Chap. 66 • "Epiphany"

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Trimester 3
Month 9
Aya Weathers

As I sat at the cafe getting some writing done, the sound of the door opening caught my attention. I looked up from my laptop to see a chocolate man waltz in wearing a red snapback and a white and red Vlone shirt. He gave me rich hood nigga vibes. But he turned his head and that's when I realized it was..

"Dr. Parker?" I scrunched up my face in confusion. I'm so used to seeing him all classy and business like, this is something much different.

He stood with a slouch, scrolling on his phone. I took notice to the Rolex sitting pretty on his wrist. I caught myself biting my lip, scrutinizing his appearance from head to toe. He looked to the left, then to the right, and his eyes met mine. A pretty smile spread across his face as he waved. I waved back with a toothless smile, turning my attention back to my computer.

Taking a sip of my coffee, I continued to type away, lost in my own thoughts. I checked the time, seeing that it was 11:49. I felt my phone vibrate next to me, and saw the notification pop up on my Macbook. I looked to see that it was a text from Tory. He was asking if he could come over later tonight. I responded with a simple "yeah" and closed our messages.

A few minutes later I glanced up to see Dr. Parker coming my way with a coffee in his hand.

"Mind if I sit here?" He asked. Can I sit on your face?

"No, not at all. You know I didn't recognize you at first." I told him as he took the seat across from me.

"The clothes?" He asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Definitely. It's much different from your work attire. I was like, is that Dr. Parker?"

"Quit with the formal shit. You can call me James, we're friends." I admired the amount of eye contact he gave me, but it was causing my heart to skip unhealthy beats.

"Are we now?" I raised an eyebrow with a smirk on my face.

"I said we are, didn't I?" He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, giving me a look I couldn't quite comprehend.

"Alright, James. We're friends." I nodded and picked up my coffee mug, looking at him through the rim of my glasses.

"How's the little one?" He changed the subject.

"He's kicking my ass. I swear I'm ready to drop this damn baby so I can feel normal again." I exaggerated.

"I couldn't imagine being a pregnant woman." He shook his head.

"It's a pain in the ass. The tiredness, the swelling of the feet, the constant hunger, I'm 'bout sick of it. I caught myself talking to him one night, telling him to pay me rent for living in my stomach or else he getting evicted." I joked. He burst into a fit of laughter, the bass in his voice booming in my ears.

"I like how open you are." He smiled, sending me a piercing gaze.

"Open? I guess I didn't really notice." I shrugged, fighting the blood urging to rush to my cheeks.

"Well, if there's one good thing about the pregnancy process, it can definitely make a woman even more beautiful than she already is." His dimple plus the smile only made his words sound like gibberish.

"So what's your story? I talk about myself all the time and don't know shit about you. I mean, hell, I didn't even recognize you coming in the door." I chuckled.

"There's not much to me. Grew up in the projects of Atlanta, luckily, I was smart enough to get a good scholarship to college. I got my PhD and decided that I wanted to be a therapist. Once my business skyrocketed, I moved my family out here." He summed up his story.

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