She let out a wet laugh. “You and your analogies.”
“We can keep the date,” I added, surprising myself. “I don’t wanna push it back. That feel like stallin’. I just… wanna walk into it with intention. Not fear.”
She searched my face, like she was tryna see if I was just talkin’ or if I meant it.
I meant it.
“You sure?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’m sure. I’m still scared. But I’m sure I want you. I’m sure I don’t wanna be without you. And I’m sure if I let this fear win, I’ma regret it more than any mistake we could make actually tryin’.”
Tears spilled over her lashes, runnin’ down her cheeks.
I reached up and wiped ‘em with my thumb.
“You really piss me off sometimes,” she whispered.
“I know,” I said. “You too.”
She laughed through her tears, then leaned in, restin’ her forehead against mine.
“Okay,” she breathed. “We’ll go see Nana Sunday.”
Sunday dinner at Nana Hope house always smelled like home.
Fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, greens, cornbread, whole nine. But this time, the air felt heavier when we walked in.
“You two look like you got somethin’ on your chest,” Nana said as soon as she hugged us both. “Sit down. We gon’ eat first. Then we talk.”
We did as we were told, but I ain’t taste half my food. The way I tore that shit up.
After the plates were cleared and she brought out tea instead of dessert, she sat across from us at the kitchen table, eyes sharp but kind.
“Aight,” she said, foldin’ her hands. “Who gon’ start?”
April looked at me.
I took a breath.
“I’m scared,” I said simply. “I’m scared of marryin’ her and fuckin’ it up. I’m scared of bein’ like my parents. I’m scared of not bein’ enough. I’m scared of what happen if I lose her like Roman lost Mo.”
Nana nodded, not interruptin’.
“And in tryin’ to protect her from all that,” I continued, “I been pushin’ her away. Not showin’ up fully. Half lovin’ her out loud. Drownin’ in my own head instead of sayin’ it.”
Nana turned to April. “And you, baby?”
April wiped her hands on a napkin. “I’m scared too,” she said. “Of all the same things. But I been choosin’ him in my fear. And his silence… it’s been hurtin’ me.”
Nana let that sit for a minute.
Then she said, “Fear is not the enemy. Dishonesty is.”
We both went quiet.
“You got every right to be scared,” she told me. “Life has showed you some ugly things. But you do not honor love by runnin’ from it. You honor it by tellin’ the truth about how you feel and then walkin’ forward together anyway.”
She looked at April. “And you, my sweet girl, do not have to be strong enough for both of you. You don’t have to carry his fear and yours.”
