Chapter
Twenty-One
SETH
It was starting to feel like me and Stormi only seen bad days. As if the good ones were myths, passed down by people who ain’t never lived a real life. But when they did come, those rare, soft days? They hit different. Like breathin' after bein' underwater too long. Them the days that keep us from fallin apart, keep us swingin’ in this fight.
They say give God your problems. Well, I been beggin’ the man upstairs all damn week. Not for me, but for her. For Stormi. She ain't just grieving, she breaking. This was the pain that didn’t make a sound but ate at you from the inside out.
“God, just give me the strength to hold her up,” I whispered under my breath. “Let me be what she needs, even if I can’t fix none of this shit.”
Jo was gone. Stormi’s new version of a mama. But it ain’t stop there. That woman was her ride or die, her best friend, her chaos twin. They were my Thelma and Louise. Sometimes laughin’ one second, cussin’ me out the next, but always together. Always loud. Always love. And now it was just Stormi and me, tryna be enough.
My arm tightened around her waist as we stepped up to the casket. Her whole body was tense. Stormi wore black like it was her war paint. Her skin still glowed like heartbreak wasn’t present, her eyes hidden behind big ass sunglasses that couldn’t even pretend to mask the pain.
“I don’t wanna do this,” she whispered, low enough only I could hear.
“I know, baby,” I said, brushing my lips against her temple. “But we are here. We gon’ get through it. You got me.”
She didn’t answer, just gripped my hand like it was the only thing tethering her to this earth and maybe it was.
The casket was white and gold, flashy as hell, exactly how Jo would've wanted it. We dropped a real bag for her sendoff. I wasn’t gonna let my wife bury her mama in some cheap ass funeral home with foldin’ chairs and dry ass pound cake. Nah, this was Jo. A woman who drank Henny at brunch and wore fur to the grocery store. She deserved a sendoff that made God raise his brow when she pulled up at the gates.
“I swear to God, if Jo was here, she’d clown the shit outta everybody cryin’,” I muttered, tryna make Stormi smile.
She choked on a laugh that turned into a sob. “She’d tell us to stop being dramatic and roll her a blunt.”
I smirked. “With the good weed. None of that mid-grade shit.”
“Duh. She had a connect,” Stormi joked, finally letting the tiniest smile crack her face. That shit hurt to see. It was beautiful and tragic all at once. Silence wrapped around us.
“You ever feel like life just keep hittin’ you?” she asked finally, voice low. “Like you standin’ still and the world just keep swingin’? I’m tired, Seth. I swear to God, I’m so tired.”
I turned her toward me, both hands on her cheeks now. “Then let me take the hits from now on.”
She stared at me, eyes glassy, lips trembling. “What if I don’t make it outta this?”
“You will,” I promised “And even if you don’t believe it, I do. I got enough belief for both of us.”
And that was the truth. She could fall apart, crumble, break all the way down. I’d be there, pickin’ up every damn piece. Stormi was my wife, my war, my peace, my punishment, my redemption. And Jo gave me this woman, this wild, loud, complicated ass, loving woman that saved me. So, I owed Jo. And I’d pay her back by never letting her baby fall. Not today and not ever.
“Mother-in-law, we lay a real one to rest today.” I stood there by the casket, words heavy as lead in my chest. “Me and the boys gon’ miss you. We sent you off nice. Just know I got your baby girl for life.”
I leaned down, pressing a kiss to Stormi's temple. I knew the weight of this moment, but I also knew she wasn’t looking for sympathy. She was looking for strength. She needed me to hold it together. I stepped back just a little, giving her space, letting her have the moment with her mama.
The room was too quiet, but my mind. That shit was loud. My eyes scanned the church, drifting over the people, catching every little detail. I was always on guard. Always alert. I didn’t trustshit. Never had. But lately death was close. Too close. I wasn’t about to bury another person, not on my watch.
I watched Noah as he stepped up to his sister. The weight of that moment hit me harder than I thought it would. I wasn’t sure if Noah had a clue how important it was for him to be there, standing next to her, showing up in a way he hadn’t before. I wanted to believe that he was turning a corner, that the man I’d been watching for the past year was evolving, but that wasn’t something you could fake.
Jo’s kids needed each other, needed them to hold each other up. Needed them to be there for one another. I didn’t give a damn if they were mad or not. The bond needed to be strong.
As Stormi squeezed Jo’s cold hand one last time, she turned to walk away. But I could see it in her, could feel it in the way she stiffened. She was trying to keep it together, but her heart was breaking, piece by piece. I reached out, grabbing her before she could get too far.
She didn’t have to say it out loud for me to know Noah’s presence was a lot for her right now. Since the first time I met him, he’d been on some bullshit. The kid had potential, but it was buried under too many excuses and too much recklessness. Over a year in, and I still didn’t see any real growth. Yeah, he thought he was a grown man, but Stormi saved him. If it were up to me, I’d have been put my foot in his ass, show him what it meant to be a man. He needed a father figure, but all I saw was a spoiled kid playing at life.
She pulled away slightly, but I grabbed her again, more gently this time. “Stormi, you don’t have to talk to him. I got you but I need you to know this shit, this moment… it ain’t about him. It’sabout you. You need to mourn. Let the rest of them figure their own shit out.”
Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue. But she didn’t. Not this time. She looked up at me, her eyes full of gratitude and pain, and nodded. That was all I needed to know. I wasn’t just here for the funeral. I was here for the aftermath. For every day Stormi needed me to carry her, to hold her up when she couldn’t do it herself. And Noah he could wait.
