Session 33

Chapter fifty

Me and Angel were in the therapist’s office. Dr. Bailey was a Black dude with dreads. I’d chosen him specifically because he was younger, and I felt like he’d understand me better, like he could actually help me. His office was nice—clean and modern, set up like the living room of a luxury high-rise. It felt more like I was at a friend’s place to talk than sitting in some sterile room having my head played with. Angel sat across from me, her gaze locked on me, wanting answers I wasn’t sure I could give. Dr. Bailey, sitting off to the side, nodded at her and then turned his attention to me.

“Cassius, it’s important that you address the questions Angel has. Let’s start with the one she’s been holding onto.”

Angel took a breath, her voice calm, but there was a weight to it that made my heart kick up. “Why didn’t you open the door that day?”

My stomach dropped. It was a question I’d been avoiding. But now, there was no escape. I looked down at my hands, gripping my knees, trying to find the words.

“I... I begged you to have our baby,” I started, my voice thick with emotions I didn’t want to feel. “I wanted it so bad, Angel. But then, when it all became real, I got scared. Fucking terrified, actually. I started telling myself I’d fuck everything up. My daddy was there, but he was running the street. He didn’t teach me shit about being a father.”

I could see her out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. I kept talking, needing to get it all out before I lost the nerve.

“After what happened with Solomon... when you told me to leave... I took it the wrong way. Felt like you were giving up on me, and I just shut down. I convinced myself that I didn’t care anymore.”

The words started pouring out faster, spilling in a rush. “And when you showed up at the house, pissed as hell... I saw you out there, and all I could think was, ‘If I open that door, I’ll only make things worse.’ Ciara was inside, and you were already mad... I didn’t know how to fix it. So I froze. I told myself to stay out of it, and I let you go.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Finally, I forced myself to look up at Angel. The pain in her eyes was hard to face.

“I need some air,” I muttered.

I stood up before anyone could say anything, heading for the door. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t turn back.

When I stepped outside, I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. But it wasn’t working. All I could think about was Angel moving on while I was left to deal with the mess I’d made—by my fucking self.

I leaned against the wall. The more I tried to hold it together, the more everything unraveled. My chest tightened, until finally, I broke. The tears came hard and fast, and sobs ripped through me. My legs gave out, and I slid down the wall, burying my face in my hands, choking on regret.

I hadn’t cried like this in years. Not even when my parents had died.

I didn’t hear the door open or notice when Angel walked out. But then, I felt her. She got down on her knees, her warm arms wrapping around me. I didn’t deserve shit from her, didn’t deserve her comfort, but I couldn’t push her away. I needed her.

“It’s going to be alright,” she whispered, her voice soft. “We’re going to figure this out. You’re not alone. You have family now, Cassius. We’ll get through this.”

Hearing her say “we” made me cry harder because there really wasn’t a “we” anymore.