8 | Simone
I was up before sunrise to meet up with a few of the members of Faith I just really hated confrontation. So, I wouldn’t say anything thinking I was keeping the peace.
“I can’t worry about her right now. Let’s just focus on what we’re here to do.”
We spent the entire morning walking through parks, under bridges, and past bus stops, handing out hygiene bags, and donuts while praying for people who asked, listening to stories that broke and mended our hearts in the same moment.
At one point, we prayed with an older woman named Cheryl who said she hadn’t had anyone speak life over her in years.
She cried, and we cried with her. And every time I glanced over…
Samaj was right there. Talking to people and offering juice and donuts like he was passing out gold.
Even Emaree kept giving me looks like: That’s a good man savannah.
I didn’t realize how much I’d been smiling until my cheeks started to hurt.
Later that afternoon, after I showered and settled in, I finished up my Crisis Intervention & Trauma class assignment before drifting off to sleep. I’m usually a heavy sleeper, but for some reason voices from the living room woke me up an hour into my nap.
We didn’t typically have company over, so I was curious to find out who GiGi was talking to. Quietly, I opened my bedroom door and was surprised to hear my aunt Moriah’s voice. Her tone was serious. Serious enough that my stomach knotted.
“How do you know it’s the same kid?”
“Samaj Stephens is not a common name.” I heard GiGi reply.
Every trace of sleep vanished at the mention of Samaj’s name.
“I thought Sam and Eric relocated. Have you kept in touch with them?”
“I haven’t heard from them since everything happened all those years ago.”
“I think it’s best if you don’t say anything. They may not even be talking a few weeks from now. You know how these kids are.”
“They’re not kids and you know Simone is not one to just casually date. I can tell she really likes him.”
“GiGi if you tell her, it will just make things complicated. The past needs to stay in the past.”
“It’s not much I can tell her anyway. It’s not like you ever told me the whole story. You purposely left Mia and I in the dark. Why you always got to get yourself in some mess? I don’t understand how you and Mia were so different.” I could hear the frustration in my grandmother’s voice.
“I know you always thought I was the devil's child while Mia was God’s gift to earth, but I really wish you and everyone else would stop comparing the two of us like we’re not two women with our own identities. Actually, let’s not talk about Mia at all before I get upset.”
“Moriah, I don't think of you that way. I think you have a lot of good in you. It’s your poor decisions that I don’t like.”
“I do what needs to be done. Sometimes it’s messy and I may look like the bad guy, but I stand behind everything I do.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. On one hand I wanted to make my presence known and start asking questions but on the other hand I wanted to see how much I could find out without them knowing I was eavesdropping.
“Do you think he ever told Samaj that he may not be his biological father?”
My breath caught.
“I doubt it,” GiGi replied. “They were so young, but the way Eric loved that woman, he would go to the ends of the earth for her. He promised her that he wouldn’t.”
“I have to go. I’ll see what I can find out and hopefully we can just pretend none of this ever happened.”
“What’s in the dark will always come out in the light. Stay out of trouble.” GiGi replied frankly.
I waited until the front door opened and closed before slipping back to my bed. I wanted to confront my grandmother and question everything I just heard, but something told me to hold off and see what information I could find out while they both still thought I was unaware.
The truth was difficult to process, so I could only imagine what it would do to Samaj. Even though he deserved to know, I didn’t know how or if I’d be able to tell him.
I felt trapped between two impossible choices. I didn’t want to betray him. But I didn’t want to hurt him either. And now I was carrying something heavy I never asked for.
Despite everything swimming in my head, I showed up the next morning to meet with the club to volunteer at a nearby nursing home. Samaj somehow convinced both Kadeem and Emon to tag along.
“Not ya’ll waking in here like a boy band about to perform. What’s ya’ll group name?” Emaree teased.
“Just so we’re clear this ain’t no boy band. I’m the lead and they’re my backup dancers.” Kadeem jested.
“It’s way too early for ya’ll two to be up to the foolishness.” Emon yawned.
The elderly ladies adored the guys instantly.
Kadeem walked in and said, “Which one of y’all want a grandson for the day?
” and got mobbed within seconds. Emon took over the nail-painting station and was surprisingly gentle and charismatic for a man who had tattoos covering half of his body.
Samaj played chess with two of the older men, deep in conversation like they were his uncles.
I watched him from across the room while Brianna and I learned how to crochet from a lovely woman that reminded me of GiGi.
This man who had swept into my life like a gentle storm. This man who was unknowingly living with a truth that could break him. This man whose laugh softened walls I didn’t even know I had.
I wanted to tell him everything. Every time he smiled, the secret felt heavier. But I also wanted to protect him. And somewhere between bingo cards and crochet lessons, I whispered a quiet prayer:
“God… I don’t know what to do but please help me. Show me how to care and protect your son and please don’t let this secret break him down more than he’s already been.”
At one point, I honestly wanted to back out of my plans with Ryan. I must’ve stared at the text message thread between us for a solid ten minutes, trying to convince myself to just type, “Hey, something came up…” But the people-pleaser in me wouldn’t let my fingers move.
I’ve always had a hard time saying no like telling someone I couldn’t do something automatically made me a bad person. And Ryan has been kind and hadn’t done anything wrong, and that somehow made it even harder.
But deep down, I knew my feelings for him weren’t going anywhere romantic.
Not past a friendship. Not past the surface-level warmth that comes with being around someone nice.
There was no spark. No tug in my chest. No pull I couldn’t explain.
Still, the thought of rejecting him made my stomach twist.