Page 28

SERENITY

T he Arizona sun filtered through the massive glass walls of our home, casting long golden streaks across the sleek wood flooring. Even after two years, waking up in this house still felt like stepping into a dream.

Everything inside screamed modern luxury—from the custom cabinetry and sleek quartz countertops to the wine room tucked off the main living space. The chef’s kitchen, fitted with Sub-Zero appliances, was a dream, even if I barely cooked anything beyond breakfast.

The primary suite, where Creed and I spent most of our time, was a sanctuary in itself—floor-to-ceiling windows that offered the most breathtaking views of Camelback Mountain, a spacious sitting area, and a walk-out patio that led to our private pool.

But it was the backyard that truly set this place apart. A remodeled infinity pool, a sports court, and even a putting green that Creed swore he’d master someday but mostly used to teach Gio how to play.

It wasn’t just a house. It was our home. A place we built together. One we both owned. I remember the day we signed the papers. I had taken a pretty penny from my trust fund to pay my half of the expenses. My daddy wasn’t happy, but it was what I wanted.

And today? It was filled with the sound of laughter.

"‘Mama Renity! Wook!"

I turned from where I was sitting on the plush sectional in the living room, my eyes locking on Giovanni as he came running inside from the backyard—his curls bouncing, his small face lit up with excitement. He looked so much like his daddy it was crazy.

In his tiny hands, he clutched a bright blue golf ball, gripping it with so much pride, you would’ve thought it was a rare diamond.

"Ball in!" he announced, grinning ear to ear.

I gasped, setting my iced coffee down on the glass table. "You got the ball in the hole?!"

He nodded fast, his curls bouncing, proud of himself in the way only toddlers could be. Creed came strolling in behind him, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel, grinning.

"He cheated," Creed smirked.

"Uh-uh!" Gio shook his head, stomping his little foot. "No cheat! I do!"

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing.

"You did it all by yourself?" I asked, scooping him up into my arms as he giggled, his tiny hands clutching my dress.

"Mhm! ‘Mama Renity, see?"

"I didn’t see, baby, but I believe you," I said, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

"Me p’ayer wike Daddy," he mumbled against my shoulder.

"You’re gonna be a basketball player like Daddy?" I gasped.

Creed laughed, sitting beside me. "Nah, he lyin’. He told me five minutes ago he wanna be ‘Bwack Panther.’"

I looked down at Gio. "You wanna be Black Panther, baby?"

He grinned, big and bright. "Yup. Fwy! P’ow! Beat bad guys!"

"Ohhh, okay. So you wanna save the world?"

Gio clapped his hands, bouncing in my lap. "Me big! Stwong! Wike Daddy!"

Creed reached over, ruffling his curls. "That’s right, little man."

I smiled, hugging Gio tighter, feeling my heart swell.

It took some time for me to come to terms that my boyfriend was having a baby with his ex-girlfriend, took time for me to accept Gio in my life.

Not because I resented him, but because his mother was difficult every step of the way.

I didn’t even get to meet him until he was nearly eight months and when I laid eyes on him, looking so much like his father, I fell in love with him too.

Early on it was clear that I loved this kid. And he loved me too.

The bond Gio and I had wasn’t forced. It wasn’t something I tried to create. It was organic, something that just happened.

From the moment I came into his life, he just..

. gravitated toward me. At first, I was careful.

I never wanted to step on Gianna’s toes as his mother.

But it didn’t take long for Gio to attach himself to me—wanting me to tuck him in at night, wanting me to make his pancakes in the morning, wanting to sit in my lap when we watched movies.

And Gianna?

She hated it.

I found that out firsthand later that evening.

I had just walked into our bedroom, grabbing my silk bonnet off the nightstand, when I heard it. A low voice. Muffled. But clear enough. Gianna who was on the phone with Creed. Creed was in the bathroom with the door open.

I shouldn’t have listened. But I did.

"She’s trying to replace me, Creed!"

I froze.

"You’re being dramatic," Creed sighed, his tone already exasperated. "She’s not trying to replace you."

"Then why does Gio love her so much? Why is he calling her Mama Serenity?" Gianna snapped.

My heart clenched.

"Because she’s good to him," Creed said, his voice calm but firm. "Because she treats him like he matters. What do you want me to do? Tell him he can’t love her?"

"I just don’t think it’s right," Gianna bit out. "That’s my son. Not hers."

"Nobody said she was his mama, Gianna," Creed said, voice edged with irritation. "But she’s in his life. And that ain't changing."

Gianna scoffed. "You wouldn’t even have to worry about that if you just did what you were supposed to do and came home where you belong."

Creed sighed heavily. "Not this shit again."

"Yes, this shit again!" she snapped, her voice rising. "Creed, we have a son together. We’re supposed to be a family. This whole thing—this little fantasy life you’re playing house with—it’s not real."

I stiffened.

"Gianna, listen to me," Creed said, tone low, firm, unmovable. "You and I? We ain't been together in years. And we never will be again. You gotta stop holding onto this idea that we’re supposed to be something just because we got Gio. We co-parents, period. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But it’s not just co-parenting, Creed!" she pushed. "You and I have history. We built something together. You really gon’ tell me you love her more than you love me?"

Creed didn’t answer right away. "Gianna, I don’t love you like that no more. I mean, I have love for you as the mother of my child, but you gotta let this shit go."

A sharp silence followed. And it was at that moment, I realized…I shouldn’t be listening to this. I quietly stepped back, inhaling deeply, willing myself to forget everything I just heard.

But the truth was? I couldn't. Because I knew this wasn’t over. Not even close.

By the time Creed left the bathroom, I was sitting on our bed, scrolling through my phone, pretending like I hadn’t just heard his entire conversation.

He stopped when he saw me, tilting his head slightly. "You good?"

I nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Yeah. Just tired. Gio is finally sleep after making me read The Caterpillar three times."

He watched me, too closely, then sat down beside me, his hand resting on my thigh. "You sure?"

I finally looked at him, debating if I should just let it go. But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t about to sit here and pretend like I hadn’t heard his baby mama trashing me over the phone.

"Gianna still got a problem with me being around Gio?" I asked quietly. Creed exhaled, leaning forward, rubbing a hand down his face.

"She’s just insecure, SB. She thinks?—"

"She thinks I’m trying to take her place," I finished. Creed looked at me, hesitating before he nodded. I licked my lips, staring down at my hands. "Do you agree?"

"What?" His brows furrowed.

"Do you think I’m overstepping? That I should back off?"

"Hell no," he said immediately, his grip on my thigh tightening. "You love that boy. And he loves you. Ain’t no changing that."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

"I just… I don’t want to make things harder for you."

"You’re not," Creed said, shaking his head. "Gianna just gotta get over it. This is our life. And you’re a part of it, SB. Whether she likes it or not."

His words soothed me. But deep down? I knew this wasn’t over. Not even close.