My stomach drops. “As long as she needs to.”
“It’s okay Cici,” Za says. “It’s my dream and I’m taking responsibility for it.”
“Dreams don’t pay bills.”
I flinch like the words hit me instead.
Za laughs, but it’s brittle. “Funny how youneversay that when it’s Jabari.”
The room stills.
I feel it before I understand it, this is family business so I got to stay out of it—Here we fucking go.
Her mum stiffens. “That is different.”
“How?” Za demands. “Because he’s successful now? Because you can brag about him at church?”
“That boy worked hard?—”
“So have I!” Za’s voice breaks, and my heart goes with it. “But every time I do something, it’s ‘be realistic’ or ‘don’t waste time’ or ‘think about marriage.’ You back him more than you back me and it’s not fair!”
My chest tightens. This is wrong. This is all wrong.
I step forward without thinking. “Okay. Okay. Everyone breathe.”
My mum moves too, palms up. “Exactly. Enough. This is not how we talk.”
“I’m leaving,” Za announces. “Frankie. Let’s go.”
“Zee,” I say softly. “Calm down, okay? Y’all can talk this out. This is big, you got a part. That's all that matters.”
“Tuh! Money also matters,” Her mum rubs her temples. “Chinasaokwu, I worry about your future.”
Za clenches and unclenches her fists repeatedly. I want to say something, I swear I do, but it’s not my place. And I can’t force her to speak up.
I can see her fighting to keep her temper in check and biting her tongue to stay respectful. “Let’s just go.”
Oh Za.
Something inside me gives way.
I look at her properly then. Not as my best friend, but as a woman standing on the edge, begging the people she loves to believe in her. Begging them to choose her.
And it hits me, sudden and ugly and undeniable.
I was wrong.
The road to hell isn’t littered with bad decisions.
It’s littered with the shattered hearts of the people you betray.
And Za is right here needing me.
So for the first time since this mess started, the choice stops being abstract.
It’s standing in front of me.
After hoursof listening to her express herself over and over again, Za finally cries herself to sleep in my arms. Her fingers still loosely curled in the sleeve of my top, I lie there staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of her breathing.
