Zoya #3
He pulled my hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I’d do it all again for y’all, Bean.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I tossed my arms around him. His body tensed up, and I didn’t care. I held onto him as I cried into his shoulder. Life had been so hard on him, and I had been even harder.
Didn’t extend him grace when he deserved it.
I could recognize that he may have not done everything correctly, and had done things that hurt me, but that doesn’t take away the fact that this man put me through college and law school.
He made sure we never needed anyone for anything and never asked for anything back. His job was considered done seeing us be successful, even if we never wanted to spend a holiday with him.
I felt his arm wrap around me slowly, and he squeezed me. “I don’t get it right always… I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Bean.”
“I never wanted you to die. I was so hurt. I’m so sorry.” My voice was muffled as I held onto him tightly.
I melted into my brother’s arms, feeling like years of pain and anger were slipping away from me. The hatred that I had for him over a man that never mattered felt so juvenile. I wished I could take the words back, but I couldn’t do that.
Sometimes you said shit that hurt and burned, and you could never take it back, no matter how hard you tried.
“I fucking love you, Bean. Never question that my love isn’t real. I don’t care who your mother is and how you got here. You are a Caselli, and you are my baby sister. Ight?”
I pulled back and wiped my face with his shirt, and I watched his jaw clench.
“He about to beat the fuck out you,” Don muttered.
“I’m pregnant, Maverick… I’m so sorry. I know I was supposed to go to Morgan State.” I sniffled wiping my eyes.
He sighed. “You were supposed to take us out the hood… you had a full ride, and you go and do this…for the fucking basketball player?”
“He’s a football player and I lo—”
“What the fuck is going on?” Don blurted, basically saying that nothing we had to say was important.
“You fucking selfish, Don. She’s telling us about her pregnancy, and you do this?” he sniffled, wiping his own face.
Don stood up, pulling me to my feet, and then helped Maverick up on his. “You both are cracked the fuck out… I’m going to get a plate of food. Your wife is there and expecting an apology.”
“Already knowing… screamed at her.”
“Scared the fuck out of me,” I mumbled.
He looked at me and laughed. “I failed her.”
Now it was both me and Don’s turn to be confused. Getting inside of Maverick’s head felt weird. It felt like I was being allowed access into a place that had a restricted sign. This was a place only reserved for four people.
Corleon, Jeffie, Stevie, and Kora.
No one else had been allowed to understand the man that was Maverick Menace Caselli. I, now held a pass that was being welcomed into the crazy brain of us.
“How you figure, Mens?” Don questioned.
Out of all of us, Don was the lover. He asked questions and wanted to know because he cared, not because he was nosey. He loved to reassure us, even when we didn’t want to receive it.
As a sister, I failed because I never offered those things back. It wasn’t until I met Navy that I understood what she did for him. What she and her family did for him. He was the baby, and we often forgot that he lost parents and had to go through life without them too.
“They tried to kill her, Don.”
“And you sent the message. Why the fuck do you keep beating yourself up about it?”
He looked away. “Cause I pride myself on protecting my wife. She checking windows and shit before bed… waking up out her sleep in cold sweats. I did that shit to her, and I promised I would never allow that to happen to her.”
I touched his hand again. “As upset as Stevie was in there, she knows you would protect her with your life. I think you need to stop being so hard on yourself. Be with your wife and son.”
He nodded his head a few times. “Ight, ight…cool.”
“You didn’t say it out here, but you’ll eventually have to admit it out loud,” Don whispered to me.
I looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. “How does Gaston feel about the baby? Are you healthy and shit?”
I ignored him never calling Goo by his damn name. “He’s excited about it. I am excited about it, too… I’m happy, Maverick.”
He smiled. “Uncle-Daddy.”
“My child is not fucking calling you that,” I said, and walked towards the villa. My stomach was rumbling and I was starving.
“We’ll ask Gusto,” he called behind me.
I ignored his ass, while walking off the beach.
I held a lot of emotion from this conversation that I needed to process.
Learning my parent’s fate and witnessing how much pain my brother was carrying was an eyeopener for me.
I always said I didn’t care how he felt or if he felt pain.
Seeing it up close hurt me, too. I never wanted him to hurt the way he was, and then to do it silently.
Menace had been a thorn in my side for the past few years, but Maverick was showing me that every rose had thorns, and they were still worthy of being picked.