“I was pregnant freshman year . . . I wanted to drop out. I didn’t think I could do it, not without you. But you were gone, living your dream, finally getting the shot you worked so hard for. You were overseas, doing what you loved. I couldn’t be the reason you stopped.”
Zay didn’t interrupt. His silence was patient. Painful.
“I met Juwon a few months later,” she continued. “We started as friends. He was kind and so supportive. He saw me through school, stayed up with me when I was sick, helped me finish my degree when I wanted to quit. We fell in love. Or . . . I thought I did. But my heart, . . . it never really left you. Still, I tried to make it work. We got married.”
She paused again. “Then he started wanting more. More kids. More from me. And I—I couldn’t give him that. I didn’t want that with him. Eventually, he stepped out. Cheated.”
Zay closed his eyes. “Damn.”
“I tried, Zay. I gave him everything I could, but I don’t think I was ever ready. Then, he cheated. I blame myself because I knew I hadn’t been all in.”
“You can’t do that,” he said softly. “Cheating’s a choice. That’s on him. You—” His voice cracked a little. “You’re a goodwoman, Princess. Always have been. That’s why it hurt so much to lose you.”
She sniffed. “Don’t do that. Don’t be kind to me right now. I kept her from you.I’m sorry.”
He sat with the words and let them weigh on him.
“I used to tell myself you were better off,” she continued. “That maybe you seriously didn’t want to be a dad. Not after what you went through.”
He let out a deep and hollow laugh. “Truth is, . . . I’ve always wanted a family. But I didn’t think I was deserving of one. So I just . . . shut everyone out. Even when the lights were bright and the shows sold out, I was still empty. I was still missing you.”
That broke her. Her voice cracked. “I never stopped loving you.” The words came out in fragments, like breath slipping through a wound. “I didn’t stop. I just . . . buried it.”
He sat up. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Prin. Not once.”
She broke down right there, soft sobs muffling on the other end of the phone. He looked around his bedroom as tears fell from his eyes.
“Let me come see you and Yana,” Zay said. “I want to meet her.”
“Absolutely,” Love responded. “She wants that.”
A few days later, Zay stood on her porch, straight off his flight from L.A., heart racing harder than it ever had backstage of any of his shows. He’d done live TV interviews, been mobbed by fans, and toured foreign countries solo. But this . . . this was something different.
Love opened the door slowly. Her eyes met his, and for a second, neither spoke. Then she stepped aside and let him in. The scent of vanilla and something warm filled the space. It instantly reminded him of her bedroom, on those cold nights when they were teenagers back in Detroit.
He followed her down the hall to the living room.
“You ready for this?” Love smiled, staring into his eyes.
“No,” he replied nervously, “but I’m here now.”
She walked to him slowly and stood by his side. She touched his shoulder, giving him a firm and reassuring tap and nudged him through the walkway. When he walked into the room, he paused as he saw the back of her head sitting down.
There she was. Fifteen. Curled up on the couch. Her hair twisted into two puffs. She turned around, and the moment her eyes met his, something shifted. He saw his mother’s smile. His own stare in her gaze. His breath caught.
She looked nervous yet curious. Guarded even.
He cleared his throat and fully stepped into the room, closer to her. When he reached her, he stood in front of her, extending his hand. “Hi, . . . I’m Zay.”
She hesitated, then slowly stood up and reached for it. “Hi. I’m Yana.”
Her eyes met his gaze, big, brown, and cautious. He couldn’t help thinking of how much she looked just like his mother. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought, and he swallowed to keep them from overflowing.
He noticed the shirt she wore, an anime graphic tee. “You like anime?”
She nodded. “A lot.”
Zay smiled. “I used to watchNarutoreligiously. Got to visit Tokyo once on tour. Place is unreal.”
