It's a typical Saturday afternoon. Malik's lounging on the couch, glued to his PS5, fully focused on his game. His fingers work the controller expertly as he plays his usual NCAA tournament, cursing under his breath whenever a mistake happens.
I can't help but smile as I watch him, his competitive streak taking over. It's one of the things I love most about him—his drive, his intensity. But even as he's lost in his game, I've got other things on my mind.
I sit on the opposite side of the couch, balancing my wedding planner on one knee, flipping through a list of clients I'll need to work with this week. My mind's running a mile a minute. My shop needs a few upgrades. I'm running low on product. And the wedding... it's getting closer. Eight months to go. I need to make sure everything's perfect.
Malik's voice pulls me from my thoughts.
"Hey, Trav, can you grab me some snacks from the kitchen? I'm starving."
I glance up and chuckle. "You've been sitting here for hours playing. You couldn't get up for five minutes?"
He gives me a half-smirk, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I'm in the zone, babe. Come on. Don't make me pause the game."
"Fine, fine," I laugh, shaking my head. I'm getting up anyway to grab something for myself, so I head toward the kitchen.
As I pass by the coffee table, I notice Malik's phone buzzing—messages lighting up the screen. It's not like I'm trying to snoop, but I can't help but glance.
I stop mid-step when I see the name on the screen. It's from an unknown number, and the message is... strange.
"Have you told your fiancé about your son yet?"
My stomach drops. I freeze. The words feel like a punch to the gut.
What does this mean?
Two & half years earlier
