I started jumping in place, doing a silent celebration with Kemi screaming on the other end of the line. She’d been by my side from day one on this project—filing papers, emailing lenders, doing late-night calls. She wanted the win as much as I did.
“I could cry, Kemi. Like, I really could.”
“I know,” she said. “But wait—there’s one small issue.”
I paused. “What?”
“He can only do the closing in May on the 7th. After that, he’s out of the country for four to five months.”
I repeated the date out loud. “Seven… seven…” And then it hit me.
Greece.
The anniversary trip Khloe had been planning since forever. The one she kept saying would finally feel like us again.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” Kemi said gently. “I figured it might be a conflict.”
It wasn’t just a conflict. It was damn near a dealbreaker. Sellers like Jacob don’t wait. The longer you give them, the more time they have to change their mind, or worse—listen to someone who thinks they’re being too generous, and I couldn’t risk that.
“You think she’d be open to pushing the flight? We could reschedule it for later that night—or even the next day if needed.”
“I can book the closing for early morning,” Kemi offered. “We’ll get in and out, have the papers ready. If she’s flexible, it’s doable.”
I ran a hand down my face. “Let me talk to Khloe first. I can’t make that call without her. But go ahead and move forward with the paperwork. I want everything set before I tell the family anything.”
“Got it. And Kairo?”
“Yeah?”
“I know things are rough right now… but look at what you’re doing. You created something out of nothing. Be proud of that.”
I smiled into the phone. “Thanks, Kemi. Really.”
“Talk to you in the morning,” she said before hanging up.
I stared at the phone for a second before setting it down and walking out of the closet.
The excitement from the news was still buzzing in my chest, but right behind it was a wave of anxiety. It was the kind of good news that could change a life, but I didn’t know it would change mine as well.
I stood in the kitchen, still hype from my workout, tossing blueberries and pineapples into a bowl. The house was quiet since Khloe had been gone for a few hours to take Kennedi to cheer practice. She always volunteered to be over the boosters, the snacks, the waters, and the parents’ group chat. All of it. That was Khloe’s way. She didn’t know how to let go, even if she pretended to. Kennedi had her permit, and I figured once she turned sixteen and could drive, things would get easier. But knowing Khloe, she’d still be up at 6 a.m. making sure the car had gas and the tire pressure was right just to follow behind her.
I heard the door open and then footsteps going upstairs. Kennedi. I didn’t even have to look. I could tell by how fast she moved, headed straight to her room, never stopping to say anything unless she needed something.
A few seconds later, Khloe walked in, breathing like she’d just done drills herself.
“The cheer team looks great,” she said, reaching into the fridge. “Good enough to take the championship home this year.”
I kept eating my fruit, nodding, because that was her thing—small talk after an argument, like nothing happened. She hated when I did it, but she did it like it was different coming from her. We could go from screaming at each other to her asking if I wanted tacos like the last hour didn’t happen.
“Oh yeah?” I said, finally speaking. “I know last year when they got runner-up, they were devastated.”
She cracked open a bottle of water and took a long sip. “Yeah, well, with this new coach, I’m sure they’ll take the win home this year.”
Then, like clockwork, she pivoted. “Did you see the message from my mom about what time to be at the ceremony for Rivah?”
I nodded, not bothering to say much because we were in the same damn group chat. But I got it, that was her way of reaching for peace. She’d never say “I’m sorry” or bring up what she said earlier. She’d just danced around it, hoping I’d meet her halfway. And most of the time, I did. Even when it stung.
