Geney Ford let out a long, heavy breath, her chest rising and falling as the rigid tension in her shoulders slowly eased. She looked at Malcolm, her eyes lingering on his pale face, thoroughly convinced by his calm tone.
"When you talk to that spoiled brat again," Geney said sharply, adjusting her handbag over her forearm, "tell him he needs to find himself a single, respectable man and settle down once and for all. Tell him to stop going around fucking with everyone in the city like he has no pride. And make sure he knows I want to see him the second you talk to him."
She took a step toward the doorway, then paused, turning back to glare at the two men locked together on the sofa. Her expression softened just a fraction as her eyes landed on her eldest son. "Take good care of yourself, Malcolm. And do not allow this monster to exhaust you while you are carrying. It is not an easy thing for a man to carry a pregnancy for the first time."
