They say you never forget or stop loving your first love.. But is that really true? 1 year after breaking up and having their son, do Madison & Chris share the same feelings? Or is it too late?
If you haven't read the prequel, please go back and do...
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Chris
"Baby, stop moving." I grumbled. A nigga was trying to sleep and kept trying to wiggle out of my hold. "Chris, I have to pee." She whined trying to pry my hands from around her waist. I kissed my teeth and released her reluctantly. She hopped out of the bed quickly and scrambled to the bathroom. I chuckled as I watched her push the door closed.
I looked over at the alarm clock on my night table, 10:30 am. I was surprised Christian hadn't busted into our room yet. He normally woke up around 9, 9:30 on Saturdays. Our room was his first destination. I hopped up and headed to his room to check on him.
Sure enough, he was sprawled out in his bed, knocked out. His arm behind his head, just like me. Our trip to Disney yesterday was a success, so it was no surprise to see him like this. My mama, my sister, Tasha, and the crew got to the park around 12 and we didn't leave until closing.
Christian rode all the rides he wanted to, ate all the candy he wanted to, and overall had a great time. All of us did. Madi and Lytrell were the only two that stayed behind most of the time. Madison hated roller coasters and there was no way she was about to get on, and my sister- well, that was self explanatory. It was great to be around my family and friends after being away for so long, for real.
Four weeks. That's how long they had me sitting in that bland ass, cold ass jail cell. How the fuck do people spend years at a time, locked up in there, without going crazy? I didn't know, because for the short time I was there, it felt like I was going crazy. There was nothing to do, other than stare at the dirty, beige walls, rattled with graffiti. Motherfuckers were bound to go crazy in here.
Being on probation was no joke. Whenever you fucked up, the consequences were major. So, when Mark popped up at my house that day, telling me about my warrant, no lie, I was shook. I knew for sure I was going to jail. The only thing that popped in my mind was leaving my family. I'd miss Christian growing up, Madi and I would grow apart, and my mama... man. I didn't even wanna think about it.Thankfully, he had a plan. He advised me to turn myself in, and we'd go from there.
After I turned myself in, hours later, I had my bail hearing. I had to be the world's unluckiest man, because of course I had to get stuck with the judge that hated my guts. Judge McHale. We'd seen each other before. That nigga hated my guts. So, I wasn't too surprised that he denied my bail. I expected it. I wasn't going nowhere.
I sat in my cell for almost 20 hours a day. I only moved to shower, work out, and call my family. My day started at 6:00 am. I brushed my teeth and thirty minutes later was breakfast. After I ate, I was back in my cell until lunch. After lunch I'd go out side for a little bit, then back indoor. Dinner, and then a shower, then it was lights out. That was my routine for these four weeks. Nothing more, nothing less. I read here and there, wrote, that was the only way I was keeping my sanity.
The day they told me I was being released, I couldn't move fast enough. I had to get the fuck out of there. Darius bitch ass dropped the charges just as this shit was supposed to go to court.
