“I told your dumb ass already nothing is going on!” Love yelled, her throat raw now. “You think I want that back? You think I want to go back to crying myself to sleep wondering where he is? No! We work together, that’s it. You should beworrying about the baby you made behind my back before you worry about a business meeting I had to have?—”
“You don’t get to preach to me about babies when the only reason he working with you playingheronow is because you let him!” Juwon fired back. “What you gonna do, Love? Gonna let him slide back into your bed too, huh? Gonna let him slide into her life like he some father of the year?”
Her hands were shaking. She stepped forward until they were nose to nose. “Watch your fucking mouth. I would never let him take what you built with her. Never. But you are not my husband anymore. And you know damn well why. So stop playing victim.”
“Oh, so I’m the villain now?”
“Nigga, you made your own bed!” she screamed. “You don’t get to break up this family and then turn around and demand loyalty?—”
The air cracked with the force of their voices. Neither noticed the small gasp at the edge of the hallway until a soft, trembling voice broke through them.
“Mom?”
They both turned with their eyes wide, breathing hard.
Yana stood there barefoot with her earbuds in her hands and a puzzled expression across her face. Her eyes bounced between her mother’s tear-streaked face and Juwon’s clenched fists.
“Dad, . . . what are you guys saying?” she whispered. “Is that true?”
Silence thundered louder than any scream. Love’s lips parted, but no words came out. Juwon dropped his head. His chest rose and fell slowly as he placed both hands on his forehead. Neither of them responded, both too stunned, embarrassed and not able to formulate the right words to begin.
Yana’s chin quivered. “So . . . he’s my real dad? The guy mom is in the blogs with? Westside Zay?”
“Baby—” Love started. She took a step forward.
Yana shook her head and took a step back. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks as she quietly spoke. “You lied. You both lied to me.”
Then, she turned and bolted up the stairs. Her sobs echoed off the walls before the bedroom door slammed so hard the picture frames rattled.
Love covered her mouth, and a choked sob escaped behind her palm. Juwon stood there, shoulders slumped, all his righteous anger burned to ashes.
They both just stood in that broken kitchen as two grown-ups who’d built too many lies on top of each other to keep pretending anything was whole.
Love quickly turned to head toward the stairs, but Juwon grabbed her arm. She jerked away.
“I have to?—”
“She won’t open it. You know it. Let her breathe.” His voice was flat now, calmer.
They both paced the room for a few minutes, thinking and grunting out loud occasionally before they both slumped at the kitchen island again, shoulders sagging and years of pretending burning away like old wallpaper.
“I didn’t mean for her to find out like this,” Juwon murmured, staring at his hands. “Damn, I fucked up, Love.”
“Neither did I.” She rubbed her temples, fighting the pounding behind her eyes. “I have to tell her everything. She deserves that much.”
“Wehave to tell her everything, together,” he corrected. He sighed and dropped his shoulders. “She’s still my daughter, you know. I don’t care what blood says.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked. “I’d never take that away from you, Juwon.”
They sat like that a little longer. They were two people who had failed each other in every way except the one that mattered most: loving that girl upstairs.
“I want that divorce,” she finally said quietly.
He nodded, no fight left. “Yeah. You got it. Just . . . please don’t shut me out. Not with her.”
“I’d never do that to either of you.”
They both stood slowly. No apologies this time. Just tired acceptance.
