Too Playa

Order vs. Freedom

Odell POV -

"Listen Odell I didn't come over here to argue." Avielle tried to scream whisper to me.

Donte was out front watching the littke girl while we were in my bedroom talking about this.

"Argue?" I screamed whispered. "You told me you had an abortion!"

She held her head like she had a headache.  "You're being dramatic Odell."

"Dramatic? Three years you run off to Barcelona, Spain then come back with a child and I'm supposed to be all shits and giggles?" I said loudly.

"Keep your voice down." She scream whispered.

"No. I'm not going to keep my voice down. Might of fact, you need to go. You can't walk out my life, then expect to just mosey your way back in. Get out." I opened the door.

"I'm not here because I want you in my life. I'm here because I want you in hers." She insisted.

"Well you should've thought of that three years ago." I brushed passed her, making sure to push her a little.

She regained her composure.

The little girl walked up to me with her arms up smiling for me to pick her up.

I bent down to her. "You're gonna go with your Mommy okay?"

She totally ignored what I said and wrapped her arms around me and hugged my neck.

Dontae shook his head.

I rolled my eyes and picked her up. She played in my blonde curls.

"Here's her diaper bag. You do what I've done, the past two years." Avielle headed for the door.

"Avielle." I yelled but she closed the door.

I looked in the little girls eyes. She smiled brightly. I gave a weakened smile back.

"Welp guess I take everything I said back. Yo life got more drama than a Love and Hip-Hop episode. Don't want it. I'll stick with my simple childless life." Donte said walking to his room in my condo where he was staying in.

"Donte get back here." I said.

"Nope. You pay me to be your assistant. Not babysitter." He threw up the peace sign and closed the door.

I went down the hall to the room, with the little girl in my arms. I turned the knob it was locked.

"Dontae open the door."

"What?" He said like he couldn't hear me.

"Dontae you hear me."

"No I didn't. What you say again?"

"Open the door idiot."

"What's a idiot?" Dontae said on the other side.

I pushed against the door.

"Say please and I'll open it." He said.

I walked away from the door, putting the little girl down and got a knife from the kitchen.

I went back and opened the door with knife.

"Ahhhhhh." Dontae screamed in a high feminine voice.

The little girl stood behind me cracking up something serious, clapping her hands.

Dontae noticed and did it again.

She laughed even harder.

"Dontae you need to help me watch her. I have some work I need to finish up."

"That ain't my kid." He said then screamed in the same high voice to make her laugh.

She cracked up.

"So but you're her uncle."

"Half-Uncle. Me and you got different Mamas. Which means I fulfilled my half of the uncle duties when y'all did yo little chitchat. If you want me to fulfill the other half, I'mma need compensation."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "How much?"

He walked up to the little girl. "Let's see. Can you talk?" He asked her bending down to her.

She mimicked his scream and laughed.

"She a little slow, so that's gon be -uh extra fee." He told me.

He picked her up. "She a little heavy. So carrying her around gon' take a toll on my arms. So that's another extra fee."

He sniffed her neck. She laughed. "She don't smell, so I can give you a little discount there."

"Just tell me a number idiot?" I said out of frustration.

"She has a hostile parent. All in All, I'll say 5 stacks per week, plus I get to drive the maserati."

"You're fucking crazy." I said.

"Hey. Don't curse around this baby." He covered her ears.

I left out and went to look in the bag to see if Avielle left a number. I look through the bag profusely.

She wasn't going to dump her responsibility on me .

Avielle POV-

I sat on the stairs outside the door, tears filled my eyes.

Three years. I thought everything I felt for him was gone. It all started rushing back.

We had met five years ago at the Taste of Chicago. This annual food festival in downtown Chicago every summer.

I was a stylist for Ebony Magazine. Him, a student at Harvard getting his MBA. Both of us Southside Chicago kids, who regardless of our professions were Chicago asf.

It all happened fast. We happened fast. One day we meet, the next he was planning our future.

You have to understand O is a planner. He believed in structure and order. School, then career, then family. It's how he was successful in business.

Me being a stylist I thrived on freedom and lack of boundaries. I hated labels and structures and orders.

It all worked for us until I got pregnant.

Then O and his structures became my prison. He did not have babies and not take care of them. He did not have babies and no wedding. He did not have babies and no house. No picket fence, no family. It was what he did not do. So he proposed.

Spanish Vogue in Barcelona, Spain came calling for me to be there only black stylist. And I had a choice between his structure and my freedom, and I chose the latter.

Only leaving him a letter that said, I did what I had to do so you could have your structure and me my freedom. Only I lied.

Growing in my belly many miles across the sea was Oaklyn Courtney Beckham. Same initials as her father Odell Cornelius Beckham. That was the only structure I kept. The only boundary. The only order.

That was until now.

——

Talk to me y'all? What's your thoughts?

Also thanks JovanaGlamour  for the middle name babe! ❤️❤️