"I love you," he added before hanging up. The line went dead. Silence settled over the room again, heavy and final. I exhaled slowly, pressing my palms together, fingers trembling.
The ride home felt longer than it was. Not because of distance, but because every mile carried the weight of what had been said out loud. What had been torn open. What had been seen.You asked for sight,I thought bitterly, my forehead pressed to the cool window.This what sight look like.
Streetlights blurred past in streaks of gold and white. My breath came shallow. Uneven. I kept swallowing like I was trying to push something down that refused to stay buried. I knew, deep down, that no matter how much I loved him, no matter how much he loved me, something had shifted tonight. Not broken. But revealed. And revelation was never gentle. Revelation stripped you naked and dared you to keep standing.
I wrapped my arms around myself, nails digging into my sleeves. When we pulled up to the house, my heart sank straight into my stomach. He was sitting on the porch. Liquor bottle hanging loose in his hand. Elbows resting on his knees. Head bowed, in his thoughts. The porch light cast a soft glow over him, catching the tension in his shoulders, the tight line of his jaw. The car rolled to a stop. I didn't move.
Chiana turned and looked at me. Her eyes were gentle but firm. She nodded once and reached over to squeeze my hand. Before I could gather myself, Noles stood up. He swayedslightly, caught his balance, and walked toward the car with that heavy, deliberate gait I knew too well. It came when his mind was somewhere dark. "Thank you, Chi," he said, voice rough. "I preciate you, sis." The quiet that followed was deafening. I opened the door and stepped out, my legs trembling beneath me. I walked past him without looking, straight into the house, like if I stopped moving I might collapse.
"Yi," he called after me but I kept walking. My heels clicked against the floor, too loud in the silence. I made it to the kitchen counter and set my purse down with shaking hands. My chest felt tight. Then his hand closed around my arm. He turned me toward him. "Ayida," he said. "Stop. Talk to me."
His eyes were red not from the liquor, but from something deeper. Something cracked open. He searched my face like he was looking for blood, for breath, for proof I was still here. I broke. "What else is there to say?" I whispered, my voice already fracturing. "What you want me to say?" Tears welled up fast, blurring my vision. My throat burned. The words I'd swallowed my whole life came rushing up all at once. "I can't have kids," I choked. "I'll never be able to give you babies because I was cursed over some shit my mama and daddy did." There it was. Ugly. Naked. Out loud.
My knees buckled slightly, and I braced myself against the counter. My chest heaved like I'd been running for miles. "I tried to protect you from it," I sobbed. "I tried to protect us. I tried to outrun it. Pray it away. Bathe it away. Hide it away. But it followed me. It always follow me." He stepped closer, but before he could speak, I kept going because if I stopped, I might drown in it. "I love you so much my soul won't survive without yours," I whispered, pressing my hand to my chest. "I love you more than my own breath. And every month my body betray me, I feel likeI'm failing you all over again. Like I'm wasting your time. Like life gave you to me just to remind me of what I can't give back." My vision tunneled. I felt dizzy. My heart raced.
"Baeebbyy—" he started. But I was already shaking. "I know you say it don't matter," I cried. "I know you say you love me anyway. But what man don't want his blood to continue? What woman don't want to give her husband that? I see how you look at your nieces and nephews . I see how your eyes soften. I see it, Noles. I'm not blind." His hands came up to my face, forcing me to look at him. "Fuck that," he said sharply. "How you feelin'? How your mental? Where your head at right now?"
The concern in his voice cracked something open in me. The tears spilled freely then, no more holding back. "I'm tired," I sobbed. "I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of praying and waiting and bleeding. I'm tired of carrying this alone. I'm tired of feeling like my body ain't mine. Like my womb belong to the past instead of the future."
He pulled me into his arms before I could crumble completely. I pressed my face into his chest and cried like a child, fists clutching his shirt, breath hitching violently. "Ayida," he murmured, holding me tight. "You my wife. I'm worried about you. That other shit far from my mind." I shook my head against him, tears soaking through his shirt. "I didn't tell you because I was scared," I admitted. "Scared you'd look at me different. Scared you'd stay but resent me. Scared you'd leave. Ashamed about it."
He leaned down, his mouth near my ear. "Listen to me," he said, voice low and fierce. "I don't want you feelin' like I'm mad. I don't want you thinkin' you failed me. None of that bullshit. I wish you would've talked to me. I hate that you been carryin' that shit by yourself." He pulled back just enough to lookat me, his forehead resting against mine. "I hate that raggedy old bitch embarrassed you like that," he growled. "Hate it with everything in me." Then his tone shifted, darkened. "But don't you worry, Yi," he said quietly. "Them mutha fuckas gon pay. Every last one."
A shiver ran through me not in fear, but in recognition. The same recognition I'd felt when Madame Laurent told me to stop running from sight. his was the man I loved.
Capable of gentleness and devastation in the same breath. I clung to him, my fingers curling into his shirt like he was the only thing keeping me upright. "I don't want vengeance," I whispered. "I want peace." He kissed the top of my head softly. "And I want you safe," he replied. "No matter what it cost."
We stood there like that for a long time. No words, Just breathing. Just holding.
—
A week had gone by, but time still felt warped like the world had tilted slightly and never quite found its balance again.
I stood at the kitchen counter with one hip cocked, spooning yogurt from a small glass bowl while scrolling my phone like I was looking for something that might save me if I stared long enough. My stomach wasn't really in it, but I forced myself to eat because the doctor said fuel your body like you want it to stay. And right now, I needed my body to stay.
Noles had been gone since three, maybe four, this morning. I hadn't asked. I didn't need to. His nights had turned restless lately, like sleep didn't trust him anymore. When he was home, though, he hovered. Watched me too closely. Kissed my forehead every time he passed. Even learned how to give me thefertility injections, his jaw tight and focused like he was holding something fragile that might break if he breathed wrong.
I loved him for that And I feared it, too. The front door opening pulled my attention sharp. My heart jumped, instinctively expecting him shoes, keys, the familiar weight of his presence, but when I turned, it wasn't Noles standing there. It was Ms. Evie. She walked in like the house it was hers, purse high on her arm, keys jingling as she closed the door behind her with her foot. In her other hand was a foil-wrapped plate. "Don't be lookin' at me crazy," she said raising her eyebrow at me. "I got a key to all my boys' houses."
I blinked. Twice. She didn't ask permission. Didn't wait for a response. Just walked straight past me, unwrapped the plate, and stuck it in the microwave like she'd done it a thousand times before. I stood there frozen, spoon hovering midair. She scanned the kitchen while the microwave hummed, eyes sharp, cataloging everything. what was clean, what wasn't, what I was eating, what I wasn't. When the microwave beeped, she pulled the plate out and set it right in front of me on the counter. Then she dragged a chair over across from me and sat down like this was exactly where she was supposed to be. "Sit down and eat."
Before I could say anything, she snatched the yogurt off the counter, her nose turning up like it had personally offended her and tossed it straight into the trash sitting at the end of the counter. "Ms. Evie..uh," I started, trying to gather myself, "no disrespect, but what you doin' here? Noles not here. Probably won't be for a while." She waved her hand like I'd said something foolish. "Girl, eat that damn food. I know where to find Noles if I want him. I'm here for you."
I looked down at the plate. Collard greens cooked down soft and glossy. Fried chicken with a crust so golden it crackledwhen I touched it. Mac and cheese thick and creamy. Potato salad dotted with paprika. Cornbread steaming at the center.
My throat tightened. I grabbed my fork and took a bite before I could overthink it. It was good. Like home good. Like somebody cared enough to season it and pray over it before they cooked it. I couldn't lie her food was always good.
"That's the problem," she said, watching me chew. "You in here eatin' damn yogurt when you need a real meal. From now on, you better not miss a Sunday. You hear me?" I nodded automatically, mouth full. "And you gon' learn how to cook," she added sharply. "You ought to be ashamed not knowin' how to cook deep as your roots run." I swallowed hard, that one landing somewhere tender.
She went quiet then. Just for a moment. And when I glanced at her, her face had softened, just slightly. Like she'd taken her armor off for one breath. "This is not your fault, Ayida," she said, voice lower. "I don't want you ever feelin' like it is." Something in my chest cracked. I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear that from her until the words landed.
Not from Noles.
Not from Chiana.
Not from Amina.
But From her. The tears burned behind my eyes like salt on an open wound, sudden and sharp, but I refused to let them fall right then. I kept my head down, staring at the plate in front of me, watching the steam curl up from the greens. My chest felt tight, but not panicked. Calm in a strange way. Like something heavy had finally been named.
