I didn’t give a fuck about Ms. Rochelle’s health. Didn’t care that Aaron couldn’t keep Diary either. He would. He didn’t have a choice. He loved his niece and wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Listen nigga,” he paused. “I’m not the enemy. I’m actually trying to work with you. But you gon' have to work with me too.”
“I can’t work with shit right now. I’m in a tough spot. Figure it out,” I said before I hung up on him.
With a deep breath, I ran my hand over the top of my thick hair. I needed a cut. I needed a lot of shit. But I was stuck. Not because the car was totaled either. I was stuck because I was heavy in my emotions. Couldn’t seem to dig myself up out of them. Telling the kids we were getting a divorce did something to me. Fucked me up on a whole ‘nother level. Telling them made it real. Even without the papers.
Speaking of papers, I’d been on pins and needles every day, waiting for her to hit me with something. She’d been, of course, distant, ignoring a nigga. Leaving the room whenever I entered it. Giving me hell. I couldn’t even get a conversation out of her. We still slept in the same bed, because of my injuries, but she laid on the far, far left side, away from me with her back to me. Not only had she been distant in the crib, she was barely there, spending countless hours at work.
I knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want to be in the same house as me and I couldn’t blame her. Every chance I got, I was pushing up on her, trying to talk. Trying to fix what was already shattered. I didn’t want to let up. I didn't want to accept things for what they were. Would have you? If you were losing the love of your life over something you did a long ass time ago? I didn’t want to lose my fucking family. I’d gone over the top with gifts, sent her flowers, cleaned, cooked... all with one fuckin’ arm and broken ribs. I was healing but I was doing a lot with broken bones. She didn't seem to give a fuck though. About nothing.
She had me looking crazy. The kids didn’t say much, but they didn’t have to. They saw the sad shit. The other night, Aubry picked a dozen of old roses up off the island and threw them in the garbage. She gave me a sad look and walked out of the kitchen without uttering a word. Shit had been quiet around the house. Too quiet. Kids didn’t laugh or play the same. The crib was cold. Especially Gabe.
I hadn’t talked to him.
Should have but I couldn’t. I felt like a disappointment. Like I’d let my boy down. I was supposed to be an example.Wewere supposed to be an example of what real love looked like. With me as the head of everything, I was supposed to show him how to treat a woman. Was supposed to teach him how to be a good husband and father. How in the fuck was I supposed to do that now? With everything crumbling? Was I supposed to go to my son and tell him I hadn’t treated his mother right? Was I supposed to admit to fucking up and losing everything? When I was supposed to be this great ass father? Shit was fucked up.
I was going to talk to him, though. Just... I needed a minute.
My phone rang and I picked it up with a deep breath. Same number. Same nigga. Aaron. With a deep breath, I answered.
“Yo?”
“I know where you stay at nigga. We can go about this the civilized way or we can take it there. It's up to you. I’m telling you nigga.... I can’t keep my niece. Not like that. I need you to pull ya fuckin’ weight. I understand the situation. I do. I mean, I really fuckin’ do. But at the same time that ain’t got shit to do with her. She can’t be with me. I got real shit going on out here. I can’t be babysittin all day, every day nigga. Figure it out or I’m droppin her off and I want you to pull that shit on me like how you did with?—
“You pull up at my crib you leaving in a body bag, and I put that onherlife,” I interrupted. “I don’t know what the fuck youniggas take me for but I ain’t never been a ho. The only reason that bitch nigga got away with what he got away with is because I wasn’t here. Any other way, you would’ve been carrying him to his final resting place with five other niggas. You hear me?”
“Like I said bro... I’m not trying to take it there with you. Not over no paternity shit. If you give a fuck about my niece even a lil bit, you’ll move some shit around to make it so she ain’t gotta be in harm's way. You headme?”
I brushed my free hand over my head and let out a sigh. Fuck was I going to do? I cut my ma off because I thought she told Mahogany. I needed to fix that. Low key, I’d been thinking about calling to apologize to her for a couple of days now. I just didn’t want to hear no shit about what was going on. But I needed her. I needed her bad. I gave a fuck about Diary. I cared about her just as much as I cared about the other kids. I didn’t want her in harm's way. If this nigga Aaron said she’d be in danger if she stayed with him, I had to fix that. I had to make sure she was good.
“I need a couple days?—
“I don’t have a couple days, bro. I got a couple hours for you. Meet me at moms' crib at five.”
I took the phone from my ear and saw that he literally was giving me a couple of hours. It was going on two. I told him alright and we hung up. As soon as we got off, I got back on the phone and called my ma.
With my head tossed back against the chaise, I put the phone to my ear.
“Hey ma,” I said, once she picked up.
“Mmhp,” She grunted. “I know I must be trippin?—”
“I’m sorry, man. I fucked up.”
“Damn right you fucked up. What happened? She tell you how she found out?”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Nah, she didn’t. I saw it with my own two eyes. Ol girl ex... he brought Diary to the crib.”
“I know you lying!” She yelled.
I belched. “Shit. I wish I was.” I paused and shook my head, thinking about it. “My bad ma. I apologize. I thought?—
“You thought I was snitch muthafucka who ain’t got your back. That’s what you thought. I don’t know what the hell wrong with you. Name a time I ain’t have your back, Ducati.”
I paused and said nothing.
“Exactly. You can’t. If I say I’m in your corner, I’m in your corner. You hear me?” She stressed.
