“It’s cold, Lo. Let’s get you in the house,” Demi said.
“Is it? I don’t feel anything,” she replied. Death was a cruel encounter, and its grip was firm around her neck. It had narrowed its glaring stare on her family, and its kiss was poisonous. That venom was spreading through her body, decaying everything. Her heart…her lungs…the pit of her stomach, all rotting from the inside out. If she touched Demi, would he start to rot too? How long could two decaying hearts continue to beat?
“When we…go in this house…and he’s…not there, Demi.” Her words tripped out of her throat as each sob interrupted her.“Demi, fix it, please. Please! I’ll never ask you for anything again just go get my baby!”
There hadn’t been a lot that Lauren had asked him for that he hadn’t delivered, and it made him feel powerless that he couldn’t deliver this miracle for her. If only he could. If the attempt was even halfway possible, he would give it his all, but life didn’t work that way. Regrets remained because time didn’t tick in reverse. If he could redo it all, he would. He would treat Lauren better and be more appreciative of the moments they had on those simple days when they were all under one roof—and their son, their creation, their sum was breathing.
“I can’t, Lo.”
“You can’t ever do the shit you’re supposed to do!” Lauren screamed, her wails carrying through the pitch-black sky as the freezing wind howled in harmony. “Where were you?!”
Her question awakened Demi’s guilt because, in the back of his mind, he knew that DJ had veered into the danger zone the moment he had moved out.
“He needed you! You’re so fucking selfish!” Lauren wailed. She rushed Demi, emotion fueling her. Her despair motivated balled fists to fly his way as she punched and pushed Demi. He was so solid she barely moved him, and Demi grabbed her hands to stop her from knocking his head off his shoulders. Her resentment and aggression were so great, and rightfully so.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he tried to subdue her.
“Let me go! This is your fault!” Demi’s eyes stormed as his vision blurred. Was she right? Was he to blame? It sure felt that way, but hearing the accusation stung. It filled him with embarrassment because what kind of father couldn’t protect his own son? Lauren fought against him until Day intervened.
“Come on, sis, not out here,” Day said, pulling her away from Demi.
“I hope you’re happy. My son is dead because of you,” Lauren accused, sobbing before giving into Day and sobbing on his shoulder. Day stared at Demi as he held Lauren tightly, and he could see his best friend’s misery. Day knew Demi. They had been friends for a long time. Demi needed the type of support he would never request, but silently, Demi was tasking Day to come to Lauren’s aid. She was in shock. Her world had been turned upside down, as had his, but Lauren was looking to place blame. She had to, to make sense of it. Someone had to be the cause, and in the crevices of her broken heart, the cause was Demi.
“Take her inside,” Demi instructed.
Day hesitated. The look in Demi’s eyes was haunting. Day had never seen hopelessness like that before. Demi had never felt it, and if he was honest, he didn’t know what to do with the grief. He didn’t have the privacy he needed to give into the loss. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t scream. He ached to hurt someone, to punish something. Instead, he stood there, lost and confused.
“I just need a minute,” Demi reassured.
Day nodded and escorted Lauren into the house. Demi walked back to the driver’s side of his car and climbed inside, turning up his heat to knock the chill from his bones. He sat in that car in silence for two hours as he waited for the light to go out in Lauren’s bedroom. The blunt he sparked was company enough as he stared at that amber glow in the window. He knew Lauren down to a science. She would go inside, shower, pull out her journal, write down her thoughts, read a passage from her Bible, pray, and then sleep. Although tonight, he doubted if sleep would come. Not for him, not for her, but he waited anyway for the bedroom light to go out. Only then could he go inside when he knew it was safe. He would wait outside forever to avoid her wrath. He didn’t need Lauren to assign the blame, he already felt it. Her judgment would only push him over the edge of a steep cliff, and he knew he wouldn’t survive the descent.
He thought about calling Charlie, but he was afraid of the probing he knew would come with dialing her number. He went to her Instagram and clicked on one of her posts. She sat in front of a camera, with no makeup, locs pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, and guitar in her hands. Demi closed his eyes as she sang to him. Pain leaked from his eyes, and he stubbornly wiped it away, trying to remove all evidence of this breakdown. Charlie sang, and Demi cried in the shadows of this dark, snowy night. In this solitude, he wished he had never met her. If he hadn’t walked into that club that night, he would have never laid eyes on her, and he would have never had a desire to love her. He would have been satisfied with his wife, and he would be inside this very home on this night, with his woman and their child. It hadn’t been a bad life. Demi had just taken it for granted. As he felt his heart cracking in two, he realized, that every small moment spent under this roof with Lauren and his son had been the biggest moments of his life. Now, they were memories. Now, those times were impossible to recapture, and suddenly, the sound of Charlie’s voice made his stomach flip.
A knocking on his window caused Demi to shape up. A click of a button turned his screen black, and he cleared his wet face with one swipe of his hand.
He opened the door and stepped out to face Day.
“She needs you in there,” Day said.
Demi nodded and bit into his bottom lip as his chin shook against his will.
“I fucked this up,” Demi hissed.
“We all fucked this up. DJ is a part of all our lives, bruh. We all could have done more…”
“I’m his father,” Demi countered.
“And you were a good one. A damn better one than either of us had,” Day said. “Don’t doubt that. Nobody did this. We just missed it, that’s all,” Day said somberly.
“How, tho’?” Demi asked. “How the fuck did I miss this?”
“I don’t know what’s needed here, but I’m right here with you. I’m gonna reach out to the funeral home. We’ll send him to the sky in style, spare no expense. I got this part. You and Lo don’t have to worry about shit. Just take care of each other,” Day promised.
“You talking about my little boy’s funeral, Day. You talking about putting my li’l man in the dirt. How this happen, bruh?” Demi asked, genuinely confused. The tears were back, sliding down the bridge of his nose. No matter how much he wanted to appear strong, they both knew he had never been more vulnerable. This was one of the most unnatural things he had ever felt.
“I don’t know, man,” Day replied. Demi turned and placed his hands on the roof of his car, balancing his weight as he lowered his head in defeat. He sobbed. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then a squeeze of support, and Demi knew he had to pull it together. He stood, clearing his throat in embarrassment, and Day said, “No tough guy shit this time. No gangster shit. No pretending like we aren’t fucked up. We just two brothers who about to go in this house and have a drink while we figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. I’m here, my nigga. You hear me?”
Demi nodded. Hecouldn’t speak, but he complied and followed Day into the house.
