I continued to stare at him. Holding my son a little tighter, needing his warmth for the comfort I needed to get through this conversation.
“Is that the baby?” He asked walking closer. I pulled Shiloh even closer hiding his face from who would’ve been his grandfather but the man responsible for half the childhood pain I had to heal from.
“I heard what happened,” he said, stepping back. “I just I had to come see for myself. Make sure you were okay.”
I blinked slowly, still quiet, still unsure if this was real life or some twisted ass dream.
“Why now? It’s been thirty-one years, and you have never just come to make sure I was, ok? So, I ask why now my voice shaky and a little weak.
“Things have been complicated?” He said and I could tell the lie before it left his mouth.
“Uncomplicate them” I said clearly, my attitude visible. I was willing to hear his version, but it was nothing he could say to explain anything. It was clear he was years older than Jo now, so he was years older than her when she was 16 and pregnant by him.
“Jo not innocent in none of this. She was fast.”
“She was a child!” I screamed out no longer able to handle my composure.
“Nothing didn’t happen that she didn’t want to happen.”
“You sick motherfucker,” I said, looking at the man, I now knew as my father like the monster he had been to my mother.
“Listen, I know it ain’t nothing I can say,” Leon started, his voice low, almost broken. “Jo already told you her side, and you made your mind up about me. I just—” He swallowed hard, eyes heavy with regret. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Stormi. And I’m glad you okay. But I need you to talk to Seth. Dre is my sister’s only child. If something happens to him, she wouldn’t survive it.”
“She wouldn’t survive it?” I repeated, my voice sharp, disbelief dripping from every word. My eyes cut into him like the stranger he had always been. “Leon, I was eight months pregnant when the boy you begging me to protect shot me. Three times. Three.” My hand tightened around my son, rage and memory colliding. “I almost died. My son almost died. And you want me to give a fuck about somebody who ain’t give a fuck about me or my baby?” My voice cracked but my anger carried it, burning hotter.
“I’m not saying what Dre did was right,” Leon said, stepping closer, palms out like peace could even fit in this room. “But let me handle him, Stormi. Please.”
I laughed. Bitter. “You know, as a little girl, I used to dream about my dad swooping in, handling my battles, making me feel safe like a father should.” My eyes locked on him, cutting deep. “But Leon, this is one fight I don’t need you for. You know why?” My chin lifted with pride. “Because my husband got it. And trust me, he doesn’t miss. So no, I won’t spare Dre. Matter fact, I hope your sister has life insurance on him but knowing Seth… she won’t even get a body to bury.”
“Stormi, you don’t want to become that person.” He tried to move closer, voice trembling now, as if he still had the right to guide me.
I glared, my voice sharp enough to draw blood. “When it comes to my son and my life… I am that person already. So, get the fuck out before you find yourself hiding from Seth the same way Dre is.”
“Stormi.”
“Send my auntie my condolences for her future loss.” My tone was ice, final.
And that’s when he saw the steel in my eyes, the cold fire he couldn’t put out. There was nothing left to argue, nothing left to beg. Leon did the only thing he could to save his life. He backed away… and left my hospital room. A single tear fell down my face, and I quickly wiped it away. That was the last time I would cry about the childhood that could no longer break me.
I smelled his Crestwood cologne before I felt the warmth of his lips on my forehead. That’s how I knew he was back. My body always recognized him before my mind could catch up. My heart knew him like it knew how to beat.
I opened my eyes and there he was my husband. My peace and my chaos wrapped in the same man. Yeah, I had become that woman.My man, my man, my man.And I didn’t care who rolled their eyes about it. I loved every second of being his. Funny thing was, I spent months trying not to be his… even when I already was.
He kissed my cheek slow, like he was checking to make sure I was still real. Like if he blinked too long, I’d disappear.
“Tired?” he asked, voice low, soft but with that edge only I could hear. His eyes met mine, and for a second, it was like all the broken pieces in me found their way back together.
“A little,” I said, shifting up on the pillows.
He didn’t wait. Just slid into the bed behind me like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into him until I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back.
I should’ve been focused on healing. But the second he touched me like that; all I could think about was feeling him inside me.
“You, okay?” he asked, trying to sound calm. But I knew him too well. He was fuming under all that stillness. He wanted to know why the hell Leon had shown his face.
I forced myself to focus. To pull my mind out the gutter.
“I’m okay,” I said quietly. And it was the truth. I could walk past Leon a thousand times and not feel a thing. Whatever I needed from him, I stopped needing a long time ago.
