Page 121 of When a Soul Cries

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“If I want to leave tonight?”

That one hurt a little more than I wanted it to.

Still, I nodded.

“I’ll take you.”

Her shoulders slowly relaxed.

“Okay.”

I exhaled.

“Okay.”

And for the rest of the drive, I left her alone.

---

My garage door had barely finished closing before Sol was reaching for her door.

“Hold on.”

Her hand stopped on the handle, and she looked over at me suspiciously. “For what?”

I got out without answering, walked around the front of the SUV, and opened her door.

She stared up at me.

I stared down at her.

“What?” I asked.

Her mouth twitched. “Nothing.”

“You looking at me funny.”

“I didn’t know you were one of those.”

“One of what?”

“Open-the-door-for-you men.”

I frowned. “What kinda niggas you been dealing with?”

The smile appeared before she could stop it.

It was small and tired, but real.

And after the day she’d had, that tiny smile did something to me.

I reached down for the diaper bag, but the second my fingers closed around the strap, Sol pulled it closer against her side.

“I can carry it,” she said quietly. There wasn’t much attitude behind the words this time. Mostly exhaustion. Her eyelids were heavy, and even while she argued with me, she shifted the baby higher against her chest like her arms were beginning to ache.

I looked down at the bag, then back at her. “I know you can.”