Not overnight and not in some dramatic way that you could point to and say, yeah, that’s when shit fell apart. It was quieter than that. It was slower, like somethin’ rotten settlin’ in the wallsof the mansion while we was still laughin’ in it, still fuckin’ in it and still pretendin’ love was enough to hold everything together.
At first, it felt like we was finally back on the same page.
We was touchin’ again and laughin’ again and movin’ through the house like we belonged to each other the way we used to. Kay’Lo was everywhere, all over me, kissin’ my neck when I passed him in the hall, smackin’ my ass when he thought I wasn’t lookin’ and pullin’ me into his lap like the past couple weeks hadn’t happened at all. He was loud with his love, bold with it, and anybody lookin’ from the outside would’ve thought we was solid as fuck.
But lil’ by lil’, I started feelin’ it.
It was that shift…
It was that heaviness that came right after the good moments, like every time we laughed too hard or fucked too good, somethin’ else crept in behind it.
Kay’Lo would get quiet outta nowhere or start watchin’ me too close like he was tryna read somethin’ off my face that I wasn’t even sayin’ out loud. He’d ask me questions that felt less like curiosity and more like interrogation, even when his tone stayed calm.
You happy?
You good?
You sure?
At first I brushed it off, and told myself he just needed reassurance, that we’d been through a lot and it was normal for shit to still feel fragile. I tried to love him through it and tried to be patient, but after a while it started feelin’ like no matter how much love I gave him, it never landed where he needed it to.
And that’s when the arguments started.
Not over nothin’ specific either, which almost made it worse. It was the tone, the energy and the way every lil’ conversation felt like it had teeth in it. I’d say one thing and he’d hear another.He’d come at me with that edge in his voice and I’d shut down, not ‘cause I ain’t care but ‘cause I was tired of explainin’ myself over and over again like my feelings needed to be defended in court.
One night, it finally boiled over.
We was in the bedroom, and I was sittin’ on the edge of the bed rubbin’ oil on my legs while he paced back and forth like a caged animal. He had that look in his eye, the one I knew too well, like his mind was already five steps ahead of the conversation and none of those steps ended well.
“You don’t even see how you act,” he said, stoppin’ in front of me. “Like shit don’t bother you. Like I’m over here talkin’ to myself.”
I looked up at him slow, already irritated. “Because I’m tired, Kay’Lo. I’m tired of goin’ in circles with you.”
He shook his head like he was over the bullshit too. “Nah. You dismissive. That’s what it is. You act like I’m trippin’ for feelin’ how I feel.”
“Because you are trippin’,” I shot back without even thinkin’. “You actin’ like a fuckin’ brat.”
The word barely left my mouth before I knew it was wrong.
Kay’Lo froze.
I saw it hit him before he even reacted. I saw that flash of hurt cross his face before his jaw twitched and his eyes went cold. “A brat,” he repeated slowly. “That’s the type of nigga you think I am?”
“I think you’re not hearin’ me,” I said, tryna soften it but not takin’ it back. “I think you keep pushin’ and pushin’ and expectin’ me to perform emotional gymnastics just to make you feel okay.”
“And I think you don’t give a fuck,” he snapped. “I think you sit there actin’ like nothin’ touch you while I’m over here tryna pull shit outta you with tweezers.”
That’s when it clicked for me.
This wasn’t even about the baby shit no more. It was about trust and control. Ever since he found my birth control pills, a seed was planted in head. It was the fact that he felt like he had to dig and pry and chase every emotion outta me, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe without him interrogatin’ me about it.
“I’m not doin’ this,” I said, standin’ up. “I’m not about to keep arguin’ with you like this.”
I tried to walk past him, but he stepped into my path.
“Nah,” he said. “You not walkin’ away. We not doin’ that shit.”
“I am,” I said, movin’ around him and headin’ down the hall.
