“We could have made that shit easier for him. You could have helped me make the transition easier! He was my boy, my blood, Lo. That shit is forever! You ain’t tell him about the weekends you said I couldn’t pull up. You ain’t tell him about the times you blocked me from calling his phone. You ain’t want him around Charlie, so you kept him from me.”
“Say that bitch name again and watch me go the fuck off,” Lauren threatened.
“Yo, Dem,” Day stated, scratching his temple and wincing as he watched the start of World War III commence.
“Mind your business, Day,” Lauren warned. “I don’t need rescuing.”
Day lifted his hands in offense as the funeral director looked at him in dismay.
“That’s your fucking problem. You put your hurt feelings in front of my son’s well-being. Tryna punish me made my son think I didn’t want him.”
Lauren was astonished. Tears flowed everywhere. Snot too. “How is this my fault? You cheated, Demi!”
“I cheated! I lied! I left. YOUUUUU! I did all that shit to you! I ain’t never not wanted him. You played tug of war, and I let you because I knew you needed him more than me for a little while. I wasn’t looking to pick no fights with you, so I let you have some shit. I never abandoned my fucking son. Now I got to live knowing he thought that shit. If you were anybody else, you’d be under my trigger for that shit.”
“Just fucking leave, Demi. That’s what you do best,” Lauren spat.
So much animosity in one room. One parent versus the other, both spewing pain and looking for someone to blame.
“Make sure she gets back to the house for me, bro.”
“I got her,” Day replied.
Charlie lay on the couch, curled under a blanket, stomach in knots, remote control in hand. She changed the channels out of habit, not interest, as her thoughts ran rampant. The nausea was exceptionally bad today, and she didn’t know if it wasbecause of the baby or if it was because of the circumstances. The sound of the house alarm deactivating drew her attention to the door. She stood and nervously waited for Demi to come into view. His presence was so gigantic. Theenormity of his energy was exciting but also intimidating. Demi was just the type of nigga that made people pay attention. Women wanted to fuck him. Men wanted to be in his position. He was a dominant-ass man, even now, in his weakest state. As soon as he spotted her, his feet sped up until he was wrapping his arms around her, pulling her entire body into his. His hand fisted a handful of her golden locs as his cold nose defrosted in the crook of her neck.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to be the same after this, Bird,” he said.
Charlie pulled back to look him in the eyes. She placed her hands on the sides of his face. She was so full of caring and affection. So potent with love that it poured from her touch. “You don’t have to be. Nobody expects that.”
“She said I abandoned him. I loved my son, Bird. On me, I did,” he said, breathing in a heavy breath and then holding it as his eyes swelled with anguish.
“I know you did, Demi. Lauren knows you did. She doesn’t mean that,” Charlie whispered. Demi turned away from her and slammed his fists on the kitchen island.
“Fuck!” he shouted as he swept the dish rack off the counter. Glass shattered as it hit the floor. Charlie was shaken, and she jumped, yelping in shock. He leaned into the counter, fists still balled, head bowed. He doubled over as agony tore through his body.
Her hand on his back was like magic. She felt the tension in his muscles ease. He turned to her. “I don’t deserve shit like this.”
“Like what?” she asked, confused.
“Like you.”
His words struck a sour chord with Charlie. The world saw the harshness in this Black man, but Charlie saw the protector, the lover, the friend. She saw the father he had been. The one who lit up with pride when describing a story that involved his son and the one who ached for his son’s presence during the aftermath of a tumultuous divorce. She noticed how he tried to overcompensate with DJ whenever he was around, just to make up for the fact that he was no longer in their home. Demi carried guilt about that while DJ was living, so she knew he held even more now. He wasn’t the unforgiving CEO at home. He wasn’t the unyielding boss or the iron-fisted reformed gangster. He softened with those he loved. He would do anything for them, for her. Reciprocity was easy with Demi because he cared for her with 100% effort. Her wants were supplied before she could even ask, and her needs, they didn’t even speak of because that was second nature to him.
“Oh, but you do, Demi. You really do, baby,” she said.
“I’ma need to go back to the house for a while, Bird. Lauren ain’t in a good way at all. She can’t be by herself,” he stated.
Charlie felt an instant conflict in her spirit. Her knee-jerk reaction was to catch an attitude because why the fuck did her fiancé need to go be with another woman? She understood their loss, but why did her man have to be the shoulder Lo cried on? She held back, however, and softened her approach because she already knew that Demi was on edge. She grabbed the broom from the cleaning closet and began to sweep the mess off the floor.
“What about her family? Her mom? They can’t stay with her?” Charlie asked.
“If I thought she would let them, I would make sure it happened, but she won’t. This is something I need to do,” he responded. “I owe her this. I owe my son this. It’s my responsibility to be present while we bury DJ. I can’t leaveit on her shoulders. I can’t pop in and out. The family, the arrangements, the breakdowns. If she hurts herself and I could have been there to stop it…”
“Hurts herself?” Charlie repeated. “You think she would do that?”
“I don’t know what to think. I’ve never seen her like this before. I just know she’s not okay,” Demi responded. Charlie could see the weight on him. To be responsible for your own healing was one thing, but to be tethered to another and be accountable for theirs was a different type of pressure.
