I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her there, jaw pressed into her shoulder. Just me tryna hold together what felt like it was startin' to crack Inside us. "Stop pushin' me away," I whispered into her neck, more to myself than her. "I'm right here." My voice damn near broke sayin' it.
It hit me.
There was no limit to my love for her. None. Not a single one. I could feel that truth sittin' heavy in my chest, full of fire and fear and a devotion that felt almost violent. Because I wasn't just lovin' her. I was needing her.
More than breath.
More than sleep.
More than peace.
She was all I had left entwining ' me to this world.
Ayida
I sat with my feet tucked under me, palms wrapped around the stem of my glass, watching the fire lick and dance in the pit in front of us. The flames cracked and popped low, sending sparks up into the Houston night, orange embers dissolving into dark sky. The air smelled like woodsmoke and wine and something sweet Chiana had burned earlier like a strawberry candle. Or maybe it was just her spirit. We were in Houston, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood where the houses sat far enough apart to mind their business. Chiana had found the Airbnb weeks ago, said it felt right. I didn't question it.
Tomorrow morning I had an appointment with the gynecologist Chiana had been talking about for months now. A fertility specialist. A woman she swore by. A woman who "didn't dismiss spirit just because she wore a white coat." I wanted to believe that. I needed to believe that. The fire cracked louder and I flinched slightly, my thoughts running too far ahead of me again. I pulled my knees closer to my chest and took a slow sip of my drink, letting the warmth settle in my belly.
Laughter floated behind me. Amina was inside arguing with the Bluetooth speaker, insisting the playlist wasn’t right, while Nia sat on the outdoor couch, blanket draped over her shoulders, staring into the fire like she was reading messages in the flames. Chiana moved between us all, barefoot, glass in hand, the unofficial glue that I felt held us together.
My phone rang. I smiled before I even looked at the screen. Noles.I stepped slightly away from the fire pit before answering. "I miss you," his voice came through immediately,low and familiar, like he'd been holding it in. I giggled, shaking my head. Of course he did. "I've been in Houston for four hours max," I smiled, leaning against the railing. "You act like I moved." I could hear chaos in the background, kids yelling, something crashing, Juste's voice raised but not mad. "You at Chiana's?" I asked. "This my brother house," he said quick, defensive like always. "Yeah, he lettin' his damn kids terrorize me."
"They not that bad," I said softly. "Shittin' me," he muttered. Then quieter, softer, "I just wanted to call and hear ya voice though. Do ya thing. Love you."
"I love you," I replied before he could hang up. The line went dead, but his energy lingered, wrapping around me like a shawl. I stared at my phone for a second longer than necessary before lowering it. "Tell Noles quit callin'," Amina said, stepping outside with a bottle and refilling glasses like a fairy godmother. "We not gon' take you away forever."
"Surely he keep a short leash on that ass," Nia giggled, finally looking up from the fire. I laughed, but it felt thin. I returned to my seat, settling back into the circle of women. The firelight painted their faces gold and shadowed, familiar and safe. This was my favorite version of us, no men, no expectations, no pretending.
Chiana dropped into the chair beside me, her knee brushing mine, her whole body exhaling like she'd been holding her breath for months. "I'm so happy to be away from those kids and that man," she said, lifting her glass. "I love them, but damn." The way she said it made all of us burst out laughing. Real laughter. The kind that loosened something tight in my chest.
The night wrapped around us slow and easy. Wine glasses clinked. The fire crackled. Somebody's playlist floated through the Airbnb speakers. It was old R&B, soft enough to talk over, loud enough to hum along to without realizing it. We drank. We laughed. We talked over each other. By the fourth bottle, we were all crying, full-blown tears, over a story Chiana was telling about Evie losing her mind after the twins came home from the hospital. "And she was crying, talmbout 'they both look at me at the same time like they know I'm they favorite person,'" Chiana said, wiping her eyes. "I said, girl sure they do." That sent us over the edge again.
Even I laughed until my cheeks hurt. For a moment, I forgot about what we were here for. Forgot about doctors, about wombs and curses and bloodlines and men who left destruction in their wake. I forgot about everything except these women. Then Amina popped open another bottle, the cork echoing too loud in the quiet space that followed our laughter. "On a serious note," she said, pouring, her voice softer now. "How everybody been? For real. We don't get nights like this no more." The shift was subtle, but I felt it. The fire popped. Shadows stretched longer across the walls.
Chiana took a sip, staring into her glass. "Not gon' lie, I never pictured my life like this," she said. "But I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't give it up. I love that man, and that man love him some me." She blushed, smiling to herself. "You and Juste make it look good," I said honestly. "I can't even lie." She shrugged. "It ain't perfect. But it's ours." I nodded.
That's when I noticed Nia hadn't said a word. She'd been quiet all night, sitting slightly away from the circle, her glass untouched now, her body angled like she was already half gone.I'd clocked it earlier, felt it even, but I didn't want to name it. Didn't want to disturb whatever fragile thing was holding the night together. I took a sip out of my glass, glanced at her again. Her shoulders were shaking. "Nia?" I said gently. "You okay?" She wiped her face fast, like she could undo it if she moved quick enough. But it was too late. Amina saw it. Chiana saw it. We all did.
"You been hidin' somethin' for weeks now," Amina said, her words slurring just a little. "What's goin' on, Nia? I'm not askin' no more." Something in Nia broke. She folded in on herself and broke down sobbing. It was a deep, gut-wrenching cry that didn't care who heard it. We rushed to her, wine glasses abandoned, wrapping arms around her, pressing her into us while she struggled to breathe. "I fucked up, y'all," she gasped. "I fucked up so bad." My heart dropped into my stomach.
"Juliana..." she choked. "Juliana is Nash's baby." The words didn't land right at first. They hovered. Then they shattered. Everything clicked at once. her distance, the tension in her eyes, the way Jules' jaw tightened every time Nash's name came up. The way the room shifted at the donor event. The way my spirit recoiled before my mind could catch up. "Oh my God," Chiana whispered.
"I can't believe this shit is happenin' to me," Nia wailed, burying her face in her hands. "I can't believe I did this." We didn't speak. We just held her tighter. "Nash been fuckin' with Jules," she continued, gagging like she might throw up. "Sent papers in the mail requestin' a DNA test. Jules found them." Amina cursed under her breath. "Jules told me he didn't wanna hear shit else about it," Nia said. "Said if he did, it wasn't gon' be good." Her voice cracked. "And then," she swallowed hard. "That nigga recorded us fuckin' when we messed around duringthat time period. How bout he Sent it to my husband after we didn't respond to his paternity request." Silence slammed into the room. I felt my ancestors stir behind me, uneasy. "My world is upside down," she whispered. "Every day I wake up prayin' this ain't real."
"Oh nah," Amina said, standing up, staggering. "We need to ride on his bitch ass." She propped her had on her hip. "Where Jules at in all this?" she demanded. Nia lifted her head, eyes red and hollow. "That's the thing. Jules said fuck that DNA test. Said she his baby and that was that. Told me straight up we better leave well enough alone. I knew that meant shit was bound to get ugly." My chest tightened. "But I didn't listen," Nia admitted. "Curiosity killed the mutha fuckin cat. I’m so fuckin stupid, I did a home test. Used his toothbrush." The room spun. "I got the results back two weeks ago."
"Two weeks Nia ???" Amina said. Chiana pressed a hand to her mouth. "This shit not gon' end good."
"Nash won't stop," Nia said. "It's like he gettin' off on fuckin' with Jules. Like he got a point to prove." She stared into nothing. "Peace don't last long in my life," she whispered.
"Maybe the test wrong," Amina said, desperate now. "I keep sayin' the same thing," Nia replied. I felt sick for her. Not the sick that lives in your stomach. The kind that settles in your bones and won't leave. The kind you carry quietly because screaming wouldn't change a damn thing. Nia's tears clung to me like humidity. They followed me into sleep. Followed me into my dreams. Followed me into the next morning like a shadow that refused to be outrun.
I woke before the sun, staring at the ceiling fan spinning slow above my head. Chiana was still asleep in the other room,her soft breathing muffled through the wall. The house felt heavy, but not unsafe. Just full. Like the walls were holding everything we'd poured into the night before. I slipped out of bed and stood barefoot on the cold floor, pressing my palms together.
Ancestors, I whispered in my mind.If you gon' show me things, teach me how to carry them.The mirror in the bathroom caught my reflection puffy eyes, lips pressed tight, hair wild over my head. I looked like a woman holding something fragile inside her chest. Something that could shatter if handled wrong.And I was.
?
