Bad Seed

“It’s that man of yours, isn’t it? Girl, he’s a hunk.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “But he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“All men are pains in our asses, hon,” Stacia chuckled. “But we love 'em anyway.”

“Love? Who said anything about love?” I giggled, trying to hide the color rising in my cheeks.

Stacia gave me a look that said she could see right through me.

“My question still stands, hon. Now, what’s goin’ on with you and Mr. Chiseled Jeans?” she asked.

“He’s trying to control my every move,” I said. “Where I go. What I do. Where I sleep. I told you about the fight we had yesterday with just me leaving the house. Now he’s upset that I didn’t go back last night.”

“Can ya blame him? You call him cryin’ from a hospital bed ‘bout bein’ pregnant with his kid, he comes a’runnin,’ then you just wanna shove him away again? You?

?re throwin’ the poor man under the bus for wantin’ to protect ya.”

“He’s not protecting me. He’s controlling me.”

“Potato, Potat-oh. Same damn difference,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“In his eyes, he is protecting you. He's scared shitless, girl, because he loves you and doesn't want to lose you. Maybe he's not goin' about it in the right ways, sure... You're independent, so of course if freaks ya out, but it's nothin' you can't work out. Take me and my man for instance - we have a routine. Breakfast on the table by seven, I usually cook. Nice strong coffee for him, oatmeal for me. We shower together, touch base durin' lunch to make sure the other one's doin' fine. Then I come home, and he's already started on dinner, whatever he's in the mood for. We cuddle on the couch, maybe some evening lovin' and then we sleep.” ”

“Every day? And you just—let him make all those decisions for you?” I asked.

“Who the hell said he made all those decisions? Girl, we came up with that schedule together. That’s what you do in a relationship. That man wanted you to come to his home so he could cook you some dinner and make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“He wanted to keep me there on Monday. He didn’t want me coming into work,” I said.

“Until a doctor cleared you, that's all. Because he was worried about you, hon. Not because he wanted to keep you captive.”

I shook my head and got back to work, but she had a point. A relationship was give and take, and while I thought he was doing all the taking, that wasn’t really what was happening. It would take conversations to figure this stuff out, and we couldn’t have those conversations if I was avoiding him.

So, during lunch, I talked with Stacia about another issue I had.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” she said.

“The father of my child—”

“We gonna act like I don’t know who that is?” she asked.

“Can we?”

“Girl, if we can’t even mention the man’s name, then let’s address that. You’re scared, hun.”

“I’m not scared. Just wary of things getting out to the media.”

“Sweetie, if I wanted to run to the media, I’da done it this weekend. You can’t say his name, then we’re gonna address that first,” she said.

“Fine. Drake. He’s a bit—forceful.”

“Uh huh. Forceful how?” she asked.

“Just sort of—kisses me out of the blue. Picks me up and tosses me onto his bed. Tells me what to do and expects me to listen. He just thinks I should—follow his lead.”