“I look at her, and I’m mad. But I also… I still want her. I still care how she breathing, if she eating, if she sleeping. I still remember every stupid thing she used to say, every look she used to give me. Ten years gone, and I still can’t stand anybody talking crazy about her. That ain’t normal,” I admitted.
He smiled, just a little. “Love rarely is,” he said.
I grimaced. “Don’t start,” I warned.
“I been started,” he said. “You just catching up. So, here’s another question for you, since you like being interrogated so much. Is there any part of you that can see y’all as a unit? Not just co-parents doing drop-offs in parking lots. I mean a family. Household. Holidays, school visits, PTA meetings, her mad at you ’cause you bought the wrong cereal. Is that even in your mind as an option?”
The image hit me so hard I had to close my eyes for a second. Kyleigh in my kitchen. Aziza at the table doing homework. Me coming in from work, hearing both of them talk noise about how I couldn’t load a dishwasher right. Kyleigh round with another baby, and this time, I’d be there for everything.
I wanted it. Badly enough that it scared me.
“I don’t know if she would ever want that. But yeah. I’ve thought about it. I’ve wanted it since we were kids, honestly. Before I even knew her name could be on a birth certificate with mine.”
He took that in, nodding slowly, like pieces were clicking into place. “Then you got a conflict of interests. You can’t be trying to marry a woman and bury her at the same time,” he said.
“I ain’t said nothing about marrying—” I started.
He raised his eyebrows. I shut up.
“You can go scorched earth,” he said. “You can let Zahara file every motion in the book, drag Kyleigh to court, win every inch on paper. But you need to understand something: legal victory don’t equal emotional peace. You might ‘win’ and still lose your chance at anything healthy with her. And Aziza? She’ll feel every bit of that tension, even if y’all never say a word in front of her.”
He paused, then added, “Or you can still fight for what’s rightfully yours—time, decision-making, your name on that line—but do it in a way that leaves the door open for something better. That means you temper some of that anger when you dealing with Kyleigh directly. You let your sister be the bulldog on paper while you try to build trust in person.”
I frowned. “That feel like playing both sides.”
“Thatisplaying both sides. You gotta protect your rights and protect your child’s heart. Sometimes that means you swallow your pride when you’d rather swing.”
I thought about the tree lot. The way Aziza had looked between us. The way Kyleigh had looked at her, loved on her, held on to her.
“She’s scared,” I admitted. “Like… really scared. Not just ‘I don’t like Christmas’ scared. She looking like one wrong move, and I’m coming to take her whole life.”
“Youdidbreak into her bedroom,” he pointed out again.
I shrugged. That was light work. “I’m saying, under all the ice, she’s shaking. And I don’t like that. Even when I’m mad, I don’t want her afraid of me. That ain’t what I ever wanted to be for her.”
“So, move in a way that lines up with what you want to be,” he said. “Not just what your anger want to be in the moment.”
I stared at him, jaw tight.
“You and Kyleigh got a lot of healing to do,” he went on. “Separately and together. But that little girl? She only got one childhood. Me and your mama already decided we not wasting another year of it being mad about the first nine. We gon’ be ready when you bring her. House stocked, arms open. That’s our role. You gotta figure out yours.”
I swallowed hard. “You excited?” I asked, because I needed to hear it.
He exhaled, looking out at the yard. When he looked back at me, his eyes were shining a little more than usual.
“Terrified,” he said. “Excited. Grateful. Your mama already bought three outfits and two dolls ‘just in case.’ She keep asking me if she should practice her ‘Hi, I’m your grandmother’ speech in the mirror. We hate we missed nine years. That’s a sting that’ll never fully go away. But we decided that when we finally see her? We not bringing that to her. We bringing joy. We gonna let her set the pace. Let her see we not a storm she gotta weather.”
My throat got tight. I nodded, fast.
“So,” he said, voice gentler. “What’s it gon’ be, Jay? You gon’ let anger drive this car, or you gon’ use it as fuel and still steer?”
I thought about Aziza’s face under them lot lights. The way she’d whispered,This our tree. The way Kyleigh’s hands had shaken just a little when she’d finally said,For real. We’ll make it work.
“I’m not letting her off the hook,” I said finally. “I’m not pretending like what she did was small. I’m not rolling over.”
“I wouldn’t respect you if you did,” he said.
“But I also don’t want to destroy something we might could build later,” I added. “I want leverage, not damage.”
