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-Rory Drew Houston
The letter and picture slipped from my hands and fluttered to the floor. All I could do was rest my head on my father’s shoulder and allow him to comfort me.
“Do you forgive him?” I heard myself whisper.
“As long as you were loved, safe, and happy, then, yes…I forgive him,” my father said.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Kierra
I seemed to be moving on autopilot as I introduced my parents to everyone—all but Kiyah. Felicity had returned to the living room and informed me that Kiyah was still having a “moment,” and Jonathan was speaking to her.
Rory’s apology letter to my parents fucked me up big time. I knew he experienced self-doubt and anxiety from time to time, but I never knew it ran that deep. Yes, I was hesitant about leaving my parents and the only home I knew, but who wouldn’t be? I was 18 and about to venture into the world on my own for the first time in my life with my rebel, forbidden boyfriend with $237.00 of babysitting money to my name.
That shit was scary.
Leaving my parents the way I did was my burden to carry—not Rory’s. I loved him and determined he was worth the risk, which ultimately paid off. My only regret was not keeping in contact with my parents. If I could turn back time and do it right, I would.
“Kierra?”
“Hm?” I hummed, tuning back into reality. The kids were running behind the dog, Simone and Anthony were on the loveseat together, intimately whispering to each other as Anthony caressed her stomach, my father and Marcus weretalking about guns and hunting while Felicity was making herself a martini on the vintage bar cart Jonathan bought her for Christmas.
“I don’t mean to rush, but…when can we see Kiyah?” my mother asked.
“Oh…right…let me go get her. I’ll be right back,” I mumbled. I felt like I was floating as I climbed the stairs and approached Kiyah’s bedroom. I paused when I heard her little voice.
“I don’t want my mommy to have another baby,” she said, expressing her feelings.
“You’ve mentioned that quite a few times since I’ve been speaking with you, but you won’t tell me why. I want to help, but it seems we’re having a little breakdown in communication, Ki.”
“I’m her baby.”
“You are, and you always will be,” Jonathan agreed.
“She’ll be tired like Ms. Simone.”
“Just for a little while.”
“Ms. Simone says the baby is killing her. I don’t want my mommy to die. I don’t want Ms. Simone to die. I like her. She gives me gingerbread cookies.”
I snorted. I’d said the exact phrase once or twice with Kiyah, especially during my morning sickness phase.
“The baby is not killing Ms. Simone.”
“But that’s what she said,” Kiyah argued.
“Ms. Simone was exaggerating. Do you know what exaggerating means?” I assumed Kiyah shook her head when I didn’t hear a response, and Jonathan proceeded to explain. “An exaggeration means you make a situation sound worse than it is. For instance, if someone said, ‘I’m so hungry, I could eat a bear.’ That’s a way of them trying to say they’re really hungry. Or if they say, ‘I’m so tired, I could sleep for three days.’ They won’t sleep for three days, but they’re relaying how tired they are. When Ms. Simone said the baby was killing her, she probablymeant that she was exhausted or experiencing some form of discomfort, but Ms. Simone and the baby are healthy. Trust me, if they weren’t, we’d hear it from Uncle Ant.”
“Is Mommy and the baby healthy?”
“That’s what I choose to believe unless I’m informed otherwise in a few weeks. I promise to keep you in the loop. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you feel a little better?”
“A little bit,” Kiyah offered cautiously.
