“Yeah.”
I hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
He shifted a little, adjusting himself against the couch, careful with his shoulder but trying not to make a big deal out of it.
“You named the shed after your mom,” he said.
I looked down at my hands for a second before answering.
“That wasn’t really for me,” I admitted, picking lightly at my nails. “That was more for my dad and you.”
“Me?”
“I feel like… y’all been looking at me like I’m her extension,” I said, lifting my eyes to meet his. “Like I’m just… the version of her that’s still here.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “I ain’t?—”
“I know,” I cut in gently. “You got past it. But him? I don’t think he can.”
He leaned back slightly, studying me now.
“You really think so?”
“Yeah,” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my hands coming together as I tried to explain it the way it made sense in my head. “Like she died and he just… paused right there. Both of y’all did.”
He looked away for a second. That was the first real reaction I got out of him.
“And everything after that,” I continued, “y’all just been moving, but not really moving.”
I exhaled, softer now.
“I just was hoping it would give you both common ground to mourn her while embracing me as my own person. Because I am my own person, I make my own choices, move how I wanna move and I love who I wanna love.”
His expression softened just a little. “I know that, baby.”
“I don’t think my dad realizes that.”
That’s what hurt.
“That’s why I named it after her,” I said. “I thought maybe if I gave him that… if I honored her in a way he could understand… I thought it would make him see me different or at least… soften him.”
Marlon let out a slow breath.
“It didn’t,” he said.
“No,” I said. “It didn’t.”
Silence settled again but it wasn’t empty.
He reached for my hand.
“I see you,” he said. “For real. Just you.”
“I know.”
“And don’t worry about Dillon. He’ll come around.”
I looked him in the eyes. “Promise?”
