The hospital was packed.
The whole Mensah family was there, fillin’ up the space with worry and tension that you could feel the second you stepped in. My eyes moved fast, searchin’ for one person.
When I ain’t see Kay’Lo, panic started creepin’ in quick, and my hands shook as I pulled my phone out and called him, pressin’ it to my ear while my eyes kept movin’ around like I could find him faster that way.
The phone kept ringin’ in my ear while my eyes searched the room, and before I could even think about lettin’ it go to voicemail, I looked up and saw him comin’ through those double doors. The second my eyes landed on him, everything in me shattered.
He had blood on him. His clothes was stained with it. It was dark and thick against the fabric, and for a second I couldn’t even move ’cause the sight of it hit me so hard.
That was his daddy’s blood…
My heart dropped straight to my stomach, and I hung the phone up without even thinkin’, my feet movin’ before my mind could catch up.
He looked up at me at the same time, and even though his expression was stoic, even though he stood there like he washoldin’ himself together the only way he knew how, I saw it in his eyes.
They was red and glossed over, and I could see everything he was tryin’ so hard to hold in sittin’ right there behind them. I ain’t think or hesitate before I ran straight to him.
I threw myself into him, my arms goin’ around his neck while his arms wrapped around me like he needed somethin’ to hold on to. The second we connected like that, I felt him break.
I felt it in the way his body gave in, and the way his hold on me tightened like he had been holdin’ that shit in all day and ain’t have to no more.
“I’m here,” I whispered against him, my voice shakier than I wanted it to be, but I ain’t care. “I got you… I got you, baby.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him, and the second I saw his face up close, it hurt me all over again ’cause my husband never looked like this. He never let himself get to this point in front of anybody, and the fact that I was seein’ it right now meant he ain’t had nothin’ left to hold it together with.
I ain’t even think twice. I went right back to him, kissin’ his face, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips and everywhere I could reach. I was tryin’ my best to pour everything I hadn’t been givin’ him back into him all at once.
“I’m right here,” I kept sayin’, my hands movin’ over the back of his neck, his shoulders, his arms, holdin’ him like I wasn’t lettin’ go this time. “You hear me? I’m right here.”
He let out a deep sigh, and I felt it against me, and that alone made my eyes fill up again ’cause I knew what it meant for him to let that slip out.
I pulled back again, just enough to look into his eyes, and they was still red, still heavy while fightin’ to stay composed, and I hated seein’ him like this.
“It’s gon’ be okay,” I told him, even though I ain’t know that for sure. “He gon’ be okay.”
He ain’t say nothin’ right away, and that silence said more than words ever could ’cause I knew he was picturin’ the same thing I was picturin’.
I couldn’t leave him in that space, so I pulled him right back into me, holdin’ him tighter this time, my hand slidin’ up into his hair while my other arm stayed wrapped around him like I was shieldin’ him from everything outside of us.
From that moment on, I was done holdin’ back and lettin’ pride sit between us. Nothin’ we had been goin’ through mattered more than this right here. My husband needed me, and I wasn’t about to fail him again.
“I got you,” I whispered against him, softer this time, but more certain. “You ain’t by yourself in this.”
And I meant that shit with everything in me.
One week later…
A whole week had passed since Kwame got shot, and I still couldn’t shake how that day kept replayin’ in my head like it happened five minutes ago instead of days ago.
They said the bullet went through his lower stomach and missed anything that would’ve had him livin’ the rest of his life hooked up to machines, but that ain’t make it light. He still had to be rushed into surgery so they could clean everything out and make sure nothin’ important was damaged or infected.
Now he was home, and even though he made it through, movin’ around still wasn’t easy for him, and every lil’ change in his body reminded everybody just how close that shit really was.
Treasure ain’t left that man’s side since he got home. She stayed on him and made it clear she wasn’t playin’ about his recovery. She had doctors comin’ in and out the house, made sure he had the best medication, and kept him on a schedule like nothin’ was gon’ slip through the cracks on her watch.
She made sure he ate, made sure he rested, and made sure he ain’t push himself too far. Watchin’ her move like that did somethin’ to me. It made me see what it looked like when a woman really stood behind her husband without hesitation.
As for the nigga that shot him, I ain’t ask questions, and I ain’t need to.
