Love Delayed

She smacked her teeth. “Oh, when I was hiiiiiiigh?” We both busted in laughter. I grabbed my stomach at that one.

“Yeah. Then.”

“Naw! That was a different type of intoxication. The best of my life. I doubt if anything could top th—”

Zoey halted her words. She must have known she was crossing into gray territory. I, on the other hand, was pleased that she at least acknowledged our better days. It made me give myself permission to escape our reality, the mess I’d made.

I sat up in my chair, facing her square on. My eyes were leveled with hers while my back stretched broad, ready to catch whatever she threw my way, metaphorically speaking. I remembered Sarah’s words of advice concerning Zoey. She said Zo needed time to figure out what she wanted and who she was.

“So much has changed since then, Zo. I’m sure the pregnancy, and now birth have given you a new perspective on life. What do you see for us...you, me and little Jordan down the road?”

Silently, I begged for her to speak of a family unit, something that would include us…together, officially.

Zoey shrugged. “I don’t know...I just see me doing whatever I need to, to make a wonderful life for the little guy. I’ll do whatever I can to provide, as much as possible, the stability my parents have given me all these years.” Then her eyes returned to me. “And I’m sure he’ll learn early on that he has one cool dad.”

My chin dropped, body sagged as a crisp shiver swarmed over my back, and my chest squeezed at the picture she just drew. I was secondary to her plans with our son. She still didn’t want us to resemble a traditional family. Zoey wanted no semblance of tradition. We were still at a blatant impasse. My heart was still on hold.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and right after, Jordan’s bassinet was being wheeled back in. That stole both our attention and blocked the somber pit I was about to fall into.

“Let’s try to feed again. Come, Jordan,” Zoey called out excitedly with outstretched arms. “Come feed from your momma finally.”

The nurse placed Jordan in Zoey’s arms advising of a football hold. I watched absorbedly as Zoey released her left breast from her gown and placed her dark and enlarged nipple over Jordan’s sealed mouth and soothingly cooed words of encouragement to eat. I had no idea what the hell this was about, but I soon saw my son open his little jaw and eventually start to draw from Zoey’s breast.

Just then, Zoey’s cell chirped next to me.

“Could you check that for me, Stent?” she called back to me, not removing her eyes from our son or sounding pressed about answering the text that came through.

Slowly, I reached for it on the table next to the bed. Even my eyes were glued to the event in Zoey’s arms. It was weird as shit to watch another mouth on my Ni?a’s boob, even though it was my son’s. But he was so damn precious as he wrapped his miniature lips around her and pulled. Zoey giggled happily.

“You’re doing it, Elizabeth!” the nurse cheered them on and threw me a happy glance as well.

So fucking proud of her was what went through my mind as I turned my attention back down to her phone. I slid the bar to the text app.

Bernard: Is it super weird that I want to meet your son? I would really like to stop by the hospital to check on you two. If it’s cool send me the info. My prayers are with you two.

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