Chapter 21
Trill-Land, ‘LoLux Estate
One week later…
Once again, a nigga was fuckin’ up bad. I knew I was on my wife’s shit list, and this time it felt different ‘cause she wasn’t yellin’, wasn’t cryin’, wasn’t even throwin’ slick comments my way.
She was quiet in a way that made my fuckin’ skin itch.
She was numb in a way I couldn’t talk my way out of, and that scared me more than her ever raisin’ her voice.
That kitchen meltdown had been a week ago, but the echo of it still lived in this house.
I got the sink fixed the next day, had a whole crew come through like nothin’ ever happened, replaced cabinets, polished floors, handled every single thing I tore up like money could erase the memory of me losin’ my shit.
The crib looked perfect again, and cleaner than it ever had been, but the space between me and Toni felt wider every mornin’ I woke up and saw her on the other side of the bed with her back turned.
That first mornin’ after, I woke up early and went out to get flowers, not no cheap shit either.
I bought the shit with thick stems and petals that stayed alive longer than they was supposed to.
I set them on her nightstand before she woke up and watched her eyes land on them when she finally opened them.
She nodded once, said thank you, then got up and went about her day like the damn flowers was just somethin’ that existed in the room.
The next day I did it again, but bought flowers with different colors. It was the same result.
By the third day, I started washin’ her clothes even though we had maids for that.
I stood in the laundry room readin’ tags and separating colors like my life depended on it, foldin’ her shit slow and careful even though I don’t even fold my own.
I lined her clothes up the way she liked them, laid her pajamas out on the bed, put her towels in the bathroom, stocked her bath with all her smell goods and oils and candles.
I made sure the water was hot when she wanted to soak.
I brought her tea at night. I rubbed her feet without askin’.
I tried to kiss her neck and she let me, but her body didn’t soften the way it used to.
Every day for a week I tried, and every day she stayed just as far away from me as she could while still livin’ in the same house.
She wouldn’t give me no pussy, and I wasn’t mad at that part like I would have been before ‘cause I knew sex wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that she ain’t feel safe with me no more, and no amount of dick could fix that.
Every time I tried to talk to her about it, she had an attitude that didn’t even feel like anger.
It felt like exhaustion, like she ain’t have the energy to fight me no more.
I wasn’t used to that. I was used to Toni fightin’, cussin’, cryin’, forgivin’ and lovin’ me back through my bullshit. I wasn’t used to this version of her who looked at me like she was already halfway gone.
By the end of the week, that shit was eatin’ at me.
That evenin’, I found her on the patio, sittin’ in one of the low chairs by the water with her legs crossed, her hair pulled back, blunt lit and stare locked on the waves like she was watchin’ somethin’ only she could see.
The sun was droppin’ low, paintin’ the sky in gold and orange, and she ain’t even look up when I stepped outside.
I walked over slow and sat beside her, lifted her legs gentle and set them across my lap like I had done a thousand times before. She let me do it, but her body stayed stiff, and that hurt more than her pullin’ away would have.
“I miss you,” I said low, rubbin’ her calf with my thumb.
She looked at me for half a second, her eyes blank, then turned back to the water and took another pull from her blunt like I ain’t said shit.
That made somethin’ hot rise in my chest ‘cause one thing I hate more than anything is bein’ ignored.
“You gon’ keep actin’ like I don’t exist?” I asked, keepin’ my voice even, even though my jaw was tight.
She exhaled smoke slow and finally spoke. “I’m tired of talkin’.”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “I’m sittin’ right here.”
She laughed, but it was hollow. “So.”
I shook my head. “You know that shit ain’t you.”
She turned to me then, and her eyes had nothin’ in them I could grab on to. “I’m sick of you, Kay’Lo.”
The words hit, but I ain’t flinch. I just nodded. “Okay. You sick of me. Cool. How can I make you get unsick of me? I miss you.”
She stared at me like she was lookin’ at a stranger. “I don’t know, and I don’t care no more.”
That was when it finally sunk in that this wasn’t no regular argument, and I felt somethin’ twist in my stomach that didn’t feel like anger or pride. It felt like loss creep in before it even happened.
“I’m tryin’,” I said, softer now. “I know I fucked up.”
She shook her head. “You always say that.”
“I’m serious.”
“You always serious after,” she said. “Then it be the same shit again.”
I ran my hand down my face and leaned back in my chair. “What you want from me?”
She took another pull, flicked ash into the tray, and spoke like she was talkin’ about the weather. “You don’t give a fuck about my mental health.”
That one stopped me cold.
“What,” I said.
“You hear me,” she continued, her voice flat. “Everything always about you. Your moods. Your head. Your problems. You don’t see what this do to me.”
“That ain’t true,” I said quick.
“It is,” she replied. “And I’m tired of tryna save you.”
I felt my throat tighten. “I ain’t ask you to save me.”
She shrugged. “You don’t have to. I do it anyway.”
We sat there quiet for a moment, the water movin’ slow in front of us, the sound of it feelin’ too loud.
“I don’t even care to fix this shit no more,” she said finally. “If you wanna take me down with you, then fuck it. We can burn together for all I give a fuck.”
That hurt in a way I couldn’t hide. I swallowed hard and looked away ‘cause I ain’t never wanted that for her.
“That ain’t what I want,” I said.
“But that’s what’s happenin’,” she replied.
She finished her blunt, stubbed it out, stood up, and walked away without even lookin’ back at me.
I stayed there, her legs gone from my lap, and the chair feelin’ colder than it did a second ago. The sun dipped lower, and I sat there knowin’ I was runnin’ out of chances, knowin’ that all the flowers and folded clothes in the world wouldn’t mean shit if I ain’t do what I needed to do.
I watched her disappear back inside the house, and I stayed outside longer than I needed to, listenin’ to the water, feelin’ the weight of everything I’d done and everything I might still lose sittin’ heavy on me.
Shit was bad between us, and I ain’t know how to fix it.
Days Later…
It was one in the fuckin’ mornin’ and Toni wasn’t answerin’ my calls…
I had walked all over this damn mansion so much that my footsteps probably made a whole path in the marble.
I couldn’t sit down, I couldn’t pace in one spot, and I couldn’t stop lookin’ at my phone like Toni was gon’ magically call back if I stared at her name long enough.
She had turned her location off and she ain’t never turn her location off on me ‘cause she knew I ain’t play that shit.
She had been gone since earlier and I was tryin’ not to think the worst, but here a nigga was feelin’ my chest heat up ‘cause nothin’ about this shit felt normal.
I called again, already knowin’ she wasn’t gon’ answer, and the shit went to voicemail so damn fast that I knew she hit that decline button with force.
“Man, what the fuck is you doin’, Toni,” I muttered, rubbin’ my hand over my head ‘cause this wasn’t no regular argument we had earlier. This was that deep shit where her silence felt louder than her yellin’.
We had been into it earlier, and she walked out talkin’ about she tired of dealin’ with me actin’ wild every time I fall off my meds.
She kept sayin’ I ain’t take shit serious, and I don’t listen, and I kept tellin’ her she naggin’ and bein’ dramatic when really I just ain’t wanna hear the truth from her.
She was fed up, rollin’ her eyes and packin’ her lil’ purse like she swore she was done with me, but I knew she wasn’t.
She loved me too much, and that’s exactly why her not answerin’ now had my whole chest cavin’.
I ain’t know who else to call. Pressure was the only nigga who understood what it felt like to love a woman so hard that the shit made you stupid, so I pulled up his name and hit call.
He answered on the second ring with the babies cryin’ so loud in the background I had to pull the phone away for a second.
“Wussup?” He answered, soundin’ tired like the nigga been fightin’ them newborns all night.
“Bro… Toni not answerin’ me.” I started pacin’ again, walkin’ past the long ass window in the hallway. “She been gone all fuckin’ day like she ain’t married, and it’s one in the mornin’. Somethin’ feel wrong. Tell Pluto to hit her up.”
Pressure sighed, but not on no calm shit. More like he was irritated but still listenin’, the way he get when he know I’m spiralin’ again. “Pluto wit’ her,” he said. “They left together earlier.”
“Well call Pluto then!” My voice came out harder than I meant it to, but fuck it. I wasn’t apologizin’. “Tell her to tell Toni check her phone or somethin’. I been callin’ all damn night, and she sendin’ me straight to voicemail like she bold.”
Pressure didn’t even waste time arguin’. “A’ight. Lemme call her. Pluto know to answer that damn phone for me.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’,” I snapped, pacin’ again as my stomach tightened. “Toni been gone all fuckin’ day and she not pickin’ up for me at all.”
“I hear you,” he said, his tone shiftin’ like he finally picked up how serious I was. “Hold on. I’m finna call her right now.”
I heard Kaylon screamin’ in the background and Prestyn babblin’, but Pressure ain’t complain about it. He just clicked over quick ‘cause when it came to my girl and his, he jumped just like I jumped.
Finally, Pressure clicked back over. “Bro… she answered.”
My whole body stopped mid-step. “And?”
“She said she busy and she gon’ call me back.”
I froze, my eyebrow twitchin’. “Busy doin’ what? It’s one in the fuckin’ mornin’, bro.”
Pressure sounded annoyed now too. “She hung up soon as she said it. Didn’t even ask how her damn kids was doin’.”
“See?” I wiped my hand down my face. “Nigga, somethin’ off. Pluto don’t act like that unless they around some shit they know we wouldn’t like.”
Pressure went quiet for half a second like the picture finally clicked in his mind. Then he said exactly what I expected.
“A’ight, bro. I’m loadin’ the kids in the car. I’m not playin’ with them tonight.”
“I’m on the way,” I said, already grabbin’ my keys and walkin’ out.
When I pulled up, Pressure was outside in sweats and a hoodie with both babies in car seats on the ground in front of him. Kaylon was fussy as hell and Prestyn was kickin’ just ‘cause he felt like it.
Pressure looked pissed and tired at the same time. “Bro, grab one of these babies so we can go.”
I grabbed Kaylon’s car seat by the handle and shook my head.
Pressure locked the front door and jogged to the truck. “Pluto got me out here bein’ a single father for no reason. They bet not be out here showin’ they ass.”
We got the babies in the back and Pressure climbed in the driver’s seat with this frustrated exhale that came from a place deeper than annoyance.
“You got her location on?” I asked as he pulled out the driveway.
“Yup.” He tapped his phone on the screen. “She at some fuckin’ lounge.”
“Man…” I dragged my hand down my face. “What the fuck they doin’ at a lounge at one in the mornin’ when they both married women?”
Pressure kept drivin’, but his mouth started movin’ faster the more he thought about it.
“Man, she ain’t even ask if I was straight.
She know I been over here fightin’ for my life wit’ a newborn and a one-year-old.
Kaylon shittin’ back-to-back and Prestyn runnin’ laps like he trainin’ for somethin’.
I reheated my food three times and still ain’t touched it.
She got me over here feelin’ abandoned as hell. ”
I stared at him for a second then burst out laughin’. “Nigga, let me find out you goin’ through postpartum.”
Pressure side-eyed me hard, but he couldn’t help laughin’ too. “Fuck you, nigga. You know I’m right.”
I let out a breath ‘cause he wasn’t lyin’. “Nigga… I’m feelin’ that same shit. Toni got me mad as hell. She know I don’t like her bein’ gone all damn day, and she still cut her location off like she single.”
Pressure nodded, lookin’ at the road but talkin’ like he was ventin’ for both of us. “They out here actin’ like they ain’t got responsibilities.”
“I don’t like it,” I said, my voice low ‘cause the worry was kickin’ in just as hard as the anger.
Pressure breathed out hard, almost like he was tryna shake the irritation out his bones. “Man… I swear if they somewhere actin’ like they ain’t got no rings on, I’m draggin’ everybody out that bitch.”
“And I’m right behind you,” I said ‘cause I was dead ass.
The babies made noise in the back, and we both turned around at the same time like two stressed out parents even though only one of us had kids in the car.
Kaylon kicked in his sleep, and Pressure let out a frustrated groan. “Look at this shit. They got us out here with kids in the backseat trackin’ locations. What kinda life is this.”
“This that married life where the wives think they the only ones allowed to act crazy,” I said.
Pressure nodded slow. “Not tonight.“
We looked at each other, both of us fed up, worried and irritated the exact same way.
“Bro…” I said, my voice low. “This shit crazy.”
Pressure tightened his grip on the wheel. “We gon’ find they ass.”
We rode like this the whole time, both of us irritated, both of us worried, and both of us tryna hold on to whatever sanity we had left.
Pressure pulled into a lot across from the lounge where Pluto location was pingin’. Music from inside rattled the windows and a line of people was still outside even though it was late.
Pressure turned the truck off and looked at me. “A’ight. I’m goin’ in.”
“With both babies?” I asked.
He blinked slow. “You holdin’ the babies. You the godfather. Congratulations.”
He unbuckled his seatbelt and pointed at me like he was assigning a mission. “Don’t let nobody touch my kids. Don’t let nobody breathe too close to my kids. Don’t let nobody come up to the window, and if somebody look suspicious, throw somethin’ at they ass.”
I shook my head ’cause he really meant that shit.
He got out and shut the door hard, then pulled his hood up and walked toward the club like a man about to drag two women out by they fuckin’ wigs.