Chapter 22
Eternity
Life had started to settle again, or at least it carried the appearance of something steady and familiar when I stood back and really looked at it.
MJ was healing, and although it had not been an easy process for him, I could see the shift happening little by little.
The scars on his arm were a constant reminder of what he had gone through.
He complained about it more than he probably realized.
Still, the heaviness that had followed him home from the hospital was no longer sitting on his shoulders the same way.
He moved through the house with more life in him now.
He was laughing again and engaging again with the rest of the house.
What happened to him had not broken him.
Still, it had changed him in a way that only time would fully reveal, and as his mother, I could only watch and pray that whatever it was shaping him into would make him stronger.
Maylee had found her rhythm as well, especially now that it was summer and she didn’t have to be tied to a classroom.
A while ago, she had started a new gymnastics class, and it did not take long for her to come home talking about the girls she had met there.
The excitement in her voice when she spoke about them made it clear that she was stepping into a space where she felt comfortable and where she could be herself without hesitation.
Watching her grow into that confidence and watching her form friendships that made her feel seen and included brought a kind of peace to me that I did not take for granted.
There was something special about seeing your child thrive in their own world, separate from the one you built for them.
And then there was Maliah. I found myself thinking about her more often these days, but not from a place of worry the way I used to.
Instead, my thoughts lingered on her with a quiet sense of reassurance, and a lot of that had to do with Tahari.
There was something about the way he carried himself when it came to her that I could not ignore, no matter how much I tried to stay neutral and observe.
It was the way he paid attention to her, the way he anticipated her needs without making it obvious, and most importantly, the way he protected her without making it feel like control.
It reminded me so much of Bleek when we were younger.
Back then, everything between us had been raw and intentional.
It was untouched by the layers that life would eventually place on top of it.
Seeing that same energy reflected in Maliah’s life and seeing her experience a version of love that was rooted in care and presence made me feel joyful for her.
It made me feel like she was going to be okay.
It was like she had someone beside her who understood what it meant to stand firm without overshadowing her.
My thoughts drifted there longer than I intended.
It was so consuming in a way that almost made me forget where I was, until the sound of my phone alarm cut through the quiet and pulled me back into the present.
I blinked, my eyes shifted down to where my phone rested on the counter beside me.
The sound continued until I reached over and turned it off.
My gaze slowly moved to the sink. The pregnancy test sat there waiting for me to glance at the findings.
For a moment, I did not move. I looked at it, as if staring long enough might somehow change what I already knew was there.
Eventually, I reached for it. My fingers wrapped around it carefully, almost cautiously, and when I brought it closer, my eyes settled on the result. Negative.
A slow breath left my body as I leaned back against the toilet.
My head tipped slightly as I tried to process something that had already begun to feel too familiar.
I held onto the test a moment longer before letting my arm fall.
My head dropped back as I exhaled again, this time with more weight behind it.
I had wanted this. And I mean badly. The thought of another baby, another life to nurture and love, had settled deep within me, growing stronger with each passing day.
But every time I found myself here, in this same position, holding the same result, it chipped away at that belief just a little more.
My grip tightened slightly before I dropped the test into the trash beside me.
It made a small sound when it dropped into the empty pail.
This felt like the norm for me now, and honestly, it made no sense to share the news with Malik.
For a moment, I sat there in silence, my thoughts turned inward in a way that I could not stop.
A quiet, unwanted thought had come to my mind.
Maybe my body was broken. It was not something I wanted to believe, but it was there, lingering in the space where hope had started to wear thin.
I had done everything the way I was supposed to.
At my age, my doctor advised that I change how I eat and try to be more active.
Which I was doing. I was trying. I had been patient.
I had given it time. I had even held onto my faith with each negative result.
And nothing crushes faith quicker than disappointment, but still, I was holding on. And was still rewarded with nothing.
I pressed my lips together, my eyes burned slightly before I blinked the feeling away.
I refused to let this turn into something that would consume me.
I sat up slowly and placed my hands on the counter to the sink.
I looked in the mirror at myself. I couldn’t do this shit again.
I couldn’t get depressed about this, not about anything ever again.
Life was not perfect. It had never been for me, but thus far, it was still full.
My children were here, and they were safe.
They were growing into themselves in ways that made me proud every single day.
My family surrounded me with a love that had carried us through more than most people would ever understand.
And even in this moment, while I was sitting here with disappointment resting heavily in my chest, I could not ignore everything that I still had.
Maybe this was not my time. Maybe it would come later.
Or maybe it would come in a way that I had not yet imagined.
I studied myself, taking in what I saw without turning away from it. I did not look broken. I looked like a woman who had lived, who had loved, who had endured, and still stood firm after getting through the healing phases. There was strength there. There was patience there.
And even now, beneath the disappointment, there was still hope. I exhaled softly, reaching for the light before stepping out of the bathroom. Because no matter how many times I found myself here, I knew one thing for certain. My story was not finished yet.
GHOST
I hadn’t spoken to Trigga since the fight.
The silence between us was going on longer than I expected, but it wasn’t confusing.
Some situations don’t need to be explained because the outcome speaks for itself, and everything about how we left things told me exactly where we stand now.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it.
It didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about him.
We had lived under the same roof at one point.
We really were moving through life like brothers instead of just friends.
Everything we built came from that foundation, from years of being side by side, from learning the same lessons, taking the same risks, and trusting each other without question.
That type of bond was not supposed to break, especially not over a woman.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
There was a moment when I reached out, and even now I could not say it was for any real reason other than what I had seen that day.
I had been driving, minding my business, moving through the city like it was any other day, when I pulled up at a light and happened to glance over. That was when I saw him.
Trigga sat behind the wheel of a white Benz, looking comfortable in a way that made it clear life had not slowed down for him at all.
The moment I saw the car, something clicked in my mind because I remembered him saying one time that Maliah drove that same kind of car.
My eyes shifted to the passenger seat, and that was when I saw her.
She was pretty, darkskin, and sitting there like she had every reason to be in that seat beside him.
For a brief moment, she looked over, and our eyes met through the glass.
It did not last long, but it was enough for me to know exactly who I was looking at. That had to be her.
Before anything else could happen, the light turned green, and Trigga pulled off.
I sat there a moment longer than I should have, watching the Benz disappear into traffic.
That was what pushed me to reach out. The message I sent was simple, and I gave him the chance to respond and to acknowledge me in some way, but he never did.
That silence told me everything I needed to know.
I sat on my bed, exhaling slowly as I stared at my phone, letting that reality settle in again.
Before I could drift too far into it, the screen lit up with a new message.
Ryan
My expression tightened slightly as I opened it, already knowing this was not going to be anything good.
I gave you half my money. Where’s my product?
I read the message more than once, letting the words settle in fully before I even thought about responding.
I couldn’t answer Ryan’s question even if I wanted to.
I was sitting here with no product, no way to get more, and money in my possession that did not belong to me.
I dragged my hand down my face and let out a slow breath as the weight of it all settled in deeper than I wanted it to.
This was not the type of situation that fixed itself, and it definitely was not something I could ignore.
Ryan did not strike me as the type of person who would let something like this go.
My phone buzzed again in my hand, pulling my attention back to the screen.
I stared at it for a moment, my thumb hovered over the screen before I locked it instead.
I was choosing silence over a response that would not solve anything.
I laid back on my bed before staring up at the ceiling.
My mind was already moving through possibilities that did not look good, no matter how I tried to frame them.
Not having product was one problem, but not having Trigga made it worse in a way I had not fully acknowledged until now.
If anybody could get me out of this situation, it was him.
For the first time since everything went left between us, I was not thinking about pride or who was right.
I was thinking about consequences. Because at this point, there was only one question that mattered, and it sat heavily in my mind as everything started to connect, whether I wanted it to or not. Was Ryan about to become a problem?