NIA
I stood with my hand pressed against the kitchen counter, responding to the questions the kids were shooting off at me.
The counter felt cool against my skin, grounding in a way I hadn't realized I needed.
The kitchen smelled like butter and syrup, the last batch of pancakes still sitting warm on the stove.
Plates scattered across the island. Cups half full of orange juice.
The kind of mess that used to feel like life.
Now it felt like something I was standing inside of and watching.
After we came back from vacation, Jules was gone, and he hadn't been back since we returned.
It had been about three weeks since. I decided this morning I'd get up, make the kids breakfast, and explain to them that me and their dad would be getting a divorce.
I had practiced the words in my head the night before.
Not how to say them, but how to say them without breaking.
Neither of them looked shocked at the news.
It was almost like they couldn't care less and had dealt with it already in their own way.
That part didn't hurt the way I thought it would. It settled in me instead.
Everybody except Jezel. My kids weren't stupid, they knew things had been rocky between me and their dad for a long time.
Children always know, even when you try to protect them from it.
They feel it anyway. Jezel was my hopeful child; she saw the good in everything and always wanted everything to work out for the better.
She believed in things fixing themselves.
In people coming back better than they left.
In love, staying the same just because you wanted it to.
This time, my baby wouldn't get her fairytale ending, and I needed her to understand that was okay, too.
That life didn't always give you clean endings. Sometimes it just gave you the truth.
"Y’all not gon start tryna split us up or nothin like that is y’all?" Juelz asked seriously, making Jezel smack her lips.
I looked over at him. He was trying to act like he didn't care.
But his shoulders were tight. His jaw set just a little too hard.
He needed control. Knowing where he stood gave him that.
"No," I said. "We'll stay in the house, and your dad will likely get a new place," I answered steady.
leaving no room for confusion. I saw relief in his eyes. It flickered quick, but it was there.
There was never a question about what would happen with the kids.
If Jules or anybody else thought otherwise, they were smoking dope.
My children were not something that would ever be negotiated.
That part of my life had always been clear.
“What has dad said about all of this?" Julise said, making me zone out. Her voice pulled something in me.
I hadn't talked to Jules. But I knew he wasn't happy.
Chiana and Amina told me so. They both said he'd shown up at their house late at night, drunk and raging.
I could see it without them telling me. The way he would pace.
The way his voice would drop low before it rose, and his anger sat on him like it was something he wore.
He also hadn't signed the papers. He left them on the nightstand with a pen laid on top, no signature.
That part didn't surprise me. Jules never struggled with knowing what something was. He struggled with accepting it.
I knew he wouldn't be happy, but a part of me didn't expect him to make this hard for me. That was the old version of me thinking. The version that still expected him to meet me where I had already grown to. But growth doesn't transfer.
You don't wake up one day and hand someone clarity and expect them to carry it the same way you do.
That's where I'd grown, and he hadn't. He knew this was over just like I did.
He just didn't want to face where we were in this lifetime.
Needless to say, I wasn't waiting for him to catch up.
"I don’t know, you should call and ask him," I mumbled, looking up at her.
My voice came out softer than I intended.
"Oh I have twice. he won't answer," she responded. Of course, he didn't. Jules didn't do conversations when he didn't feel in control of them. I swallowed that thought down before it could turn into something else.
"I just don’t feel like any of this is fair," Jezel said, interrupting us.
Her voice cracked at the end. I looked at her then.
Her eyes were glassy. Her lip was trembling like she was trying to hold it together and failing quietly.
Something in my chest tightened. Not enough to break me, but enough to remind me.
"Jezel, I don't know why you keep sitting up there crying.
Let it go, Elsa," Juelz said, turning his nose up, waving her off.
Julise snickered across the table, trying to hide her laugh.
He could be so damn insensitive. But I knew where it came from.
It was defense, because I didn't want to feel it either.
"Hey, she's entitled to her feelings, Juelz.
Be nice." I said, eyeing him. He rolled his eyes but leaned back in his chair anyway.
Silence settled over the table for a second.
I wiped my hands slowly on a towel before walking around the island.
I stopped beside Jezel and rested my hand on her shoulder.
She leaned into me immediately. "Come here," I said softly.
She stood up and wrapped her arms around my waist tight, Like she was trying to hold something in place.
I rested my chin on the top of her head.
Her hair smelled like coconut oil and the shampoo I'd been using on her since she was little.
That scent alone almost pulled me somewhere else.
Back to when things were simpler. Before I understood how complicated love could become.
"It's okay to feel like that," I said quietly.
"It don't feel okay," she whispered into my shirt.
I closed my eyes briefly. She was right.
It didn't feel okay. But not feeling okay didn't mean something was wrong.
It just meant something was real. "I know," I said.
"But just because something don't feel fair don't mean it's not right. "
The words settled between us. She pulled back just enough to look at me.
Her expression was confused and hurt, trying to understand something bigger than her.
"How is this right?" she asked. That question used to scare me.
Because I didn't have an answer I believed in.
Now I did. Not a perfect one. But a true one.
“Because sometimes people love each other and still aren't supposed to stay together," I said.
Her brows pulled together. That didn't fit the version of love she knew.
The version I had shown her. Guilt tried to creep in, but it didn't land the way it used to.
Because I wasn't lying to her anymore. Or to myself.
"I still love your dad," I continued. The words came out calm.
"But loving somebody don't mean you stay somewhere you not whole at.
" The kitchen went quiet again. Even Juelz looked up at that.
Julise stopped fidgeting with her fork. I prayed they understood the truth that showed up.
They might not understand it fully. But I hope they recognize it.
"I stayed a long time because I thought that's what I was supposed to do," I said.
My voice stayed even. But I could feel the weight of those years behind it.
"I thought being a wife meant holding everything together no matter what it cost me.
" Jezel blinked slowly. Like she was trying to follow.
"It cost you?" she asked.
A small question, but it landed heavy. I nodded once.
"It cost me parts of myself I didn't even realize I was losing.
" That was the part I hadn't been able to say before.
Because I didn't know it then. I only knew how to endure.
How to keep going and survive. But survival and living weren't the same thing.
"I don't want you growing up thinking that's what love is," I said, brushing my thumb under her eye, catching a tear before it fell.
"I want you to know you can love somebody and still choose yourself.
" Her face softened slightly. Not because she understood fully.
But because she trusted me. That trust humbled me in a way nothing else could.
Behind her, I saw Juelz looking down at his plate again.
Julise glanced between us. Taking it all in.
They were listening. Even in their silence.
"Okay, if y’all have no more questions, finish eating and go upstairs and get dressed.
We need to go shopping for Auntie Ayida’s baby shower today. " I said, smiling. The smile came easy.
"Is it really a baby shower if she already got the baby?
" Juelz asked, "And where does she get a baby from anyway? I don’t remember her being pregnant.
" He continued looking at me curiously. Juelz and his mouth was gon be the death of me.
He didn't filter or sit with things before he said them.
He just put them out. The way truth sometimes came out of children before it had time to be dressed up.
"Juelz, don’t say no shit like that again. Finish your food so we can get ready to go." I said, squinting and pointing my finger at him. He looked at me for a second like he was deciding whether or not to say something else. Then he shrugged and went back to his plate.
I walked away down the hall to get dressed for the day. Jules' side of the bed was still made. The way space could feel like it was saying something without speaking. Now it just existed. Like everything else that had shifted. I walked over to the closet, pulling the door open.