Page 34 of Mia

She began to cry, and that shit ate me up. The Mia I knew never shed tears. She wasn’t emotional, and she rarely gave a fuck. To see her so down and broken and know there was nothing I could do to ease her pain or bring our baby back was a tough pill to swallow. I eased to the floor and kneeled in front of her while holding her and kissing her temple.

“This is all my fault!” she wailed, sobbing uncontrollably. “I killed my baby!”

A nigga didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t convince her that this wasn’t her fault because, in a way, it was. If she’d kept her ass home like I told her, none of this would have happened. But I couldn’t say that. This was my fault too. I could have opened my mouth to her father or grandfather.

I still had to deal with that man, and I knew what was coming on that end. He already told me he was gonna see me. In his eyes, I went against the grain. He might not kill me, but I wasn’t walking away untouched or without repercussions.

“We’re gonna get through this,” I promised. “I’m here. I ain’t going anywhere. You hear me? I’m right in this with you. I promise you, every muthafucka connected to that son of a bitch is gonna feel the wrath of the DeLucas for this shit. We owe that to Eden.”

At the mention of our daughter’s name, she looked up at me. A darkness filled her orbs that almost made me back up. She didn’t say anything, just eased herself into an upright position and fully tossed back the covers. I stood to my feet as she eased to the edge of the bed, wincing in pain.

Her incisions were still healing, so it didn’t help she’d been lying here for days. Hooking my arms under hers, I gently lifted her from the bed and helped her into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, I undressed her, and myself then climbed in. As the water cascaded over us, she closed her eyes. Grabbing her loofah and body wash, I squirted a good amount onto it and proceeded to wash her clean.

The entire time we were in the shower, there was nothing but silence.

Once we got out and dried off, I slipped into a pair of shorts and helped her into her robe. Carefully, I sat her at the vanity. After grabbing the products I needed, I did the routine I’d seen her do a million times before with her natural hair. Detangler. Moisturizer. Curling mouse. She sat quietly with her eyes closed the entire time. I kept glancing at her in the mirror. In this moment, I couldn’t tell if she was sad, angry, or relaxed, but I didn’t say a word. Once I was done, I gathered what I needed to clean her incisions.

Ms. Maddie and Grams walked in just as I was applying the bandages. They offered me a warm smile.

“Hey, baby,” Maddie said softly.

Mia looked up at them, but didn’t say anything.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Again, silence. Maddie sighed as she walked into the closet. I could hear her rummaging through the hangers. Grams walked over and cupped Mia’s face, kissing her cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered. “If you need to come share my bed for a while, a spot is always waiting for you, you hear me?”

Mia nodded.

I finished applying the bandages, then grabbed her panties and slipped them on. My eyes lingered on her stomach as I gathered the trash to dispose it. It was hard to believe my baby wasn’t in there anymore. I went three months without feeling her presence. Two days was all I got with her before she was snatched from me. That shit was a killer. Tears filled the corners of my eyes as I stood to my feet.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Ms. Maddie, can you help her get dressed? I need a minute.”

She stepped out of the closet with a dress in her hands. “Of course, baby.”

I didn’t say anything else before I headed out of the room. Even though there was a trash can in the bedroom, I went all the way downstairs to the kitchen to throw this shit away. I stood at the island, gripping the sides as I took deep breaths to calm myself down.

She’s gone.

She’d really fucking gone, and I had to bury her today.

“Fuck!”

I picked up the vase on the counter and hurled it at the wall. The glass shattered to the floor as Grams walked into the kitchen. She gave me a sympathetic look as she walked over to me.

“I’m sorry, Grams,” I said, turning away and wiping my eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for feeling pain, baby,” she said, turning me to face her. “You lost a child. That’s a pain that doesn’t leave you.”

I stared at her for a minute, trying to hold it together. The moment she wrapped her arms around me, a nigga broke down. This shit wasn’t supposed to be happening. How did a prenatal checkup turn into a fucking shoot out that resulted in my child’s death? All the beefing and fighting Mia and I had done leading up to her leaving seemed so stupid at this point.

We could’ve been adults and talked about our problems. We could have done anything but her leaving, and me keeping my mouth shut, knowing her condition. Now we were paying the ultimate price. My daughter was gone, and I had to watch a muthafucka seal her in a crypt forever.

An hour later, the tears had dried, and we were dressed and coming downstairs. I wasn’t surprised to see Senior, Mia’s siblings, their wives, and the kids congregating in her living room. The ladies all wore somber looks on their faces. Her brothers looked worried, and Senior wore sunglasses, suggesting he’d already been crying.

Mia had refused to see any of them since we’d been home.