The drive home from the ice-cream parlor is quiet, as my mind is on Caziya, the conversation between us, and her interaction with Zakiyah. With my thoughts still on Caziya when we arrive home, I let Zakiyah play in her room until the time for me to put her in the bathtub. It doesn’t take long for Zakiyah to go from sleepy to barely able to stay awake, which I should have prepared for when putting her in the tub.
“Okay, Kiki. Let’s get you washed up, and then Daddy will get you out of here.”
Zakiyah nods before standing up in the tub, letting me know that she’s ready, and I grab her washcloth to begin cleaning her little body. At the beginning of this situation, I had to have Ma talk me off the ledge about being a man cleaning my baby girl. Society and the internet had me paranoid about doing things that I have to do as a single father. After being cussed out by Ma, who I practically begged to come over and bathe Kiki, I started handling my business without further hesitation. However, I’m looking forward to the day when Kiki will be self-sufficient and no longer need Daddy for these basic needs.
I wonder if Caziya will be a great mother who makes my life easier.
“Where did that thought come from?”
“Me, Daddy?”
Smirking, I shake my head before rinsing the soap from Zakiyah’s body, lifting the stopper in the tub, grabbing the towel resting on the toilet before opening it up, and pulling her out of the tub, wrapping the garment around her. I’m not sure how my mind zoomed in on thoughts of Caziya and motherhood,but now that she’s on my mind, I need to hurry through Kiki’s bedtime routine so I can call her.
I have been homefrom work for about thirty minutes, trying to determine what I want for dinner, but my brain is all over the place. It’s been two months since my life imploded on me, and I’m still dealing with the aftermath of everything. I didn’t think I would struggle to bounce back, because Kelvin and I were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. But my mind occasionally reminds me of my mistake of being the other woman, and at the most inopportune time too. I also blame the soul tie that resulted from sleeping with that man, whose commitment should have been reserved for the woman he exchanged vows with. I’m praying that my unknowing knowledge of interfering with someone else’s happiness won’t block me from finding my own.
“Lord, please don’t let karma snatch my chance of—” The chime coming from my phone halts my sentence, causing me to lift it to see who’s sent me a message.
A weary and lopsided grin upturns my lips upon seeing Zakai’s name staring back at me. At first, I thought Zakai would be on the same level of trifling as Kelvin, after learning of his daughter. However, unlike Kelvin, Zakai quickly shattered the notion that he was moving with ill intentions. Nevertheless, it’s hard to trust or take someone at their word after what I went through with the last man. I know I shouldn’t crucify Zakai for the mistake of my last, but it’s hard when life hasn’t always been kind toward me. Nevertheless, I open the text with shaky hands as curiosity gets the best of me.
Zakai:
I’m moving about my day as usual, but my mind keeps wandering to thoughts of you, so I think a check-in is warranted. How are you, Ziya?
My stomach feels like a herd of horses galloping as I read Zakai’s text, and warmth fills my extremities. A small smile forms as I bite my lip with my head slightly tilting while pondering an appropriate response. There’s something about Zakai that feels new, exciting, and different, but I have reservations about being hit by another bomb or something going wrong. Or Zakai’s charm being as fake as a leprechaun, making his attention vanish faster than a rainbow after a storm. Before I can compose myself and sort through the fog of my wayward thoughts, my phone chimes again with a new message.
Zakai:
I can sense your hesitation, and I promise that my motives are pure. All I need is a chance to show you something you’ve never had before.
A heavy sigh escapes my mouth, and a lone tear falls from my eyelid when I read the new message. This is part of the aftermath I’m still dealing with post-Kelvin because, while Zakai’s words feel trustworthy, my conscience has me side-eyeing everything he’s saying. While I’m trying my best not to be bitter or resentful toward the opposite sex, I often feel like throat-punching some of them who stare at me with googly eyes or speak to me, trying to gain my attention.
“Is it fair to judge Zakai without taking a minute to engage with him, though?” The question not only surfaces but makes its way out of my mouth as I finally reply to Zakai while holding my breath.
Me:
Please be patient with me.
My lip trembles once I hit send on the message because my emotions are once again welling within me, and I’m unable to shift my mind from what happened months ago.
“Damn. This sucks. I’ve gotta—” Again, a chime sounds, cutting off my sentence or ability to verbally express the things I genuinely need to bury at the bottom of an ocean somewhere.
Zakai:
I’m the father of a two-year-old. Patience comes easy for me. But are you alright? My mind won’t settle unless I know you’re good. So even if you’re not, lie to me.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, trying to get the two words to register in my mind so I can type them into a message for Zakai.
Zakai’s concern is something I appreciate more than he’ll ever know for reasons I can’t communicate to him. Opting out of sending another message, I hit the phone icon while taking deep cleansing breaths when it rings.
“Hearing your voice is so much better than the coldness of a text. Hello, Ziya,” Zakai says in a deep yet husky tenor that almost causes me to forget to breathe or reply when the call connects.
If I could judge and grade Zakai based on attraction, I would be a woman without pause. Too bad I’m a woman whose past has been dictating her moves; otherwise, I would shamelessly throw myself at this man.
“Hi, Zakai.” My words sound forced, even to my own ears, but my desire to temporarily forget everything during a phone conversation with him pushes me forward. “How’s your day been?”
“Before now, pretty mundane. But now, perfect. I know you might not be, but tell me you’re good.”
“I will be,” I whisper over the lump in my throat, forcing myself to embrace where I’m heading and not this present moment.
