“Bad, G… some shit I never wanted her to find out. Would have given all this up if that meant she never had to live with this.”
My heart sank hearing how somber Menace sounded. I could tell from the look on his face that it was breaking his heart, because she was hurt.
“Fuck. Want her to tell me?”
He had removed his hands from his pockets and started rubbing them together. “You said this shit my fault?”
I looked at him and shook my head. “You just a big brother trying to protect them from the world… never gonna hear me blame you, nigga.”
He slowly nodded his head, as if this was something he needed to hear. “It’s my fault though, my fault,” he quietly repeated to himself.
I didn’t know if I should have stayed out here with him or went to see my baby. I allowed him the space and headed into the house. Stevie and Kora were in the kitchen. Kora was holding her nephew, and they both looked at me like they saw a black Jesus. As if I was their savior.
“Goon, she’s upstairs. The room to the left, all the way down the hall,” Stevie quickly pointed towards the stairs.
Her eyes were misty, and I could tell she had been crying. Kora stared straight ahead, rubbing her nephew’s back. I could tell she was fucked up, but tears weren’t her thing.
She’d hold that shit in until she was alone and let it out. The same way Menace stood there, holding it in because he was the oldest. It had always been his job to keep everything together.
You couldn’t show any emotion, because you needed to make sure everyone else was good. Your emotions weren’t priority, so naturally, you learned not to feel them. In my opinion, shit felt better that way.
I took the steps one at a time and headed down the hall. As I walked, I took in all the pictures of the family, tucked down a hall that didn’t seem like it was used much. There was no evidence of life, and I was uncertain if Boobie was even in the room.
Knocking twice, she didn’t respond. I grabbed my wallet, putting my duffle bag on the floor and used my credit card to unlock the door. I slowly opened the door and flipped the lights on.
Zoya had fucked this room up. Everything was tossed everywhere, and furniture was moved around. A mirror in the corner was broken; family pictures and trophies were tossed around. Her dresser was turned over with clothes falling out of the drawers.
The clothes spilling from the knocked over dresser were kids’ clothes. Little girl stuff with flowers, teddy bears, and all thatgirly shit. A ribbon wall had been yanked down; headbands and bows scattered the floor.
The room was stuck in time.
Back when their parents were alive and the Caselli kids could breathe easier. A time when pain didn’t make it past their front door, because their parents carried it for them. When life was simple, even softer.
Easier.
The frilly pink bedding had been snatched from the bed, as she lay in the middle curled up in a fetal position. Her eyes adjusted from the darkness, as she slowly lifted her head up and her eyes were almost shut, swollen from her tears.
“Goo,” she croaked as she scooted across the bed.
I tossed my headphones from around my neck onto the floor and rushed toward the bed. She held her arms out and I grabbed her as she sobbed into my neck. Her arms squeezed me around the neck tightly as I held her.
“I’m sorry, Baby… I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what I was sorry for, but I knew I never wanted her to hurt like this again.
That wall she had been holding up had caved in like a dam.
The Zoya that was always so put together and protective of her heart was gone. She held onto me as she sobbed. Clinging onto me like she never wanted to let go of me, and she never had to.
I kissed the side of her face as she wrapped her legs around me. “You still came,” she whimpered.
“All you have to do is say something once and I’m coming, Baby. You never got to say shit twice… I could hear you weren’t good and knew I needed to be with you.”
She needed me.
“I’m broken, Goo. My life is a complete lie… I don’t know who I am.”
We stood in the middle of the wreck she had caused, and I held her because I promised her that I would. I would always be there to hold her, lift her up, and make sure she knew who she was.
She wasn’t a broken woman. Just a woman who had experienced loss after loss and never healed. Zoya just moved forward because that was all she had witnessed. There was no going back, no time to heal, shit needed to be done.
