“But I know now, and now that I know? They’d have to bury me under this hill before I walk away. You understand?”
She hiccupped. “For real?”
“For real. You are my baby. You always were. You always will be. You are wanted. You are loved. You are my biggest blessing and also my biggest problem, I can already tell.”
A watery giggle slipped out of her. “I’m not a problem,” she protested.
“Already arguing. Definitely my kid,” he teased.
He kissed her forehead over and over, murmuring apologies into her hair. Apologizing for things he didn’t do but was willing to carry anyway.
“I’m sorry you felt alone. I’m sorry you ever thought you did something wrong. You didn’t. Grown people did. And we gon’ fix it.”
I sat there useless, tears slipping down my face, chest so tight I could barely breathe. This was what I’d wanted once. Theway he held her, the way she melted into him, like they’d been practicing this for years. They fit. Serena brushed her fingers over my shoulder on her way out.
“I’ll give y’all a minute,” she whispered.
Zoriah stirred in the other bed. “ZiZi?” she mumbled.
“I’m okay. My daddy said he wanted me,” Aziza assured her, voice small but steadier.
Zoriah smiled in her sleep. “Okay. I knew that.”
We stayed like that for a while. Jabali rocking her, whispering to her until her tears slowed and her breathing evened out. She finally went limp in his arms, fingers still twisted in his hoodie.
“She out,” he said.
He eased her down, tucking the comforter under her chin like he’d been doing it all along. He checked on Zoriah, pulling her comforter up, then stood there between their beds for a second, just looking. His hand rubbed his jaw. His shoulders rose and fell.
“You okay?” I asked.
He laughed once, but it held no humor. “No. But she will be. That’s the part that matters.”
He reached over and turned off the lamp. The nightlight in the corner threw soft stars around the room. He bent and kissed both girls again, one on each forehead.
“Goodnight, little mamas,” he whispered.
We slipped out into the hallway, closing the door as quietly as possible. The second it clicked shut, the weight of everything hit me fully. I leaned back against the wall, pressing my palms into my eyes.
“You did good,” he said.
“I did terrible. She thought you didn’t want her. She carried that. That’s what I did,” I answered. My voice came out teary.
He shook his head. “Don’t do that. It won’t help anything. Get some sleep,” he added. “You look done.”
“I am,” I admitted.
We split off to our rooms. I showered on autopilot, changed into a satin camisole and shorts. My brain replayed that question over and over.Does that mean Daddy didn’t want me?That hurt still, despite Jabali’s attempts to soothe it. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at my door. Two quick taps, like always. I knew who it was before he spoke.
“Ky. We need to talk,” he said.
Of course, we did. The grown-people mess had finally caught up.
“Come in,” I invited.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He’d changed into a black T-shirt and sweats. Socked feet. The sight made my stomach flip for reasons that had nothing to do with our daughter. Those gray sweats were dangerous.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
