Page 62 of The Cost of Love

Silence hovers between us as those words fill our mouths. The honesty of those raw confessions has me swallowing a swell of emotion. How is it possible that we can come from such different backgrounds, but both grow up in a home lacking the base love that every child is deserving of? I never thought that there was a part of me that would understand him, but I get this.

There is an emptiness that was supposed to be filled by their affection that echoes inside of us. I can see it now when I look in his eyes, and the ache to fill it has me speaking before I can think better.

“You are lovable. I feel the urge to do it every time I am with you.” I close my eyes, scared by the confession. Wondering how I have gotten to this place with him.

I tried so hard to keep walls up, but with every interaction, he has chipped away at them. That is why I really came here last night, because, despite my best efforts, he sees me. Maybe it’s time I show him that I see him too.

I open them back up and watch as he just looks at me. He is so still, I wonder if I have knocked the breath from his lungs. Placing everything down, he walks over and drops to his knees. When he takes my face into his hands, I respond by doing the same. Our lips clash together, fighting to express everything we feel. In this one kiss, I can tell how much he needed to hear that, how much he may need me. I wonder if he can feel the same, because even though I fought it, I need him too.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice wavering.

I plant a kiss on his lips and then pull back. “Don’t thank me for the unavoidable.”

He smiles and then stands, offering to help me up.

“Are we done?” I ask,

“For now.”

I take his hand and let him pull me into his arms. It’s not until I feel his heart settle again that I let go.

“I should really get home. The kids are going to be done school soon.” Whether I like it or not, I need to be there to tell them about the court case.

He understands, and this time we finish the walk to get my stuff. When we are at the door, the way we hold each other solidifies that we have passed the point of no return. We are more to each other than a fling. It’s just up to me now to make it official, and at this point, I can’t think of any of the reasons I shouldn’t. I need to be sure before I do anything, though.

As soon as I finish getting dressed after my shower, the kids come through the door. Instantly, Gabby throws herself into my arms and tells me she missed me. It reopens the cut I just soothed at Alex’s house, as I remember that she may be saying this a lot more often if our mum has her way. I kiss her forehead before squeezing her as tight as I can, like it will hold her here.

Imani can see the tears growing in my eyes because she asks, “What happened?”

This gets Jamal’s attention. He puts down his book and comes to stand in front of me as well.

“We can talk after dinner,” I say.

“No, I want to know now.” Imani crosses her arms, blocking me from being able to reach her.

“Why don’t we sit?” I point to the couch and then lead the way. We all squeeze on the three-seater with Gabby on my lap.

“So,” I say and then take a deep breath. “Before anyone freaks out, please know I’m doing everything I can to stop it. I’m even going to hire a solicitor. So this might not happen at all.”

“Holy fuck,” Imani says, cutting me off. “Tell me it’s not what I think.”

I grab her hand and squeeze, never breaking eye contact. “Mum is fighting for custody.”

She closes her eyes, and I look at the other two to see confusion radiating in theirs.

“What does that mean for us?” Jamal asks.

“It means we are going to have to go back to living with her.” Imani tries to wipe the rapidly falling tears, but they are too quick. Some land on her shirt.

“No way,” Jamal says. He stands up and crosses his arms, his brows furrowing. “You can’t let them do that.” His voice spikes.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure they don’t. It’s not guaranteed at this point that you will have to go.” I grab his hand, trying to bring him back, but he pulls away.

Imani is full-on sobbing now, and Gabby hasn’t made a sound.

I try to quickly explain what I was told and what our options are, reiterating the fact that I’m going to get us help. It doesn’t ease the tension on any of their faces.

“I’m sorry, guys.” My voice finally wobbles as I start to break from holding all my own emotions at bay.