Chapter 7 #2
“She’s going to need structure,” his mother continued. “Especially with the environment she’s being raised in.”
I looked up.
“What do you mean by that?”
Her expression didn’t change. “I mean expectations,” she said. “Children need to see discipline modeled early.”
I held her gaze carefully, and I refused to look away.
“Don’t worry about my child,” I said.
A quiet settled over the table.
His father cleared his throat slightly. “How’s work?” he asked, looking at me over his glass.
“It’s going well,” I said.
“We were so proud of you being appointed ADA last month.” Jonathan’s colleague nodded slowly.
“That’s impressive,” one of them added.
Carolyn smirked, “I’m sure the firm’s recommendation helped.”
There it was.
Her reminder that I didn’t earn anything I had here on my own.
“Yes,” I said evenly. “I’m grateful for the support.”
His mother set her fork down. “You’ll need to be careful,” she said.
“With?”
“The way you present yourself,” she replied. “That office requires a certain level of refinement, and no matter how much money Charles invests in your appearance, you still have those Crestwood ways about you that poke out at the most inopportune times.”
I slowly rocked Genny back and forth to keep me from crawling across this damn dinner table and showing her just how the fuck Crestwood girls got down.
The funny thing is, my mom did the same thing as Carolyn.
Once Jared went to jail, she moved us to the North End and tried to convert us into suburban girls.
But even my mom’s fake bourgeois ass hated Carolyn.
Charles finally spoke. “She’s doing fine,” he said.
I’m surprised he actually took up for me. It wasn’t the type of firm stance that I wanted, but I would take it. His interjection was just enough to move the conversation forward.
His mother nodded slightly, but didn’t push. The rest of dinner passed like that.
Carolyn made small, smart-ass comments. Her words were carefully worded observations.
Nothing that could be called disrespectful outright.
But nothing that felt like acceptance either.
By the time we stood to leave, I felt that quiet pressure that I had felt earlier again.
I wasn’t happy, and I had to find a way to get me and my baby girl the fuck out of here.
“Make sure you send over your updated case list,” his father said as we gathered our things. “It’s good to stay ahead.”
“I will,” I replied.
His mother walked us to the door.
“You have potential, Chanel,” she said.
I paused. Because I already knew what was coming next.
“You just need to make sure you don’t waste the opportunities you’ve been given.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
We stepped outside, the door closing softly behind us. I adjusted Genesis in my arms as Charles unlocked the car. Didn’t open it or assist me with putting Genny in her car seat.
Neither of us spoke right away.
“You okay?” he asked finally.
I looked at him and took in his calm expression.
At the man who had helped me build this life.
“I’m fine,” I said, as it was the answer I had learned to give.
By the time we got home, Genesis was fully asleep again.
Her head rested against my shoulder, her small body warm and heavy in my arms as I carried her upstairs. I moved carefully, out of habit, easing her into her crib without waking her.
She shifted slightly, then settled. I stood there for a moment. Just watching her. The soft rise and fall of her chest. The quiet sound of her breathing.
My baby was peaceful, unaware, and untouched by anything outside of this room. I reached down and adjusted her blanket gently.
My fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. There was a time I didn’t think I’d get this. I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to stand over my child and watch them sleep like this. To hear them breathe and to know they were here.
And even now in my happiness with Genesis that ache still came.
Grief.
I never got this with Xander. I swallowed it down the way I always did. I didn’t let it stay long enough to grow into something bigger. Because this…this was my life now. And I had learned how to live inside it.
* * *
Before bed, I sat at my desk flipping through another case file. Another name. Another charge. Another life being decided in a room that didn’t feel as heavy as it should have.
I paused with my pen hovering over the page.
There was a time when I thought I would be on the other side of this. Sitting next to someone like him. Fighting for him. Arguing that he deserved more than what the system was trying to give him.
Like Jared.
My chest tightened, and I closed the file.
Because the truth was, I wasn’t doing that.
I was building cases. Strengthening arguments. Making sure things stuck. I leaned back in my chair slowly, staring at nothing for a moment longer than I needed to. I knew how I got here. I just didn’t know when it stopped aligning with who I thought I was supposed to be.
My phone buzzed.
Kenya.
I stared at her name for a second before answering. I can’t remember the last time we spoke on the phone.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey, Baby Bear,” she replied, her voice warm like it always was. “Are you busy?”
“No,” I said, even though that wasn’t entirely true.
“How’s my niece?”
“She’s good. Growing too fast.”
Kenya laughed softly. “I told you that was gonna happen.”
I smiled a little, but it didn’t last.
“How have you been?” she asked.
I leaned back against the couch, already knowing what I was going to say.
“I’m good.”
There was a pause.
“You sure?” she asked gently.
I stared ahead, my eyes unfocused.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t call like you used to,” she said.
I exhaled quietly. “I’ve been busy.”
“With work?”
“With everything.”
“That doesn’t mean you gotta go quiet on me,” she said softly.
My throat tightened because I knew what she meant. She wasn’t talking about phone calls. She was talking about me. The way I had pulled back. The way I kept everything surface-level. The way I didn’t let her in anymore.
“I’m still here,” I said.
“I know,” she replied. “And I’m still right here, too.”
“I know.” But it didn’t feel the same. Not because of her.
She tried. She took the drive here a few times and I had my assistant tell her I was busy.
Because somewhere along the way, I had learned how to build a life that looked full without actually letting anything inside of it touch me and seeing her and Zayden hurt too fuckin’ bad.
Zayden resembled the love of my life too much.
When I saw his smile I saw Xavier’s and when I looked at Zayden all I could hear was his words unraveling my world.
After we hung up, I sat there for a while, the house quiet around me.
I could hear Genesis faintly through the monitor, her breathing soft and steady.
I looked around the room, at the furniture, the decor, the life I had built piece by piece. Everything was in place. Everything made sense. Everything looked like success.
And still, something felt missing.
Not loud enough to break anything. Not strong enough to make me walk away.
Just there.
I had everything I worked for. I just didn’t know if any of it was what I actually wanted, and for the first time in years, I felt a deep yearning in the pit of my stomach, and I realized that I would give anything to play the Michael Jackson Experience on the Wii with my best friend one more time.