“I want to live in a way that honors her,” I say.
“You’re already doing it,” David Sr replies.
Kimberly squeezes my hand.
“Grow from your grief,” she says gently. “Don’t live inside it.”
I sit back and breathe a little easier.
“Thank you,” I say again. “For loving me. For loving Zaria.”
David Sr smiles warmly.
“We don’t love conditionally in this family,” he says. “And we don’t let our children’s love stories end just because heaven called one home.”
That makes me smile.
When I leave brunch, the sun is warm against my face. The ache is still there. Today it feels less like a wound and more like a scar. Scars mean you survived.
HER NAME IN LIGHTS
The waiting room is too quiet.
Or maybe I am.
My heel bounces against the leg of the chair as I stare at the abstract painting on the wall like it might answer the question I’m too ashamed to say out loud.
Couples therapy had been going well. Slowly but surely Calil and I were finding our lovers rhythm. Funny enough we were most comfortable at Lena’s place. When my lease was up at my placed I moved in. Calil was preparing to rent his house out because he was with me more than he was home.
It was through couples therapy that I realized I needed somewhere to put my own fear without filtering it through Calil’s grief.
Dr. Manning’s door opens.
“Zaria,” Her voice is warm and kind like always.
I stand while smoothing invisible wrinkles from my jeans and follow her inside. I sit on the same couch Calil and I share during joint sessions. It feels different without him beside me.
“How are you?” she asks gently.
I laugh softly. “That’s a loaded question.”
“Good,” she replies. “Let’s unpack it.”
I stare at my hands for a moment before speaking.
“I haven’t had sex with Calil since Lena died.”
She doesn’t react dramatically. Just nods slightly. “Tell me why.”
The answer sits heavy in my chest. “Because it finalizes it.”
“What does ‘it’ mean?” she asks.
“Lena being gone.” Saying her name still tightens something in me.
“If we cross that line,” I continue quietly, “if it’s just me and him… then it’s real. There’s no buffer. No shared space.”
Dr. Manning leans forward slightly. “And what does that make you feel?”
