“I ain’t throwin’ shit. I’m handin’ it to you.Respectfully.”
She pushed his chest. “Stop bein’ smooth.”
“Stop bein’ stubborn,” he shot back.
“I’m not stubborn.”
“You are.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Too bad.”
“You don’t just get to decide-”
“I do,” he said, stepping closer. “When it comes to makin’ sure you not out here stressin’ over a goddamn water bill? Iabsolutely do.” His voice rose because sometimes Meadow was exhausting.
Meadow shook her head, curls bouncing. “Zaire. No, I don’t take handouts.”
“Ain’t a handout. It’s just a fuckin’ hand... Gotdamn, Meadow!” His hands rested on his head while he stared at her like she had two heads.
“Same thing…and don’t yell at me.”
“No, it ain’t.”
“How?”
“‘Cause I’m standin’ right here with you.” He held her gaze steady. “I ain’t leavin’ you with the weight. I’m liftin’ with you. That’s a partnership, not a charity.”
Meadow swallowed. “Partnership?”
“Yeah,” he said without flinching because he said what he meant. If this was falling, Zaire was doing it headfirst.
Her lips parted, words tangled somewhere between pride, and relief, and fear she didn’t want to name. She looked at the card again. Black and heavy and unreal. “Zaire… I can’t take this.”
“Yes you can.” He stepped even closer, lowering his forehead toward hers. “You will.”
Meadow savored him. His head pressed against hers, breathing the same little pocket of air, as if refusing to let her float off into doubt.
Her fingers shook around the card…not from the money…not even from the gesture. It was the weight of being cared for out loud. She wasn’t used to a man seeing her struggle and stepping in without making her feel small. Nobody ever told her she deserved ease. She was the daughter who held everything together, the woman who figured it out, the girl who never asked for help because help never came.
But Zaire came in with his own world he carried but still found the strength to ask to carry hers too, and he didn’t ask for permission to show up for her.
He held her there, steadied her there, let her breathe against him, sharing his oxygen when he barely had enough for himself. “Stop carrying shit alone,” he whispered, voice thick enough to break open the part of her she always kept padlocked. “You mine. Let me hold you too.”
Meadow closed her eyes, chest tightening, the truth hitting her all at once?—
This wasn’t about a card.
He was giving her room to rest…to want more...to be chosen without conditions, and it scared her almost as much as it healed her.
“This ain’t about money,” he continued. “This about you finally lettin’ somebody give a fuck about you the way you give a fuck about everybody else in this house. Let me in, Meadow.”
Her eyes softened…the smallest crack.
He slid the card slowly into her hand, curling her fingers around it. “Let me help you breathe, baby.”
Meadow’s eyes fluttered shut for a second.
