II

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Jay

(cont.)

I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. "The fuck you want Mathew?"

"Listen, I just want to speak with you and Beyoncé. I'm not here to cause any trouble." Mathew said. "Neither of you will answer my emails, and that's the only form of contact I have with either of you. I understand you aren't the happiest with me, but we need to sit down and talk like adults. It's been years. Y'all can't ignore me forever. I'd like to meet my grandchildren too, I don't think it's fair that you're keeping me from them."

Chhh, what? Did he forget about all the shit he put us through? There's a reason why Beyoncé won't speak to him, and there's a reason why we cut him out of our lives eight years ago. Talking about "it's been years," shit, it ain't been long enough. I'd be fine if I never saw this nigga again and I'm sure Bey feels the same. There's no way in hell I'm letting him near my kids either.

"Man, you need to leave." I said shaking my head. "This isn't the time or place to have this conversation. How did you even find out where we live?"

"Don't worry about that." Mathew said. I looked at him for a minute.

"The fuck I won't. How did you get our address?" I repeated. I wanted to know who thought it was ok to give this nigga our personal information.

"Shawn, can we please just sit down and have a civilized conversation–"

"Nah. Leave." I said. "Off my property before I call the cops Mathew. My wife don't need to see you right now."

He started shaking his head but I don't care. Seeing him will make Bey start stressing and I'm not about to let that happen. She's in a good place right now and I'm not about to let this sorry ass nigga fuck that up.

"Can I at least give you my number? Just so you'll have a way to contact me if you change your mind?" Mathew asked. I sighed and nodded. He pulled out a business card and handed it to me. "I really am sorry Shawn. I hope you and my daughter both know that."

I watched him get back in his car and drive off. On his way out another car pulled in. This must be the actual pizza guy. Good, because the longer I'm out here the more questions Beyoncé's gonna ask.

I gave the pizza guy the money and told him to keep the change before heading back inside. I walked to the kitchen where everyone was waiting. They stopped talking and looked at me.

"What took you so long?" Bella asked after I set the pizza boxes down on the island.

"I had to get change." I lied and grabbed a plate from Bey. She had that look on her face and I already knew she was about to hit me with fifty questions. Damn.

"Mhmm." Bey fixed Sienna and Brooklyn's plates before walking over to me. "Let's talk in the living room." She whispered in my ear. I sighed and followed her out of the kitchen.

"Where y'all going?" I heard Brooklyn ask.

"Mind your business." Blue told her. I shook my head and walked down the hall to the living room. I sat on the couch and Bey looked at me with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Who was at the door?" She asked.

"The pizza guy–"

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