Page 521 of K.I.N.: Karma Is Near

17

SAMANTHA & LEVIN

SAMANTHA

Three weeks later, I was sitting in fucking court because apparently ruining our marriage, knocking up two members of my family and getting put on child support by one of them wasn’t enough legal bullshit for Xavier.

This petty motherfucker had taken me to court over custody and parenting time too.

Custody.

As if Xavier suddenly wanted four kids full-time when this nigga didn’t even have a permanent place to bring all four of them to.

Please.

He had been bouncing around since I put him out. A hotel here. Frozo’s sometimes. I didn’t know where the fuck else and didn’t care as long as wherever my children eventually stayed was safe.

The judge had already temporarily designated me as the parent of primary residence while everything was pending, which made sense because the kids had remained in the same home with me. Same school. Same routines. Same bedrooms. Same everything.

Xay still had rights to his children.

Nobody was trying to take those away.

Despite everything between us, I didn’t want to.

I wanted my children to have their raggedy ass father.

What I didn’t want was Xavier deciding at three in the afternoon that he wanted Zion and Amari, bringing them back whenever the fuck he felt like it, showing up at my house unannounced, or believing he could dictate what happened inside my home because he was pissed off about Levin.

So if he wanted court?

Fine, we could do court.

The divorce proceeding was already underway anyway.

My lawyer had explained that because we had minor children, all the shit overlapped. Custody. Parenting time. Child support. Who carried insurance. How unreimbursed medical expenses would be split. Holidays. School breaks. Pickups. Drop-offs.

All the boring shit you never think about when you’re standing in front of somebody promising for better or worse.

Nobody tells you that sometimes worse comes with lawyers and fucking calendars.

Today was supposed to get us closer to having the temporary family arrangements nailed down while the divorce itself continued.

I sat beside my attorney staring toward the other side of the courtroom.

Xay’s lawyer was there but Xay wasn’t.

Of fucking course.

This nigga screamed about his kids for weeks, and now that we were actually standing in front of somebody who could put his time with them on paper, his ass wasn’t here.

I checked the time on my phone.

9:18.

We were supposed to be there at nine.

“He’s late,” I muttered.