On the 12th day of Christmas My Baby Daddy Gave to Me: 12 Missed Child Support Payments

Marie

On the first day of Christmas, I was holding receipts.

On the twelfth, I was still twelve payments deep in disappointment.

Saint left me with a baby and a busted heart. Showed up a year later with excuses and a face that still made my thighs twitch. Now he’s talking about being a daddy, paying bills, and “fixing things.”

Too bad I’m not the girl who forgives.

I’m the woman who makes you earn your way back with sweat, shame, and surrender.

He wants a second chance?

He can beg for it with his mouth full.

Saint

I messed up.

She knows it.

Hell, the whole block probably knows it.

But when I saw Marie again, all that pride I thought I had? Gone. Nothing mattered but making her see I’m not that same boy who ran.

I want back in.

Her life.

Her body.

Her bed.

Even if I have to crawl.

Even if she makes me pay for every minute I was gone.

Because she’s not just the mother of my kid.

She’s the fire I never stopped burning for.

And I’ll take every hit she throws just to earn her trust again.