Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
KAIZLEIGH
By the time we finished eating, my heart didn't feel nearly as heavy as it had a few hours earlier.
Miss Lorraine always had a way of making this house feel like home, even on the days I wanted to crawl into bed and disappear from the world.
No matter what time it was she would get in that kitchen and cook a full course Sunday dinner for me and my husband.
Billion held my hand as we made our way upstairs.
Halfway down the hallway, he pulled me toward him.
"What?" I asked, already smiling.
He wrapped his arms around my waist.
"I missed you."
I laughed softly.
"You've been with me all day."
"I know."
"So how could you miss me?"
He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine.
"Because today I couldn't have you."
My smile slowly faded.
I knew exactly what he meant.
His lips found mine, gentle and patient, the kind of kiss that didn't ask for anything except for me to stay right there with him.
When we finally pulled apart, I searched his face.
"I wish things were different," I whispered.
"They will be."
"You don't know that."
"No," he admitted. "But I'm going to believe it until you can again."
A lump formed in my throat.
God...
How did I get so lucky?
I reached for the buttons on his shirt anyway.
He smiled.
"What you doing?"
"Trying to love on my husband."
His hand gently covered mine before I could unbutton another one.
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
His eyes softened.
“I know you do."
He brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"But your body's been through enough this week."
The reminder hit me harder than I expected. Just three days ago I'd lost another baby. The bleeding hadn't completely stopped, and my doctor had made it very clear that my body needed time to heal. As much as I wanted him to fuck me through the floor...Tonight wasn't about that.
Billion kissed my forehead.
"Come on."
He walked me into the bathroom and started the water for me like he always did after long days.
While the tub filled, I opened the medicine cabinet.
The orange prescription bottle was sitting exactly where I'd left it.
Clomid.
My fingers wrapped around it before I slowly twisted the cap off.
This was the third time my doctor had prescribed it.
The third time I'd counted pills. The third time I'd prayed over tiny tablets that promised to increase my chances of becoming a mother.
I shook the pills into my hand and stared at them for a long moment.
Some women took vitamins before bed. I took everything to become a mother. One swallow at a time. I grabbed the glass of water sitting beside the sink and washed them down. Behind me, Billion quietly stepped into the bathroom.
He didn't say anything. He simply wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder while we both looked at our reflections in the mirror. Neither one of us spoke. There wasn't anything left to say. We'd already cried and prayed.
After a nice hot bath, I crawled in bed and fell asleep to avoid thinking about anything that had to do with parenting.
Sleep didn't stay with me long.
When I opened my eyes, the room was still dark. I rolled over and looked at the clock on Billion's nightstand.
4:47 a.m.
I let out a quiet sigh before turning my attention to my husband.
He was still sound asleep beside me, one arm stretched across the bed where I'd been lying just moments before.
Looking at him always did something to me.
Even after everything we'd been through, he still slept close enough to reach for me without realizing it.
Carefully, I slipped out from underneath the covers, making sure I didn't wake him. The last thing he needed was another sleepless night because of me.
I pulled one of his black robes over my shoulders and quietly stepped into the hallway, easing the bedroom door shut behind me.
The house was peaceful this time of morning.
No meetings, no phones ringing and no staff moving around downstairs.
It was silent.
I wrapped the robe tighter around my body as I slowly walked through the hallway. The marble glass tiles were cool beneath my feet, and the first hints of daylight were beginning to peek through the tall windows overlooking the front of the estate.
Whenever I couldn't sleep, I walked. Sometimes I'd make tea. Sometimes I'd sit out on the back patio and watch the sun come up. This morning, I didn't really know where I was going. My feet were simply moving before my mind could catch up.
As I passed the family portraits hanging along the wall, I smiled to myself.
Billion at ten years old holding a basketball almost as big as he was.
His high school graduation. Our wedding day.
His parents dancing at one of the foundation galas.
Every picture reminded me that I hadn't just married a man.
I'd married into generations of love. I kept walking until I reached the end of the hallway.
That's when I stopped. The white door stood exactly where it always had.
I'd spent months pretending it wasn't there.
Some days I'd walk past it without even looking.
Other days, I'd stop exactly where I was standing now, staring at the handle like opening it would somehow hurt less than it did the last time.
I reached for the knob before I could change my mind. The room greeted me with the same silence it always had. Everything still the same, no movement…just there. The rocking chair still sat in the corner beside the bookshelf.
The white crib rested beneath the window.
Stuffed animals lined the shelves. Tiny books waited to be read.
A folded baby blanket still rested over the side of the crib exactly where I'd left it.
I slowly walked farther inside, running my fingertips along the smooth wood of the crib.
We'd picked this room out together. Billion wanted gray walls. I wanted cream.
He lost.
I smiled through the memory before my eyes settled on the little wooden sign hanging above the crib.
Dream Big, Little One.
My chest tightened.
We had built an entire room around a dream. And every time I walked inside it, I couldn't help wondering if the only thing that would ever live in here...was hope.
I reached over and picked up the tiny pair of white baby shoes sitting on the dresser. They couldn't have been more than three inches long. My mama bought them before I was ever pregnant. I smiled to myself, shaking my head. Leave it to Denise Brooks to buy baby shoes before there was even a baby.
She used to say speaking blessings out loud wasn't enough.
"You gotta make room for 'em too."
Every Christmas, Mother's Day, or birthday she found some way to sneak another baby gift into my house.
Whether it was an outfit, a children's book, stuffed elephant, a picture frame she'd swear was for my first ultrasound.
I'd fuss at her every single time.
"Mama, stop buying this stuff."
She'd wave me off.
"You gon' need it."
Then she'd kiss my forehead like the conversation was over.
I swallowed hard. She'd been gone almost six years now.
Breast cancer…By the time they found it...It had already spread.
I was twenty-seven years old when I buried my best friend.
Some days I still reached for my phone to call her before remembering she wasn't here anymore. I used to imagine what she'd be like as a grandmother.
She would've spoiled my babies rotten. Probably would've had them calling her Mama Dee instead of Grandma because she swore grandmothers sounded old.
A laugh escaped my lips before disappearing just as quickly.
I looked around the nursery. Everything in this room carried a piece of somebody I loved.
The rocking chair came from Billion's mama.
The bookshelf was built by his daddy. Miss Lorraine crocheted the blue blanket folded over the crib.
The little elephant sitting in the corner came from my mama.
Sometimes I wondered if that was why I couldn't bring myself to pack this room away. It wasn't just waiting on a baby anymore. It was holding memories of the people who believed that a baby would come. I sat down in the rocking chair and gently pushed myself back.
The room creaked softly around me. Billion had asked me more than once if I wanted him to turn the nursery into something else.
An office, sitting room, or a library. Every single time...I told him no.
I don’t know I just felt like as long as this nursery was still standing...some small part of me still believed one day I'd walk through this door carrying my child.
The nursery door creaked behind me.
I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"You disappeared on me."
A smile found my face before I even looked over my shoulder.
"I was trying not to wake you."
Billion stood in the doorway wearing a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, his hair still messy from sleep. He rubbed a hand across his beard before looking around the room.
"I reached over and you was gone."
"I couldn't sleep."
"I figured."
His eyes slowly traveled around the nursery before settling back on me.
"I should've checked here first."
I looked down at the little elephant in my lap.
"I didn't mean to worry you."
"You ain't."
He walked over and rested one hand on the back of the rocking chair before looking around the room again.
"I just don't like waking up and you not beside me."
My heart squeezed. He pulled the rocking chair beside mine a little closer before sitting down. For a minute, neither one of us said anything. The morning sun was beginning to come up.
Billion looked around the room before letting out a slow breath.
"You remember painting this?"
A small smile crossed my face.
"You got paint on your watch."
He looked over at me.
"The watch cleaned off."
"The walls almost didn't."
He laughed under his breath.
"I wasn't that bad."
I finally turned toward him.
"You tracked paint through half the house."
"I was supervising."
"You was making a mess."
"I was making memories."
I shook my head.