, look at me, River." With his fingers on my chin, he guided my face back to his. "Do you wanna have my baby?" His voice was firmer when he asked this time.

"It never crossed my mind, if I'm being honest."

I thought that was a polite way of saying no, but it was clear from how close his brows bunched together that he didn't see it that way.

"Fuck you mean you never thought about it? Your ass been thinking about forever, tho'," he scoffed, sliding my legs from his lap.

"Oh, so I can't touch you now?" I smacked.

"Don't do that shit," he warned, glaring at me.

"Don't do what, Sincere?"

"Switch shit up like I did some shit to you."

"All I did was answer your question, and because you didn't like what I had to say, you pushed my legs off you."

"Fuck it." He shrugged and got up from the couch. "What you won't do, another bitch will."

"Nigga, what?" I barked, shooting up.

"You ain't the only bitch capable of having my baby."

"Say word, Sincere."

Waving me off, he slipped his sneakers on that were by the front door. I quickly moved in front of the door because this nigga wasn't leaving after saying some shit like that to me.

"River, move. I got money to make and ? —"

"And what bitches to see?"

"No one said all that. Go shit the fuck down and move."

"No!"

"River, I'm not gon' tell you again. Move your ass."

"Nigga, I said no!" I spat, jamming my finger into his forehead. His head reared back, but I wished it went further, snapping his neck.

"Aye, put your fucking hands on me again and watch what I do," he gritted lowly.

"Nigga, you not gon' do sh ? —"

Grabbing my arm before I could mush his ass again, Sincere twisted my arm, folding it behind my back.

"That hurts! Sincere! You're fucking hurting me!"

"You don't fucking listen! Always thinking someone's playing with your ass."

"Sincere!" I cried, but this nigga didn't give a fuck.

He led me toward the couch as I bounced from foot to foot.

"Sit the fuck down and don't get up." He shoved me onto the couch, and I popped back up, ready for whatever.

"River, stop playing with me and sit your ass down." He shoved me again, but this time, he allowed himself to fall on top of me as his lips kissed along my collarbone.

"Stop," I fussed, trying to push him off.

Sincere had never come at me like how he just did. Throwing other bitches in my face wasn't something I thought he was capable of, but I guess there was a first for everything.

"Sincere, stop, forreal!" When he tried to kiss me, I bit into his bottom lip, not stopping until I tasted blood.

"Ahh, fuck, Riv!"

"I told you to stop." I wiggled my way from underneath him and stood up. He grabbed my hand, pulling me between his legs. His arms wrapped around my waist as he laid his head against my stomach.

"Sincere," I mumbled.

"You really don't want to have my baby, Riv?" He sounded hurt, and in turn, I felt the same. Running my hands along his dark Caesar, I sighed.

"That's not what I said."

"Shit, it was close enough," he scoffed, and I sucked my teeth.

"And what you said is any better? What bitch you know that's going to have your baby?"

"Man, you know I ain't mean it. You hurt me, and I wanted to do the same."

"You're too grown for tit and tat, Sincere."

"I know but hear me out. I've been telling you since you got me to tell you I love you that I want it all with you. How can you think about forever and not picture a mini you or a smaller me in the frame? I want kids, River. I'm not saying we gotta have 'em now, but I want some."

"Maybe when I finish college."

"Yeah, ight," he huffed, gently moving me to make room for him to stand up. "I'ma be out late. Don't wait up."

Feeling tears fall onto my arms, I wiped my eyes, amazed that a memory from the past could bring me to tears as if it were happening now.

I guess, in a way, it was. Back then, I wasn't thinking about kids.

I was in school with a couple of years left before I graduated.

I had so much happening that I wanted to be selfish with my time.

A kid would only slow me down more than Sincere already was.

Back then, I didn't see his actions as insecurities.

I thought his wanting me around all the time was how a man was supposed to love his woman, especially when my momma didn't let me out to see him often while in high school.

Making up for lost time was what I chalked it up to, but hindsight was truly twenty-twenty.

Sincere had a need for me to bend at his will or be a part of his world while he ignored mine.

I've loved that man, paused my life for him, refused to fall in love again for him, and woke up every morning to cry for him.

A lot of what I did with my life was in honor of Sincere.

Drowning in sex, I used men for the little connection I was able to grasp before feelings destroyed my temporary fix. Fucking on men was the bandage covering the scar along my heart.

Endless orgasms.

Fleeting memories.

Talks of favorites that didn't matter to me but probably meant something to my companion.

I could go on and on, but what’s the point when, I ended up finding my heart in the form of a man who wasn't Sincere. I used to say, when Sincere died, he took my heart with him. But Crown came along and, unbeknownst to him, had me eating my words.

"Sweetheart, you have to come downstairs and eat something." Without knocking, my mom walked into my old room, giving demands.

"I'm not hungry."

"River, come down here and eat."

"Ma, forreal, I'm not hungry."

"It's been almost three weeks, River. You can't stay in this room forever."

"I go out for my walks around the block four times a day. What's the problem?"

"You're shutting yourself out from the world. You can't heal like this."

"I'm healing just fine, according to the doctor, so..."

Every appointment I've been to, the doctor said the same thing. My incision was healing nicely, and I was moving great for someone who had surgery close to three weeks ago. What more did my mother want from me?

"River, physically, you’re healing, but mentally you're still hurting."

"I've been hurting, Ma. I haven't stopped fucking hurting since Sincere died."

"Here we go," she smacked. I didn't even have to look at her to know a screwed-up expression was plastered on her face.

"No, here you go, and that's the problem. You never liked Sincere, and because of that, you let me mourn him alone. You didn't even try to help me through it."

"What did you want me to do, River? You were basically living off snot and fucking tears. That man you loved so much broke you. He made you believe you had no life without him."

"He didn't make me believe a damn thing. It's the fucking truth!" I spat, tossing the blanket off me and jumping up from the bed.

"River, be careful," my mom urged, eyeing my scar.

"See how you can't look at me without looking at this." I pointed toward my scar, careful not to jam my finger into it’s tenderness. "This shit is a reminder of what happens when I try to live without Sincere."

"River, you can't believe that."

"But I do, Ma. Look how long I've been racing, and not once have I crashed."

"I know, but?—"

"Do you know I argued with Sincere about kids? He asked me if I wanted to have his, and I said I hadn't thought about it. He was so fucking upset that he twisted my arm behind my back."

"He put his hands on you. Oh, that boy had better be lucky he's already dead."

"That's what you got from that?"

"What else was I supposed to take from it? River, you're grasping at straws, trying to make sense of this when there's nothing to piece together. What happened to you isn't because you're allowing your heart to be loved properly."

"I can't have kids, Ma. How don't you see that as my karma?" She wasn't listening. I laid it all out for her, and she still chose to ignore it. My crash was my fucking karma.

"That's not what the doctor said. She said?—"

"Just stop because you're not listening, and I don't wanna keep going in circles with you."

"River, you might be grown, but I'll still put belt to ass."

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Fine." She held her hands up in surrender. "Have you spoken to Crown?"

"Ma!"

"What? You wanted to switch the conversation, so I did."

"And you know I don't want to talk about him either."

"How long are you going to ignore him?"

I shrugged, not having an answer. Crown was innocent but seeing him was too much right now.

With Crown, it was never as easy as him just being here.

He’s a fixer. A problem solver who convinced himself I was his to fix.

Don't get me wrong, I love that about him.

This just wasn't something he could fix.

"Well, you might want to speak to him soon. I went by the hair salon the other day and heard Rook's wife talking about how Rook came home the afternoon after your crash, beat up. His nose was fractured, and his jaw needed realignment."

"What does that have to do with Crown?" Crown and Rook didn't know each other. "Fuck! Kysre," I groaned.

"I won't say much, but you might want to speak your man if you want the crime rate to stay low."

"What has he done?"

"I don't know if he's done anything yet, but he hasn't been sleeping."

"How do you know any of this? You've met him once."

"River, the minute you introduced me to that man, he's become a part of my life. We text every day, just checking in, and if I need anything done, he makes sure to stop by, or he has a young man named Rivian come."

"Rivian." I frowned. "You mean Rize?"

"Yes, but he insisted I call him the name his mother gave him," she laughed like it was their little inside joke.

"Why didn't you tell me y'all were friendly?"