“Okay, Rayna,” she turns to me. “I have to respond to that. I’ll have Patti come in and collect your urine and go over some information with you while we wait on the results of your pregnancy test.” She pats me on the leg, “Don’t panic. I’m sure either way, that hunk of a man of yours will be just fine.” I’m hit with a waft of her, I’m sure, designer eau de toilette as she turns on her heels for the door. “And thanks for your patience with me today. This place has been a zoo,” she sighs just before closing the door.
My shoulders collapse. I think in a perfect world, I was expecting her to tell me I was premature in my concerns. I can’t believe I’m taking a pregnancy test less than two months of being married!
I throw my sagging body off the table and saunter over to the en suite bathroom and do my duty. Once I’m done and sitting back on the table, my mind starts racing with fear. Fear of losing him. What if he thinks this was all a scheme to get to his money? What if when he told me he wants kids he didn’t mean this soon? What if he’s changed his mind about wanting to be a father at all? Would he leave me?
My phone goes off again. It’s Chanell and this time I could use her trivial gossip as a distraction.
“Yeah, C?”
“We been tryna’ call you for a mad long time, yo’!” I can hear tears in her voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Divine hopped on a plane. He tried to call you before he took off. Kid got capped. It ain’t looking good, yo’,” Chanell shrieks and then I hear the pending cry. My mouth drops.
“I’m so sorry, C. What can I do?”
She sniffles, “Divine said meet him at home and don’t move ‘til he gets there, okay?”
I nod my head, before catching myself. She couldn’t see me. “O-okay, C. Please keep me posted.”
“A’ight, yo’. I gotta go. Wop just pulled up. We going to check out dude now,” she advises before hanging up.
I jump off the table and pace the room. Azmir must be beside himself. I don’t know if this is a common occurrence in his other world, at least he’s never said. I don’t recall hearing about shootings or deaths this close to his circle. I will myself to stay and wait for Patti, but even she’s behind today. I eventually decide to get dressed so that I can make myself available for Azmir when he returns from Arizona. I’ll just have to come back to sort this out later with Dr. Barnes.
~~~~~~~~~~
It isn’t until well after midnight that Azmir gets home. As he saunters into the master suite he appears zombified, making his way to me. His shoulders don’t hold their usual grace and confidence. His head is dipped and not well supported by his neck. His eyes are heavy and haunted. My fearless, commanding mogul is visibly wretched.
He stands there for long seconds before saying, “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve heard about Kid’s death. I had to make sure to touch his family and talk to a few friends.”
I nod slowly. “Yes, baby, I’ve heard. I’m so sorry,” I barely breathe out.
Chanell sent a text with the horrific news hours ago. I’m still in shock. I can’t believe Kid’s dead.
I’m frozen, numb in fear. I don’t know if I can grab his long, solid frame into me the way that my arms itch to console him. I’ve never seen him so doleful.
“Is there anything I can do?” I feel like an idiot for uttering that, but I have to say something…offer something.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles before turning on his heels.
My heart constricts in my chest. A pang runs through my upper torso as I observe his desolate gate into the bathroom. Moments later, after I hear the shower running, I crawl from beneath the beddings and go into the bathroom. Our connection is so magnetic that being even in the next room feels inadequate. I see Azmir has doused his clothes into a pile on the floor. I quickly sweep them up and discard them appropriately to be laundered. Then I briskly skip into the walk-in closet to retrieve his favorite house attire: basketball shorts, white tank T-shirt and black ankle sox.
Once he’s done with his shower, I watch Azmir dry and clothe himself, helplessly from the bench. Like the foolish woman I am, I even turn away while he’s indecent as to not give a second to ogling. His sheen, chocolate shell never fails to do things to me, even in my body’s mercurial state. I feel useless. I don’t know what to say or what to do.
We walk out into the master suite and climb into bed. I wait for Azmir to find his comfort before I snuggle behind him, roping my arm around his bubbled abdomen. Azmir audibly sucks in air and I can feel his body go rigid, but I plant myself against his long frame. I know this is unusual for him; I always stay to my side of the bed while sleeping unless he calls me over. But tonight is different. My big guy is hurting and it’s my job to console him, being what he needs when he needs me to be it.
I’m thrown from my sleep from a frightening yelp. I twist around to find a trembling Azmir sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s out of breath, skin is clammy, and goose bumps are disbursed throughout his torso. This time I do throw my arms around him, needing to help him land from whatever nightmare he’s just escaped.