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I paused, letting Carmen process my words, her young mind working to comprehend the depth of what I was saying.
“It's like. . .when you accidentally break a toy, but instead of getting mad, your mommy helps you fix it.” I hoped this was a better example. “She's showing mercy because she loves you and knows everyone makes mistakes.”
Carmen frowned. “I broke mommy's frame of her Nana in her room, but she didn't get mad.”
Zuri put her view on our daughter.
“Mommy, just helped me clean it up so my fingers wouldn't get cut.” Carmen showed her hands.
“Exactly.” I bobbed my head. “Mommy showed you mercy.”
Zuri's voice was cautious yet curious. “So, who helped you. . .return from space so early?”
“That's a very long story, too long for little ears.”
Carmen took a small step away from her mom and fiddled with her shirt. “Did you meet green aliens in space?”
My heart swelled at her innocence. “I didn’t see any green aliens, Carmen. But I did meet a lot of different. . .people.”
Her face lit up. “I told Melissa that Santa is gonna bring daddy from the moon for Christmas. She said no one is on the moon and Santa is not real.”
“Sometimes people say things when they don't understand.”
“Yes.” She bobbed her head. “Melissa is stinky anyway.”
Zuri frowned. “Carmen, we don't say that about Melissa.”
Carmen widened her eyes at Zuri. “She is, Mommy.”
Zuri sighed. “Sweetheart, why don't you go to your room and get out your drawings? Tell us when you're ready and we will come see them.”
Carmen's eyes sparkled. “My drawings?”
“Yes. I bet he would love to see them.”
I nodded. “I would love that a lot.”
She glanced at me, and then back to her mother. “Okay, Mommy!”
Seconds later, Carmen tossed me a shy smile and then, with a joyous skip in her step, she scampered off to her room.
That's my daughter.
A surge of emotion rushed within me. Her giggle and smile were small gestures, but in them, I saw a glimmer of hope, a possibility of connection.
Zuri watched her go, then turned her gaze back to me. Her expression was still guarded, but there was a softness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
However, when she returned her gaze to me. That softness disappeared.
Tension gathered in my shoulders.
Chapter 10
The Bridge
Once Carmen was out of earshot, Zuri's expression turned serious and she lowered her voice. “What the fuck, Dante? You break into my place—”
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself—”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s been forever since I’ve seen you—”
“You didn’t answer my letters.”
“I know.”
“Or let me visit you.”
“I know.”
“And now you just break into my condo like everything is all good?”
“I know.” I slowly rose from the ground and tried to get closer to her, but she held up her hands.
“No.” She shook her head. “Stay right there. You've clearly gotten crazy over these years.”
I yearned to touch her and feel her skin. How many lonely nights within that cold cell had I imagined her in my arms?
Footsteps sounded from Zuri's door, making me realize it was still open and tons of grocery bags remained scattered in the doorway.
Then, a woman walked past, yapping into her phone. “Sheila, I'm telling you. He was not all that at all. Tall, but small in the places where he shouldn't be.”
She disappeared, yet her laughter trailed behind.
“Let me get those for you.” I slowly headed over to the bags while still keeping a wide berth between Zuri and me. “Is that okay?”
“You don't need to—”
I gathered them up before she could finish the sentence. “Where do you want them?”
“Oh.” She came over. “In the kitchen.”
“No problem.” I carried them there.
The door clicked behind me.
Zuri must have closed it.
Does she feel comfortable being around me now?
She followed me into the kitchen, right as I placed them on the counter.
“Those were heavy.” I counted around eight bags. “You brought them all in yourself?”
She began pulling things out. “The doorman helped me get some stuff out, and some buddy he was with who kept singing.”
That must have been Anthony.
I pulled items out of the bag—eggs, milk, tomatoes, cheeses. I had no idea where she wanted everything, but I hoped I was helping, and I was very conscious of every step I took in that kitchen, not wanting to invade her privacy anymore.
Zuri's movements in the kitchen were methodical, every action precise and calculated. She didn't look at me while she unpacked the bags, as if too nervous or unsure.
Yet. . .for a moment, we were just inches apart, and I couldn't resist the urge to take in her scent—a mix of her perfume and something uniquely Zuri that I had missed so much. The fragrance brought a flood of memories, stirring emotions I had kept at bay all these years.
Goddamn it. I have to have her.
