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feeble."
"If so, then why can't I get past this? Why is it that it hurt worse than when we were in high school and we broke up? Why do I feel like dying? I want to die, Neema. I hate that he broke my heart. I know I did a lot of stuff in high school that broke his heart too, but he forgave me for it, because he came back. Neema, he loved me so good that I was convinced that he really did feel something for me. When we got a second chance Neema.." Her lips started quivering and she gasped out a soft cry, "Neema, he told me that he was not going to ever let me go." Neema watched as even in heart break Denise struggled against the tears that fell like a steady rain on her face. She felt her friend's heart ache. Sympathized with it. "He took everything I'd ever given him and put it in a trash bag. He took my picture and put that in there too. I ripped that butterfly necklace off and threw it in the bag, even the ring went into that bag."

Neema nodded as her friend turned into her and sobbed uncontrollably against her. She hated Jordan for what he did. Inhaling sharply, she sat on the bed next to her friend and held her close. She knew that there was no way she'd leave her alone over the next few days. She wouldn't leave her alone again until she stopped talking about suicide.

Jordan took a deep breath, sighed and went back into the solemn expression on his face. He tried to work himself to the bone in school and work, so that he wouldn't think of her; but he couldn't stop. The smell of her fragrant perfume seemed to seep into his nose at the oddest times, tantalizing his senses, giving him a serious blood flow in a region he didn't want it to. The kiss of her lips still were like a shadow on his mouth. Even the feel of her body against his was like an imprint that walked with him everyday. If that wasn't enough even when he slept, he dreamed of her. Lately he'd been dreaming of her non stop. He closed his eyes and let the pressure of the water hit his back so that it could ease the ache of his muscles. He knew that he wouldn't love anybody else for the rest of his life. He couldn't see himself getting over her any time soon. As a matter of fact, he didn't feel any more relieved about breaking up with her than before they were separated. He'd felt so compelled at the time to do it, but now that he was away from her, he wished she was there. He wished that he could take it all back, but he knew she wouldn't want to talk to him. He knew she wouldn't want anything to do with him. The way she'd cried, he was lucky she hadn't killed him yet. Turning the shower off, Jordan pushed back the shower stall and grabbed his towel off the towel rack and wiped his body of the dripping water.

After he'd dressed and was about ready for bed, a knock at the door sounded. Jordan glanced down at his watch. It was ten thirty at night, who could be here. Going up to the door, he pulled the door open. To his surprise Neema was standing there with her arms folded across her chest, "Can I talk to you ass hole?"
Jordan didn't have the spirit to fight with her. Moving aside, he allowed her entrance.
"You know, you're a world class ass hole." Neema stated furiously.
"Ok." He stated.
"I thought you were a decent guy? I thought you loved her?"
"I do." He whispered.
"So, why the hell did you break up with her? What did she do?"
He shook his head no. "Nothing. She didn't do anything."
"So why? You fucking cut my best-friend's heart into little pieces." Neema stated, her tone firm but low and also deadly.
"She will be alright."
"She will be alright? She'll be alright?" Coming up to him, Neema said, "Did you know that I found her in the kitchen about to drink a whole gallon of pinesol."
Jordan felt his heart drop and the bottom of his stomach fall, "Is she ok?"
"She didn't drink anything, but she cried and poured her heart out to me." He closed his eyes and expelled a breath. His tone shaky over the news, he inquired, "Why are you telling me this then?"
Neema glanced up at him, "Because you dumb ass, she loves you. She wants to be with you."
"And..." Jordan inquired, his eyes glossing over.
Neema cleared her throat, "You may be able to fool everybody, including Denise, but I know that you love her, Jordan. Was that fight not over her in the gym?"
Jordan's jaw locked, "What's your point?"
"So, if you fought for her, why not be with her? None of this makes since. Why the hell would you let some people you don't even know tell you that you're not good for her when you wouldn't even let your uncle tell you that?"
Jordan's face shot up. "What?"
"You heard me. Why would you let those guys intimidate you into not being with her when you knew your uncle didn't even like her but you stuck to your guns then."
"What ever, Neema, I'm not intimidated by any body."
Neema rolled her eyes, "You guys and this macho bull shit!” She spat out disgusted, “ Cut the crap Jordan. You were scared for one reason or another."
Jordan's eyes darkened, "I was not! If I was scared of those guys, why would I fight the ring leader?"
Neema glared up at him and said, "I guess if it's not the guys it has something to do with the girl. So, what's it about Denise that got you being a wimp?"
Jordan's face flushed. He felt embarrassed. "That's enough Neema," He countered, ushering her toward the door.
"What the hell?" Neema paused and turned around to him, "I thought you were different Jordan. I thought you really did love her?"
Jordan shook his head no. "She doesn't need me, Neema."
Neema crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "She needs you now more than ever Jordan. She needs you because you are the glue that hold you guys together. She's miserable without you. If you love her like you say you do, you chock up this stupid shit you're tripping over and marry the girl. It's what you set out to do in the first place. Who cares what other people say about you two being together. It's you and her who have to live your lives, not those people." Neema turned and walked away from him and out of the door.


Denise knew something was wrong, because her period was now past due two months and she felt bloating was only getting worse. Going over to the mirror that hung along her door, she glanced into it. She couldn't be pregnant, right? Her doctor told her that if she continued to take the birth control, she wouldn't get pregnant. He assured her that the birth control was a great prevention of pregnancy. Clearing her throat, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her size eight jeans were now a size ten. Her face seemed fuller than it already had been. She removed her shirt and her bra too. Her areas surrounding the nipple were large around round. Her breasts were even bigger and she was sore. She ran her hand over her stomach. Feeling the roundness underneath, her heart beat accelerated as she felt the heaviness in her stomach. She closed her eyes and leaned against the mirror. Tears were coming down her cheeks. Inhaling sharply, she knew she couldn't deny it. She was pregnant and there was nothing she could do. She knew she didn't want to raise a child by herself. As the tears cascaded down her cheeks, she felt the burn in her throat began.

Sliding down the frame of the mirror, she put her hands in her face and thought about how much she hurt. Every time she thought about having a baby that she and Jordan made together it seemed to shatter her heart all over again. She prayed that the child didn't have his eyes or his personality or any part of him. She wished that the child would in no way remind her of him because if it did, she didn't think she could handle it. If she could get rid of it, she would. Anything, so that she wouldn't be reminded. Swallowing the ache in her throat, it occurred to her that she didn't really have to have the baby if she didn't want to. The only problem she needed to worry about was the fact that she needed the money for it, but she could get that from her parents or Quinton, provided that she didn't tell them what it was for.
Chapter Thirty Seven


Chapter Thirty Six:

Denise stood at her mother's door, her body trembling. She was so scared and so nervous to ask her mother for the money. She felt the adrenaline flow through her entire body in one big rush. The door opened and she stood facing her mother. "Denise, hey, baby!" Her mother greeted, immediately pulling her into a hug. Denise wrapped her arms around her, and replied, "Hi mom. How are you doing?" The two women released each other after a moment. "I'm doing good. How about you?"
Denise shook her head, "I'm fine." Even to her own ears , Denise's tone of voice sounded flat. Mrs. Richards grasped her daughter's hands and pulled her into the house. "I see that you brought a few things to stay the weekend."
Denise cleared her throat, "If that's ok with you."
Her mother nodded, "Baby you know you're welcomed here, this is just as much your home as it is everyone else's who live here."
"Right. Speaking of everyone else, where is everybody?"
Her mother shrugged, following her daughter into the living room from the hallway. She noticed the slight widening in Denise's hips. This caused her to speculate. Bringing some questions to mind.
"Your father is at a meeting this morning and Vicki is a way at school. She'll be back around seven tonight, that's if she doesn't sleep over at Candice's."
Denise laughed, "Whoever thought that they'd last beyond high school?"
"The same could be said about you and Jordan, speaking of which, how is he by the way?"
Denise sighed forlornly and sat her luggage down by the stair case and turned to face her, "I wouldn't know."
Immediately, Mrs. Richards saw the pain appear in her daughter's eyes. "Not again, Denise."
Denise shook her head and swiped at a tear, in a tight voice, she whispered, "You'll be happy to know it wasn't me this time."
Her mother narrowed her brow, "What?"
"Yeah, he said he couldn't stand the dirty looks and sneers people were giving him when ever they saw us together. Mainly the brothers."
Mrs. Richards came over to Denise and grasped her hand in hers, "What?"
Denise gave off a sarcastic laugh, "Yep. He hated that anytime we were out there were always men staring at me. He hated knowing that they

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