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The basement was nothing like I expected. It was clean and organized. There was medical equipment lining the walls, surgical lights overhead, and a real gurney in the center of the room. A makeshift OR was what we’d stepped into—quiet, sterile, and ready. I laid her down carefully.

“She’s pregnant,” I told them, my voice low but firm.

Doc’s wife nodded and began hooking up machines while Doc moved quickly, checking her vitals and calling out numbers I didn’t understand. Olivia whimpered again, her hand reaching for mine. I caught it immediately, pressing my forehead against hers.

“You can trust them, baby,” I whispered. “I’m right here. I ain’t going nowhere.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded.

“Bo,” Doc said, his voice calm but firm. “Step out. We need space to work. Go wait upstairs. We’re going to take good care of her.”

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to leave her side. But I also knew if I stayed, I’d be in the way. I squeezed her hand once more like I was passing every bit of strength I had into her body. “I’ll be right upstairs, baby. I’m only leaving so they can get you right. Right upstairs, that’s it.”

Then I turned and forced myself up the steps, one heavy foot after another, as if I was climbing out of hell.

When I reached the living room, I didn’t sit.

I paced the floor instead for what seemed like hours before Doc’s wife came into the living room to inform me that Olivia and the baby were both fine.

They gave her some generic pain pills and something to help her sleep.

For the rest of the night, I stayed by Olivia's side, thankful that we got to her in time. Who knows what those fuck niggas was going to do to her if I was a second later.

I t’s been three days since that nigga Josh kidnapped my girl, and I wasn’t ready to deal with this shit with my mother, but I knew it had to be done. My head was all fucked up. When she came over to check on Olivia, I made sure to be in my studio until she left.

As for Olivia, she has been doing as fine as expected.

Doc put her on bed rest for a week, and my baby wasn’t feeling it.

But she doesn’t have a choice. I’ve been staying home to keep her little stubborn ass in check.

Lexi and Denim have been sliding through, too, bringing her snacks, watching movies with her, and taking over my damn bedroom like they paid bills here.

But I wasn’t tripping. As long as Liv was smiling and the baby was healthy, I was good.

Now that all had been revealed, life was hitting different now. A nigga was about to be a dad—a whole dad. I was happy about it, ready to raise my son in a completely different environment than I was raised in. I was going to break the cycle if it was the last thing I did on this earth.

I pulled up to Grandma’s house, sitting behind the wheel for a minute, just watching the front porch like it was a trap.

Engine running, windows halfway down, and smoke from my blunt, I sat and waited for nothing in particular.

The smoke was symbolic to the thoughts I wasn’t ready to deal with—floating about with no resolve in sight.

I didn’t want to be here, but I had to be.

Grandma had been blowing up my phone like crazy, threatening to beat my ass if I didn’t show.

I killed the engine and stepped out, hoodie up and chain swinging. The air smelled like fried catfish; Grandma always threw down when she was stressed. I stepped up on the porch and gave the screen door a knock before pushing it open.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” My grandma sassed from her loveseat.

My mother was sitting on the couch, along with that nigga Charles and some girl. She looked to be in her early twenties, and was petite with long braids that the ladies wore nowadays. She stared at me with wide eyes and a small smile.

I inhaled, then exhaled slowly before hugging my grandma and my mother. I opted to nod to Charles and ole girl—I didn’t hug strangers.

“Son, have a seat,” my mom stated, but I declined.

“I’ll stand.”

She let out a shaky sigh, her voice low like the words were stuck in her throat.

“Son…” She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time in a long time. “I need to start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you… for keeping the truth about your father from you all these years.”

I didn’t say anything. I just stared, jaw tight and chest heavy.

“I thought I was protecting you…” She went on, voice cracking. “But all I did was steal time. I robbed you of knowing your real father… from building memories with him, of getting answers only he could give. And that’s on me.” She swallowed hard, eyes glossy with guilt.

“I know saying sorry don’t fix any of it.

I know it won’t rewind time or erase the anger you have every right to feel.

But I’m hoping—praying—that we can move forward from this.

I’m hopeful that you’ll let me earn back your trust, piece by piece.

And maybe one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. ”

The room went quiet. The weight of her words hung in the air like smolder. She looked down at her hands, wringing them together like she expected me to explode, but I didn’t. I just stood there trying to figure out how to let go of a lifetime of questions now answered too late.

“Dad! I can’t believe I have a brother. And he’s handsome and… huge,” Ole girl tried to whisper to Charles, but I heard her.

“Yes, Amina. Boris is your big brother.”

“Wow! I’ve always wanted a big brother.” She smiled, and I chuckled on the inside. I could see it now; I’ll definitely be an overprotective brother.

I looked at my mother, sitting there wringing her hands like she could squeeze some comfortability back into our relationship.

She looked so small at that moment—tired.

Not just physically tired, but soul-deep tired.

She’d been carrying this shame for years, and now that it was out, all she could do was wait for the fallout.

But it wasn’t going to happen.

I wanted to—God knows I wanted to snap on her.

I wanted to yell and ask her how she could lie to me for so long and make me believe that Henry was my father.

She had me thinking we were all we had. But I didn’t do any of that.

What good would it do? Her actions had caused something that could not be fixed with truth.

Instead, I stepped closer. Not to comfort her but to make sure my voice didn’t crack when I spoke.

“I’m confused,” I said because that much was honest. “I don’t know what to feel right now. Angry? Sure. But more than that, I’m just tired of holding all this weight I didn’t ask for.”

Her lip trembled, and I knew she was holding back tears.

“But I forgive you, Mama,” I said softly. “Not because it doesn’t hurt, but because… I can’t carry this around forever. I won’t. I no longer feel guilty for what I did to save you. To save us. I’ll do it all over again, honestly. The only thing I’d change is letting you take that bid for me.”

She looked up, eyes wide. “Boris, baby, no. It’s my fault. I put us in that situation. I never regretted what I did to save you. I love you, son. I just want to move forward if you’ll let us.”

“It’s going to be hard to do that… but I’m willing to try.”

She nodded silently like she didn’t trust her voice. I turned to Charles. He looked like he’d been holding his breath too.

“I know this ain’t your fault,” I said, my voice a little rougher now. “You didn’t ask for any of this either.”

“I didn’t,” he said, scooting to the edge of the couch. “But I should’ve done more. I should’ve asked more questions.”

“Maybe…” I said. “But blaming you doesn't fix it either.”

He nodded. “So, what now?”

“It’s gonna take time, but I am willing to give this a try. We’ll figure out how we fit together to try to find some type of relationship beneath the awkwardness.”

Charles smiled and gave me a nod.

Amina stood up and stood in front of me. “So does this mean I can tell my friends that I have a big brother?” she asked shyly, and that made me chuckle.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want. How old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty-two in two months.”

“You gotta boyfriend?” I was already being an overprotective big brother. It felt good.

“No. Well… had, but I dumped him because he cheated on me with my best friend. He keeps calling my phone, but I blocked him.” She kissed her teeth and rolled her big brown eyes.

“Good. If he keeps fucking with you, tell him your big brother is going to choke his ass.”

“Yes!” She flung her arms around me, and that shit felt weird but good. I had a sister. The shit was crazy to even fathom in my mind.

“Well!” My grandma smiled as she stood from her seat. “Let’s eat!”

As everyone walked into the kitchen, my mother stayed back. I already knew what was coming.

“Boris… I really am sorry. I love you, son. And I am going to do everything in my power to get what we had back to how it used to be.” She grabbed my face, pulled me down, and kissed me on the cheek.

“Ma, ain’t shit change. I’m gonna always love you. But check it. What’s good? Are you tryna get that old thing back?” I raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the kitchen, talking about Charles.

She dropped her head, trying to hide her blush. “Charles was my first love—the first man to show me what love was. He asked me out on a date. Does that bother you?”

“Nah. I just hope that nigga know how I’m coming behind my mama. Father or not, I’ll shoot his ass. No pun intended.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Boy, let’s go on in here! And I made my daughter-in-law a plate, so you are not staying long. You need to be home in time to feed her and my grandbaby.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice. She texted me on my way here… talking about, “Don’t forget my plate, Bo.”” I mocked Olivia. “I swear… my baby greedy as fuck. Don’t tell her I said that.” I chuckled.

“I won’t,” she laughed. “But listen, I do need to ask you a favor.”

I already knew I was about to get roped into something.

“I need you to drive me upstate next week,” she said, smoothing out the folds in her skirt like she was trying to make the request sound casual. “I want to go visit my friend Tiny. She was my cellmate… we did time together.”

“What kind of name is, Tiny?”

“Boy hush!” She slapped me on my chest and laughed.

“Tiny and I, we held each other down when the walls felt like they were closing in. You don’t come across loyalty like that often.

Not inside, not out here either. I just want to make sure she’s doing okay.

Hell, I owe her more than that. She helped keep me sane in a place built to break you. You don’t forget folks like that.”

“Okay. I got you.” I kissed her on her forehead.

As we all ate together as a family full of holes and second chances, trying to figure out what healing looked like when the truth finally came to light, I was grateful for all that had occurred—the good, bad, and ugly.