Page 33

SERENITY

T he door clicked shut behind him. And finally—finally—he was gone.

I laid there, staring at the ceiling, my body feeling empty, my heart feeling hollow. I should have felt relieved. But I didn’t. Because despite how badly he hurt me, despite how shattered I was— I still loved him. And that? That was the worst part of all of this.

Just hours ago, I had been so happy. I had boarded a flight back home, my fingers tracing over the ultrasound photo in my purse. I had been so excited to see him, to tell him that our family was growing, that Gio was going to be a big brother.

But instead… Instead, I was here. Alone. Lying in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm. My Lexus was wrecked. My body was bruised. My relationship was over. The only thing I was thankful for was my baby.

I laid my hand over my stomach, my palm pressing gently against the small but growing life inside me.

"I’m so sorry, baby," I whispered, my throat thick with emotion. Tears slid down the sides of my face, wetting the pillow beneath me.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. The doctor walked in, a tablet in hand, smiling gently. "How are you feeling, Miss Bradshaw?"

I swallowed hard. "Like my world just fell apart."

Her smile faltered slightly, but she didn’t pry.

"We’re going to keep you overnight, just to monitor everything.

Your injuries are minor, but we want to ensure that both you and the baby remain stable.

" I nodded weakly, barely processing what she was saying.

"Would you like to change into a fresh hospital gown?

" I nodded again no words escaping my lips.

As she handed me the gown and stepped out, I felt a deep ache settle into my chest. I needed someone. I needed my mama. With shaky hands I reached for the hospital phone. My mind was foggy, but one number came to me instantly, so I dialed it.

It rang once…twice.

"This is Dwight speaking." Relief flooded me.

"Dwight…" My voice broke, and suddenly, I was crying again.

"Serenity? Baby, what’s wrong?"

"I—I need to talk to my mama," I choked out.

"Hold on."

There was a shuffle. A moment of silence. Then?—

"Serenity?" Upon hearing my mother’s voice, I broke down completely.

"Mommy," I sobbed.

"What happened?" Her voice was urgent, filled with concern.

I told her everything. I told her about the accident. I told her about my baby and finally I told her about the betrayal.

Sienna didn’t hesitate. "I’m coming."

And then, the line went dead. I curled onto my side, clutching my stomach, and cried myself to sleep.

By morning, my mother was here. The second she walked into the hospital room, her presence filled the space.

"Baby," she whispered, her voice softer than I had ever heard it. I couldn’t say anything. I just collapsed into her arms, sobbing. She held me tight, rubbing slow, comforting circles on my back. "I got you," she murmured. "Everything’s gonna be okay."

And for the first time in years, I actually believed her.

We were discharged quickly, my mama handling everything. I was in a daze, eyes blank and unmoving. I felt dead inside. How did this happen? Why was this happening? How could Creed do this to me?

From what he told me, he’d never cheated on Gianna during their entire relationship. I believed him, believed it when he told me he would ever cheat on me either. I believed he was loyal to me, never thought he’d do this.

On the way out, we ran into the last person I wanted to see. Creed. And, of course, his damn mama was with him.

Tasha started speaking first, her expression set in something fake and forced. "Serenity, sweetheart, I?—"

Sienna was not having it.

"Don’t you dare," she snapped, stepping in front of me like a shield.

"You better be lucky I need to take care of my daughter, or I’d make an even bigger scene in this mutha fucka.

" I could hear every bit of the Brooklyn accent coming out of her.

Normally she was cool, calm, and collected.

But in this moment she was mama bear and she was ready for a fight.

Creed looked broken, his light brown eyes desperate as they locked onto mine. "Baby, please," he whispered. "Just talk to me."

I clenched my jaw. I wanted to break down, to let him pull me into his arms, to believe his apologies. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned to him coldly. "We don’t have anything to talk about." I had made myself clear yesterday.

Something flashed in his eyes—something painful. He reached into his pocket and handed me my cellphone.

"The police dropped it off yesterday," he said quietly. "I thought you lost it." I took it, gripping it tight, then walked past him.

The pain in my chest was unbearable, but I forced myself not to look back. Because I knew if I did I might never leave.

The private jet was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound. I sat by the window, staring out into the sky, my fingers clutching my ultrasound photo. Tears slipped down my cheeks silently. My mother sat across from me, watching me closely.

"Everything is going to be okay," she said softly.

I nodded, wanting to believe that was true. But deep down? I wasn’t so sure.

The next few weeks in Atlanta were a blur. I ignored every single one of Creed’s calls. I buried myself in my mother’s condo, surrounded by her staff, her assistants, her people. Then my daddy and Sevyn showed up.

I told them about the baby. They were supportive—but worried. Because I wasn’t myself anymore. I was spiraling. I was sinking and I didn’t know how to stop it.

One night, I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

I had been debating something for weeks.

Whether or not I should even keep this baby.

Not because I didn’t love them— but because I didn’t know if I was strong enough.

I had never planned on doing this alone.

I had never thought this would be my reality.

But then… I thought about Creed’s mother, Gianna. Gianna’s ugly mother. And suddenly, I knew. I would never let them win. They had taken so much from me already and all because of what? Because I loved a man who didn’t deserve me.

So the next morning I booked a flight, and I packed my bags. And I told my mother— "I’m going back to New York."

She tried to talk me out of it. Told me I should stay with her or go home to California. She told me I should heal. But I couldn’t. Because I needed to be home. I needed my girls.

Late that night when I stepped into my penthouse, I barely had time to drop my bags before I was surrounded.

Averi. Egypt and Arielle. They hugged me tight, and I finally let myself fall apart.

I told them everything. I told them about the baby, and I told them I wasn’t sure if I should keep it.

And they just held me and comforted me through my emotions.

They all knew how much I loved that man, so it was only right I be as devastated about this situation as I was,

"No matter what you decide," Arielle whispered. "We got you."

“Absolutely. We got you Serenity,” Egypt agreed.

As I laid in my bed later that night, I watched as the ceiling fan whirled around above me, dripping cold air down on my body, yet I felt overheated. My hand laid on my stomach and I grabbed my phone. I opened the pregnancy app I’d downloaded while I was in Atlanta.

It had been three weeks since I found out I was pregnant, and I knew it was nearing a time where I needed to set up an appointment for a checkup.

As I logged into the app, the first thing I saw were the words You’re 11 weeks and 2 days. Your baby is now the size of a fig. Your baby has fingers and toes forming, and their bones are hardening. External genitalia has almost completely formed. Congrats Mama, you’ve made it another week.

My baby was forming fingers and toes. This shit was real. I made it up in my mind right then and there that I was keeping it and I would need to call my OB asap to make an appointment.

The morning air was crisp as I walked the familiar streets of New York, hand resting on my stomach out of pure instinct.

I was thirteen weeks pregnant now. Three months.

The last time I had been at the doctor, they told me the risk of miscarriage had dropped significantly.

It was the first good news I had received in what felt like forever.

Physically, not much had changed. I had only gained a few pounds, and my stomach, though firm to the touch, wasn’t showing yet.

It was a blessing in disguise, considering the semester had started, and I couldn’t afford any distractions. Not when I was this close to graduating and not when I was determined to finish my degree.

When I got to school, the first thing I did was go to the dean of the dance program’s office. I was going to be in for a rough year especially being pregnant and I needed to inform her and all my professors.

"Miss Bradshaw, I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to continue in the program."

I sat stiffly in my seat, my nails digging into my palms. "Excuse me?" I asked, my voice calm but sharp.

She sighed, removing her glasses. "Serenity, you know how strenuous senior year is in Tisch’s dance program. It’s physically demanding. The hours, the rehearsals, the performances?—"

"I know all of that," I interrupted. "And I can handle it."

She gave me a pointed look. "You’re pregnant."

"And I’m healthy," I countered. "I already spoke to my doctor, and she said as long as I take care of myself, I can complete this semester at least with no issues. I’ll figure things out for next semester, maybe I take it off before coming back in the fall."

She folded her arms. "But what about the baby? You don’t want to put unnecessary stress on your body."

"The baby is fine," I reassured. "And I know my limits. If I feel like I can’t handle it, I’ll be the first to say so. But I’ve worked too damn hard to let this stop me now."

She studied me for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. "Fine. But if you feel even the slightest discomfort, you come to me immediately."

"I will," I promised.

Leaving the office, I let out a breath of relief. I wasn’t giving up. Not on my dreams, not on my future and certainly not on myself.

That night, I sat curled up on the couch in the penthouse, a half-empty carton of Chicken fried rice in my lap. For the first time in weeks, I was eating something and not throwing it up.

"You finally keeping food down?" Ari asked from the other couch.

"Barely." I sighed, shoving another forkful into my mouth.

"Good, because we were this close to force-feeding you," Egypt added.

"I was actually looking up IV therapy places," Averi chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. "Y’all are so dramatic."

The three of them exchanged looks.

"Says the girl who’s been surviving on ginger ale and crackers for weeks," Ari teased.

I was about to fire back, but then?—

My phone rang.

I looked down, and my breath hitched. Creed.

For a long moment, I just stared at the screen.

"You gonna answer?" Egypt asked, eyebrows raised.

I swallowed hard. Then, slowly, I picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear.

Silence before his familiar voice came through the phone. "Hey."

His voice was low, uncertain.

"Hey," I murmured back getting up from my seat and going out onto the balcony for some privacy. The night air was crisp but not unbearable.

Another pause. Then he exhaled sharply.

"I know I don’t deserve for you to pick up this call," he started.

"And I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but…

I needed to hear your voice." I bit my lip, my heart tightening.

"Serenity, I’m sorry," he said, voice thick with emotion.

"For everything. For hurting you. For betraying you. I don’t have any excuse.

I just…" He sighed. "I don’t even know what to say anymore. "

I let him talk. I let him spill his regrets. And when he was finally done, I inhaled deeply.

"You don’t understand how much you hurt me, Creed," I finally said, my voice shaky but firm.

I heard him swallow hard as I continued.

"You made me believe I had nothing to worry about when it came to Gianna. You acted like she was your past. Like she didn’t matter.

" He didn’t say anything. "But the first chance you got?

You fucked her in our home and in our bed. " I whispered, my voice breaking.

"I know," he choked out. "I can’t change that, but, damn, I wish I could." I stayed silent. It was my turn to not have words for him. "Gio’s been asking about you," he said softly. My eyes burned. I missed that little boy more than words could explain. "Serenity…"

"We need space," I interrupted. He was quiet. "I love you, and I love Gio," I admitted. "But I think it’s best if we keep our distance. For now."

"What about the baby?"

I took a shaky breath. "My doctor says my risk of miscarriage is gone. But we still have a long way to go."

"I’m glad," he said. "I’m glad you’re having my baby."

I hesitated. Then, before I could stop myself— "I almost didn’t."

Again the line went silent. Dead silent.

"What?"

"I almost had an abortion," I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I thought about it, seriously thought about it in the days and weeks after everything went down.”

I heard him inhale sharply. I could picture him now—jaw tight, eyes filled with emotion. "But you didn’t," he said finally.

"No, I didn’t. Because at the end of the day, I want my baby and despite everything that happened, he or she was made from love. I loved you so much."

There was a short pause as if he were trying to process my words before he spoke.

"Loved?" he said softly. I didn’t dignify him with a response. We both knew I didn’t mean it in past tense. I was still very much in love with him. It’s why I was keeping our baby, it’s why I had even taken his call in the first place. "Thank you for not killing my baby."

Tears slipped down my face. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back.

"I meant what I said, Creed," I murmured. "We need distance. The only thing we should be talking about is this baby."

"So, you’re really not gonna take the year off?" he asked.

I almost laughed. "Absolutely the fuck not."

He let out a deep breath. I was ready for him to press the issue, but no matter what; I was not taking time off school. There was nothing he could say to convince me to do so.

It was as if through my silence he knew there was nothing he could say or do. "Alright," he said, accepting it.

We sat there in silence for a moment. Then, quietly, we agreed to keep the line of communication open— But only for the baby and absolutely nothing else. Then I hung up before going back inside. I curled up on the couch.

“You okay?” Arielle asked rubbing my curls from my face.

I nodded before placing my hand on my stomach and let the reality sink in. This was my life now. No Creed, no Giovanni, it was just me.

And my baby.