You replied “okay baby, be safe, love you” thinking about how loyal and sweet your man is to let you know ahead of time that he’ll be busy all day.
You text back immediately “that picture on your ig story... who was that girl across from you” you scurry back to the app to screenshot the pic and it’s gone.
4 days later... he texts you “wyd”
You respond “nothing, chilling, wby”
He texts back hours later “nothing, i wanna see you” you’re mad because he ain’t shit but you reminisce on how good the sex was and you text back “why”
7 months go by. It’s 8:12am and You’re otw to the hospital. Your contractions are getting closer together. You’re calling (insert ain’t shit niggas name here) and he’s declining every last one.
You look down at your stomach and see white gauze and hospital tape.
“He’s in the next room, he has Dante.” She says. You try to get up but your body is aching and too weak to move. “Dante? Who said i wanted his name to be Dante?” You’re pissed.