“You want something to eat?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m good.”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “You come all the way over here with them heavy eyes and that tight face, and I’m supposed to believe you good?”
I blew out a breath. “You always start this early?”
“I’m old, not blind.” She turned the stove off and came to sit across from me. “Now what’s going on?”
I looked down at my hands for a second, rubbing my palms together.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just been in my head.”
“About April?”
I nodded slowly. “About the wedding. About all of it.”
Nana Hope didn’t rush me. She just sat there and waited, the way she always did when she knew something real was coming.
“I love her,” I said. “That ain’t the issue. I know I love her.”
“So what is the issue?”
I swallowed hard before answering. “What if I fuck this up?”
Her expression softened, but she didn’t jump in right away.
“What if I’m not built for this husband shit the way I think I am?” I went on. “What if I let her down? What if I turn into the kind of man she ends up regretting?”
Nana Hope folded her hands on the table. “And where you think all that fear coming from?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Probably from every damn example I had growing up.”
That earned me a small nod.
Our parents had left enough damage behind for both me and Roman. Whether it was addiction, selfishness, or just notknowing how to love right, they made family feel like something fragile. Something that could break easy.
Then there was Roman and Mo.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Watching Roman go through what he went through ain’t help either.”
Nana Hope’s eyes softened even more.
“That man loved his wife with everything in him,” I said. “And when she died… it was like watching somebody lose half of themself in real time. Roman strong as hell, Nana. Stronger than me. I don’t think I could survive no shit like that.”
Nana Hope sat back in her chair and looked at me for a long moment before she spoke.
“Baby, being scared to lose love and being scared to love are not the same thing, but they can have you making the same mistakes.”
I stayed quiet.
She kept going.
“You looking at marriage like it’s a promise that nothing bad will ever happen. It’s not. Marriage is saying even if life gets ugly, I’m still choosing you. Fear don’t mean you ain’t ready. It mean what you got matters.”
I looked down at the table, letting that sink in.
She reached across and put her hand over mine.
