“You know Kairo better than anyone walking this earth. You know how to reach him. But you also gotta stop shutting down every time you don’t feel seen.”
“That man cannot read your mind,” she said. “You expect him to know what you need without saying it, and when he misses it, you retreat instead of fighting for your marriage.”
My lips trembled.
“This is fixable,” she said with tears in her eyes. “But only if both of y’all do the work. Hard conversations. Ugly honesty. No hiding or pretending to be okay.”
She brushed my tears away. “You don’t fix a marriage by running when it hurts,” she whispered. “You fix it by staying long enough to rebuild what broke.”
I broke down again, leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me gently.
“Cry,” she said, holding me tight. “Get it all out.”
Her hand rubbed my back slowly. “Cry tonight. Feel everything. Hate yourself if you need to.”
She kissed my forehead. “But when that sun comes up? You don’t shed another tear.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me. “I won’t let you stay stuck here. We are going to get through this.”
I nodded weakly as exhaustion finally overtook me. I was still crying, still hurting, still ashamed, but no longer alone.
Somewhere between her holding me and my tears running dry… I fell asleep.
26
Kairo
I barely slept. If I did sleep any, it was just that restless drifting where your body shuts down but your mind keeps replaying the same scene over and over.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time before I finally stood and opened the closet. The room smelled like Khloe. Her perfume lingered in the air.
I grabbed a duffel bag and started packing slowly. A few shirts, jeans, and toiletries. Nothing permanent, but I needed space to breathe. I was still hurt. Hell, hurt didn’t even describe it. It felt like someone had reached inside my chest and rearranged everything I thought I knew about my life, about my wife, and about us.
After laying awake all night staring at the ceiling, one thing became clear. I didn’t want her anywhere else but home. I didn’t want Khloe crying in some hotel room wondering if her husband hated her because I didn’t. I was angry. I was disappointed. I wasbroken in ways I didn’t know how to explain yet. But I still loved my wife and love didn’t stop just because pain showed up.
I sat back on the bed and picked up my phone. The message had already been sent hours ago.
We can talk soon. I just need to clear my head right now. I’m going to spend a few days with my brother. Please come home with Kennedi.
I stared at the screen again and her reply sat underneath it.
Thank you. I love you.
My jaw tightened remembering how long I stared at that message before responding. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to answer, but I didn’t want her thinking everything was magically okay. I finally typed back.
I know you love me. And you know I love you too.
That was all I could give without lying about where my heart was. I zipped my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Music blasted down the hallway from Kennedi’s room. She was still riding the high from her birthday.
I knocked lightly before opening the door. She was dancing in front of her mirror, phone in hand, singing loud and off-key.
She turned when she saw me. “Dad!” She grinned. “You heard this song yet?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, yeah. It’s loud enough for the whole neighborhood.”
She laughed while I leaned against the doorway, trying not to let my mood spill into her world.
“I’m heading out,” I told her, not letting her know what was going on. “Your mom should be home soon.”
