Page 151 of 4 Corinthians

The alarm announced, the front door was opened, and I reached for the scissors. “Corinthians!” Madea came into the living room. She was still in her pajamas, rollers still in her head, her eyes filled with concern. “Corinthians!”

“Here,” I struggled to say as I stood.

Madea stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me, and her shoulders dropped. “Oh baby,” she sighed and approached me. “Come here.”

“He didn’t mean it, Madea,” I cried as she wrapped her arms around me. “He didn’t mean it.”

“Ssshhhh,” she hushed me as she rubbed my back. “Just be quiet.” I stood there in Uri’s living room being held by my grandmother and cried. I held on to her, scared to let her go just like when I was a little girl and came to see her for the first time after having to fight. “It’s okay, baby.”

“Madea, I need to tell you something,” I groaned.

“Not right now,” she said, still hugging me. She guided me to the couch, and we sat. “Right now, I need you just to hug me back and cry every tear you’ve been afraid to let out.”

So that’s what I did. I cried myself to sleep in my grandmother’s arms.

***

“You’re going to be bruised for a few weeks or so,” Nine’s mama Nadine said. She slowly moved my face to the side. “Your left side is going to be worse than the right.”

“Okay,” I hoarsely replied. My voice was gone. More than likely from a combination of crying and being choked. All I knew was that it hurt and no matter what I did it wouldn’t stop.

“Rest and relax,” Nadine said before I could ask what I should do next. She patted my leg and stepped back. “I know it’s hard, but that’s all you can do.” I nodded, then looked over at Madea and Psalms. Madea hadn’t left my side since she showed up. Apparently, Uri called her, crying, saying it was an accident, and she rushed over to his house. No questions asked, no more explanation needed. Psalms showed up the next day when I didn’t answer her call. She said she kept having a bad feeling and now she knew why. “Don’t try and speak if you don’t have to.” Nadine smiled. “I know it’s going to be hard with Judah running around, but at least try for me.”

“Judah is staying with me for the week,” Madea announced.

I looked over at her, surprised. We hadn’t discussed Judah not being with me, but I couldn’t lie and say that not having to answer his millions of questions didn’t sound good.

“Now I’m going to ask this because I have to, but are you safe?” Nadine asked. She looked between the three of us and sighed. “I know you said it was an accident, but I need to be sure. Are you safe?”

“It was an accident,” I whispered. “He didn’t mean it.”

“Who didn’t mean it?” she asked.

“Uri,” I answered. Her eyes ballooned in surprise, then she nodded.

“Four?” she asked, and I nodded. She reexamined my throat then stepped back. “Okay, well, shit.”

“It’s fine,” I said, touching her hand. I didn’t know what Nadine knew of Uri’s past, so I wasn’t going into detail about anything. Plus, I still needed to talk to Psalms about telling Madea everything. I was tired of carrying this burden. I tried to say something, but my throat hurt so much I picked up my water and drank some to help with the pain.

“Rest, Corinthians,” Nadine said, patting my leg. “Just rest.”

***

“He choked you!” Psalms yelled and slammed the car door. “He choked you, and you’re going to forgive him.” She looked over the car at me and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve already forgiven him!”

“I haven’t done anything,” I told her. I shut the car door then walked to the house. “You comin’ or no?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, following behind me. I shrugged, and she kissed her teeth. “Why are you forgiving him, Sissy? He choked you.”

“He was having a nightmare,” I said.

Psalms dropped onto the couch, kicked her shoes off, then tucked her feet under her. I didn’t need to go into details because Psalms had nightmares. She’d woken up in tears or fighting more than anyone I knew. She dropped her head back against the couch and sighed.

“You forgave him because of me,” she said.

I rounded the couch, sat next to her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. “I forgave him because he didn’t mean to,” I whispered. “And I’m not forgiving him because of you in a bad way. I’m forgiving him because I know someone else with the same fears. How many times has Wednesday dealt with the same thing I’m dealing with right now?”

“More times than I can count,” she sadly laughed. She looked at me and gave me a sad smile. “Where is he?”