“What my dad is trying to say is that things could have gone a different way, and we would have to explain to Promise why her mother was never coming back. Dreaux has been in the streets for years, and he knows how to handle himself. Even if he were in danger, he wouldn’t have wanted you there. It’s one of the reasons he keeps those two parts of his life separate.”
“I know. I guess I was trying to help because he’s been saving me since I moved back home. It was a stupid decision on my part, but I don’t regret saving him. They would have killed him.” My voice cracked at the realization of how close to death we were.
Truth wrapped his arms around me, and I broke down for the first time since the shooting. He held me as I released all of my emotions. It felt like my body was having a delayed reaction, and reality had finally settled in. By the time he let me go, the older gentleman walked into the kitchen with two women who resembled him. They were both dressed in scrubs, so I assumed they worked in the medical field.
I noticed the blood stains on one of the women’s scrubs and almost lost my cool. Truth squeezed my hand to give me reassurance, but the only reassurance I needed was my man to be okay.
The somber expressions on their faces only increased my anxiety as I waited for them to give us the news.
“We were able to remove the bullet, but he lost a lot of blood. He coded on the table, and we did everything we could to save him, but?—”
I tried to hold it together, but my body grew weak while she spoke. I couldn’t even process her words before my eyes rolled to the back of my head, and everything faded to black.
epilogue
. . .
peace graham
six months later
There wassomething about death that was so final. There was this realization that they were never coming back, no matter how much time passed. Forever seemed like such an unfair measurement in time.
I told myself I would come out to the cemetery once I felt strong enough to face him, but as I got closer to his tombstone, I could feel myself breaking down. No amount of time would ever fill the void he left in my heart, but I tried to find solace in the fact that he wasn’t suffering.
When I got to his stone, I laid out a blanket and placed my flowers among the other arrangements. I could tell someone else had visited him recently because the flowers were still fresh. My fingers traced the words on his tombstone, lingering on one word in particular—Father. My hands rubbed across my protruding belly as I thought about everything he would missout on. I wondered if he could see me from Heaven and if he was proud of me.
I thought about bringing Promise, but I wanted to have this time to myself. I needed to talk to him and tell him about everything new going on in our lives. The wind blew a cool breeze in my direction, and I took it as a sign that he knew I was there.
“I thought about what I would say. I’m usually pretty good with my words, but this situation is different. There are so many things I want to tell you and so many questions I wish I had asked. Everyone says you’re watching over me, but it doesn’t give me as much comfort as I need it to.”
“I feel so cheated, and I can’t do anything about it.” I wiped my eyes as the tears fell. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about death was fair, and it upset me even more because I had nowhere to place my anger and frustrations outside of words.
I started seeing Yaya’s therapist, Dr. Reese, who suggested I write down my feelings in a journal. She told me not to hold back and to let it all out on paper. It helped for a while, but I was still so angry. She explained the grief process to me and told me it was completely normal since I was still in the beginning stages.
At first, I thought I was handling it well, but once life began to calm down, I realized I wasn’t actually dealing with my grief. I swept it under the rug and tried to keep myself busy in order to take my mind off it. It took a while to realize I wasn’t healing, I was avoiding.
I sat next to him and filled him in on all the changes in my life. Promise seemed to be growing bigger and bigger by the day, and I couldn’t deal. She officially started school, and she loved it. Every day she would come home with something new she learned in class, and it made me so proud. Her teachers loved her as much as everyone else, so she got away with murder there as well. I used to worry about her growing up alone, but betweenall of her cousins and classmates, she was set for life. We attended at least one birthday party each of the last four months, and she brought home two more invitations the other day.
My relationship with my siblings grew stronger over time. Messiah was damn near a secondary parent because Promise spent so much time with his children, Cherish and Deuce. They were all glued to the hip, and it warmed my heart. Messiah called me daily to check on me and make sure I had everything I needed. Rule wasn’t much of a phone person, but he checked on me as well.
Charity, Serenity, and Honesty called me on video chat every Friday, and I looked forward to it. We mainly checked in and talked about what was going on in our lives. Honesty was having boy problems, which included Yaya’s little brother, Solomon, so we were trying to help her navigate them. Young love was so pure yet complex. A part of me wishes I could go back in time with the knowledge I have now. I would have done things so differently.
When I began to yawn, I knew it was time for me to head out. I took a nap earlier and there were still things I needed to do. Since I stopped working at Davis Apartments, I have spent most of my time cooking, cleaning, and sleeping. I thought I would get bored with being home all of the time, but I actually enjoyed it. My bills were set, and it gave me time to get ready for this new baby.
I still couldn’t believe I was having a little boy. When I first found out, I cried my eyes out. It wasn’t that I regretted my child, but I worried about whether I was ready to have another baby. After I gave birth to Promise, I was adamant about not bringing another child into the world, but life had a way of shifting. I wanted my children to have the kind of life I always dreamed of, and there were times when I felt like I was in over my head.
The pregnancy had gone smoothly, all things considered. Baby boy was growing big and strong, causing my appetite to skyrocket. Granny Lula was probably tired of me calling her phone, crying because I was craving something I didn’t know how to make. Just last week, she had Loyal bring me over a bowl of chicken and dumplings. I should have been ashamed of how I demolished my food, but it was so good. She taught me how to make gumbo, seafood dressing, and stuffed catfish, and I felt like a top chef. I loved sitting in her kitchen because she would feed me and speak life into me at the same time.
I attempted to get up, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Before I could work myself up too much, I felt a pair of hands pulling me up from behind.
“I told your hard-headed ass to bring a folding chair or something. You know your ass can’t get back up,” he huffed. I rolled my eyes because he was right.
“Are you calling me fat?”
“You aren’t gonna trick me with that shit again. You’re beautiful, but your stomach is too wide for you to get on the ground. I just pulled your ass out of the tub last night,” Dreaux fussed. He had been waiting on me hand and foot for most of my pregnancy. It was a bit of a challenge in the beginning because he was recovering from being shot. We took turns taking care of each other, but luckily, our families were a big help.
The day of the shooting, I passed out from dehydration and stress. It was then that we found out I was pregnant. Dreaux thanked me repeatedly for saving him, but he also cussed me out for being there in the first place. I tried to put the incident out of my mind, but at times the memories haunted me. Dreaux gave me all of the support I needed and reminded me that I would always be safe with him.
