After Eight years, Ghenesis Santiago leaves for Atlanta, Ga to try having a relationship with her father and his new family. While having to maintain her senior year in highschool and working with her brother and his Crew under her father's orders...
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It was 4:13 in the morning and I was on the bathroom floor again — knees aching, mouth sour, body betrayin’ me one retch at a time. I tried to keep quiet, hand pressed over my mouth until I couldn’t hold it no more. I leaned over the toilet and let it all go, again, for what had to be the third time tonight. Morning sickness? More like demon possession. I tried to steady my breathing, wiping at my lips with the edge of my oversized tee, the same one Zeus always wore to bed.
I’d been sneakin’ out the bed for days now, tryna keep him asleep, tryna let him rest while he still rode out them withdrawal waves. He’d been doin’ better — stronger, clearer — but I knew he was still fightin’ every minute. I didn’t want him worryin’ about me too. That’s just who I was — carryin’ everything ‘til my knees gave out.
But tonight?
Tonight I wasn’t alone.
I jumped when I felt fingers graze my back, then those big, warm hands slid under my curls, holdin’ my hair up gentle while the other rubbed circles between my shoulder blades. I didn’t even have to look. I knew that touch. Knew that energy.
“Papa…” I croaked, voice breakin’ as fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I ain’t mean to wake you…”
He knelt beside me slow, the pads of his thumbs wipin’ my tears like I was porcelain. “Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for, mama,” he whispered, voice still raspy with sleep. “You sick. You can’t help that.”
I closed my eyes, tryna stop the tears but they kept spillin’. My chest felt tight and full of guilt. I took a shaky breath, the weight too heavy now. “Zeus… I’m pregnant…”
Silence.
Not awkward silence, just stillness. The kind of still that feel like time stoppin’.
Then his hand slid around my waist, and he pulled me into him, his lips pressin’ to my forehead so soft it made me cry harder. “I know,” he said, eyes tired but clear, voice calm. “You should be about a month… and two weeks.”
I pulled back, brows furrowed, heart poundin’. “H-how you know that…?”
He looked at me with all this knowing in his face, all this love sittin’ in his eyes. “The day you came back from that appointment before the Vegas job,” he said, “somethin’ was different. You had this… glow, like your whole aura got quieter. Softer. And every time I looked at you, it felt like I was lookin’ at a secret God wanted me to keep.”
I sniffled, speechless.
“And when I’m inside you,” he added, voice droppin’ lower, “I feel every change in your body. You been wetter, warmer, your body respondin’ to mine like it already knew it was carryin’ life.” His eyes dropped to my belly, his hand followin’, fingers spread gently over the tiny bump that wasn’t even showin’ yet. “And even if it ain’t mine by blood… it’s still ours.”
