Beginning #3
Jules and his lawyer stepped through the gate together, Mr. Simnole talking, gesturing with one hand, Jules listening but not really looking at him.
He was dressed the same way he'd been when he went in, plain, dark clothes, nothing extra.
Like time hadn't touched him at all. A thick folder was tucked under his arm, papers pressed tight against his side like something he needed to keep control over.
I pulled into a parking space and shifted into park.
Before I could even breathe, the kids were opening their doors.
"Daddy!" Juelz yelled, already halfway out of the truck.
They ran toward him all at once, backpacks bouncing, shoes kicking up dust. I stayed where I was, hands resting in my lap, watching through the windshield as Jules dropped the folder and opened his arms. All three of them crashed into him.
He wrapped them up tight, one arm around each, his head dipping down like he was trying to fold himself around them.
His shoulders shook once, quick and gone, but I saw it.
I saw the way his jaw clenched like he was holding something back.
He held them like he was afraid that if he let go, they might disappear.
The sight of it softened something in me I hadn't realized was clenched.
I smiled before I could stop myself. There was joy on my kids' faces.
It was real joy, unguarded, loud. I hadn't seen it like that in a long time.
It made my chest feel warm and heavy at the same time.
Pride mixed with sadness. Relief tangled with something else I didn't have a name for.
I noticed Mr. Simnole shading his eyes, looking toward the truck. Looking for me. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out, closing the door gently behind me. The gravel shifted under my shoes as I walked halfway toward them, stopping short. Close enough to be present. Far enough not to intrude.
Mr. Simnole reached me first. "How you holding up?" he asked, pulling me into a quick hug.
"I'm alright," I said automatically.
Jules still hadn't looked at me.
His attention stayed on the kids. His hands were moving over their heads, tugging Juelz closer, smoothing Jezel's hair, squeezing Julise's shoulder like he needed to feel all of them at once. Like if he acknowledged me, something else might surface. I didn't force it.
"All right, Mr. St. Jean," Mr. Simnole said, clearing his throat. "Remember, you're out on bond. Keep your head tight and wait for me to call you. We'll be in touch."
He turned to me and nodded. "Y'all take care." Then he was gone, walking back toward his car, leaving the rest of us standing there with no script to follow.
Silence settled in. The kids shifted, still buzzing, still close to Jules.
Julise stepped back first, her eyes flicking to me and then away.
Jezel hovered between us, unsure where to stand.
Juelz clung to Jules' arm like he might float off if he didn't hold tight.
I cleared my throat. "Come on," I said, keeping my voice even.
"So we can get back. Y'all need to eat and get ready for school tomorrow.
" It wasn't the right thing to say. It wasn't the wrong thing either.
It was just something to keep us moving.
I turned around and walked back toward the truck without waiting to see if anyone followed.
The doors opened behind me one by one. Julise climbed into the third row and slid all the way back, pressing her forehead to the window.
Jules lifted Jezel and Juelz into their seats, fastening their seatbelts carefully, like he needed the routine to ground him.
Then he climbed into the passenger seat, movements stiff, controlled.
I pulled away from the prison lot, dust rising behind us.
I turned the radio up just enough to fill the space but not enough to demand attention.
The road stretched ahead, familiar and unfamiliar all at once.
Nobody spoke for a few minutes. I focused on driving.
On the curve of the road. On the sound of tires on pavement.
On anything that didn't require me to look at him directly.
"Did you bring my phone?" Jules asked, finally.
His voice sounded the same. Lower than most. Flat.
Like it always had when he was keeping himself in check.
I nodded once and pointed toward the glove compartment.
He opened it and pulled the phone out, turning it over in his hands like he needed to confirm it was real.
"Thanks," he said quietly. That was it. I kept my eyes on the road.
We made it home after about a forty-five-minute ride.
The house waited for us at the end of this drive.
The same house that would now have to adjust again.
I didn't know what this version of family would look like, and I didn't know where I fit in it anymore.
We stopped and got pizza. The kids ate like they hadn't eaten in days, grease on their fingers, laughter too loud for the hour.
Jules made sure everybody showered and brushed their teeth, voices drifting down the hallway as he reminded them of school in the morning.
I stood in the kitchen wiping the counters down, sipping a glass of wine I didn't even remember pouring.
Things felt weird. I hated feeling awkward in my own house.
"It's no point in him being home if y'all gon be weird and not talk to each other," Julise said from the end of the hallway, snapping my thoughts in half.
"You ain't even speak to Daddy, Ma. Y'all didn't even hug. "
"Julise, what?" I said, caught off guard.
She stood there with her arms crossed, that same hard look she'd been wearing more and more lately. "You heard me."
"Julise, you better watch your lil smart ass mouth," I snapped. "I'm getting real sick of you testing the limits with me." She rolled her eyes. "Get the hell out of my face." I heard her door slam hard enough to shake the hallway.
I finished the wine in one swallow and poured another, then finished that too.
I leaned against the counter, head in my hand.
I had hoped, quietly and stupidly, that once her daddy was home, she'd soften again.
That something would snap back into place.
But she had seen too much. Heard too much.
Paid attention when I thought she wasn't. She was my mirror, whether I liked it or not.
"Nia." His voice came from behind me, low, close.
I straightened automatically. My back was to his chest. I hadn't even heard him come into the kitchen.
He breathed me in before turning me around, hands firm on my waist. It was the first time in over a year that he looked me in my eyes.
I saw everything we'd survived sitting there between us.
I didn't think. I reached up and pulled his face to mine, kissed him like I was searching for proof or confirmation. For something solid I could hold onto.
He kissed me back, picking me up, making me wrap my legs around him.
His lips moved in sync with mine as he carried me to the bedroom.
He kicked the door closed behind us, letting me down.
I dropped to my knees in an instant, his belt and briefs following quickly.
His dick sprang out, brushing the side of my face, before I grabbed it, wrapping my hand around it.
My mouth watered at the sight. Jules’s dick wasn't just long, it was thick and veiny.
He tore my young ass up the first time we ever had sex, but he turned my young ass out, too.
I took his dick in the back of my throat, massaging his balls while I looked up at him.
His head was throwed back and his big hands were gripping my short hair.
I pulled back, letting the precum drip onto my lips before licking it off.
I took him back in my mouth until he reached my throat.
When he did, I started gurgling, making his moans and groans go rougher.
I tightened the suction in my mouth around him like I was sucking ice cream out of a straw.
I felt him grip my hair tighter, pulling me back off him, making me release him with a popping noise.
His hand switched around to my chin as he brought my face to his, kissing me deeply.
I stepped back pulling my clothes off quick letting them fall to the floor.
He pushed me back on the bed, staring at me as he pulled his shirt over his head.
He moved toward the bed and hovered over me.
Jules pent my arms above my head before circling my right nipple with his tongue.
I watch him grab his dick with his free hand before stuffing it inside of me, making me shiver and moan out loudly.
He stroked in and out of me before speeding up his pace, pounding into me.
He was so deep in me it damn near felt like my body was about to fold up.
I stuck my tongue in his mouth as he continued to pick up his pace.
He let go of my arms, letting me wrap them around him, pulling him into me deeper.
In four deep strokes, I was shaking and humming, unable to hold myself together.
I felt his body grow stiff, and he growled before latching onto my neck and releasing his nut inside me.
We lay there in that position, breathing heavy, for a couple of minutes before he flipped us over, where I was lying on his chest, and he pulled the cover up over us.
After a few minutes, his snores started to fill the room.
I curled closer to him, resting my head on his chest, listening to his breathing even out.
His arm stayed around me, heavy and possessive in sleep.
I stared at the wall. This wasn't reassurance, nor was this a repair. It was a habit. Comfort. Memory pretending to be a connection. "I love you," I whispered anyway.
The words didn't land anywhere. They didn't come back to me.
They just disappeared.