KAISEN #2
I could see it so clearly—Truth sitting in the rocking chair by the window, holding our twins. Smiling at me. Safe. Happy. Mine.
We’d have breakfast together every morning. I’d make her coffee the way she liked it. She’d laugh at my jokes. We’d take the baby to the park on weekends.
Normal. Stable. Real.
Everything Amai couldn’t give her.
Everything she deserved.
“I can give her that,” I whispered. “I can give her everything.”
My hands clenched into fists at my sides.
But the image shifted.
Amai’s face appeared in the fantasy, his hand on Truth’s shoulder, his voice in her ear, his presence poisoning everything I’d built.
“No,” I said aloud. “No, he doesn’t get to—”
I spun around, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
“She chose him because she doesn’t know any better. Because he got to her first. Because he lied and manipulated and—”
I stopped.
The truth was there, buried beneath the rage and desperation clawing its way to the surface.
I didn’t want Truth because I loved her.
I wanted her because Amai wanted her.
I wanted her because Winston said we’d never have this—love, family, normalcy.
I wanted her because she was proof that I could have what my father said was impossible.
The realization should have stopped me.
It didn’t.
“So what?” I said, my voice rising. “So, fucking what? I want her. That’s enough. That’s real.”
I turned back to the nursery, my eyes scanning the crib, the changing table, the carefully folded clothes.
“I built this for her. For us. That means something.”
It had to mean something.
Because if it didn’t—if this was all just spite and obsession wrapped in delusion—then what the fuck was I doing?
I shook my head, pushing the thought away.
“No. I’m not like him. I’m not obsessed. I’m not—”
I stopped mid-sentence, my reflection catching in the window.
I looked like shit.
Hair disheveled. Eyes bloodshot. Jaw clenched so tight it ached.
I looked like a man on the edge.
“I need to talk to her,” I said quietly. “I need to make her understand.”
The decision solidified in my mind, sharp and clear despite the alcohol clouding my thoughts.
I had to see Truth.
I had to make her see that I was the right choice. That Amai would destroy her. That I was the only one who could give her the life she deserved.
I turned and walked out of the nursery, my footsteps heavy hawking down the hallway.
I showered. Changed into clean clothes—dark jeans, a fitted black henley. I’d shaved, combed my hair, made myself look presentable.
Like a man who had his shit together.
Like a man who deserved to be heard.
I grabbed my keys from the counter and headed for the door.
The sun hit me like a slap, hot and sharp, but it didn’t clear my head.
Nothing could clear my head.
Not until I saw her.
Not until I made her understand.
I got in my car and started the engine, my hands steady now, my mind made up.
I was going to fight for her.
And I wasn’t going to stop until I won.
By the time I pulled up to Truth’s brick house on Mimosa Ct, it was just past one in the afternoon.
The sun was high and unforgiving, beating down on the quiet residential street. A few cars were parked along the curb, but the block was mostly empty. Peaceful.
I’d gone home first.
I parked at the curb and sat there for a moment, staring at the house.
Her car was in the driveway. She was home.
My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline mixing with the lingering alcohol in my system.
I could do this.
I could make her understand.
I got out of the car and walked up the front path, my steps measured and deliberate. The porch was small but well-kept. A potted plant sat near the door.
I knocked.
Three sharp raps.
Then, I waited.
Footsteps approached from inside, and then the door opened.
Truth stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, the other resting on her hip.
She didn’t smile.
She didn’t invite me in.
She just looked at me, her expression unreadable, and I felt the first crack in my confidence.
“Kaisen.”
Her voice was flat. Neutral.
“Truth.” I tried to smile, but it felt wrong on my face. “Can we talk?”
“We’re talking.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t step aside.
The barrier between us was clear.
I swallowed hard. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
The word was final.
I shifted my weight, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt standing on her porch in broad daylight.
“Truth, I just—I need to explain—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The question cut through my rehearsed speech like a blade.
I blinked. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she repeated, her voice steady but sharp. “About Amai. About the marriage. About any of it. Like, for real. Not that weak ass shit you said on the phone.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
“I—” I cleared my throat. “I wanted to confirm the truth first. I didn’t want to come to you with rumors or half-information. I needed to be sure.”
Truth’s eyes narrowed. “You needed to be sure.”
“Yes.” I nodded, gaining momentum. “And I didn’t want to frighten you. You were already dealing with so much—the pregnancy, the contract, everything. I didn’t want to add to your stress.”
“How considerate.”
Her tone was ice.
I pressed on. “And if I’d told you, Amai would have known. Winston would have known. They would have retaliated. I was trying to protect you, Truth. I was waiting until I could keep you safe.”
“Protect me.” She repeated the words slowly, like she was tasting them. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“It’s the truth.”
“No.” Truth stepped forward, and I instinctively took a step back. “Every Landry man I’ve met uses ‘protection’ as an excuse for control. You didn’t tell me because you wanted Amai to hurt me.”
“That’s not—”
“You wanted him to fuck up,” she continued, her voice rising. “You wanted me to find out in the worst way possible, so I’d come running to you. So, you could be the hero who picked up the pieces.”
“Truth, that’s not fair—”
“And you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Her eyes blazed. “The possibility that these twins could be yours. Because it gives you another reason to chase what Amai thinks is his. It’s not about me. It’s not about the babies. It’s about him.”
The accusation hung in the air between us.
My jaw tightened.
“Oh, it’s like that?” I said quietly.
Truth didn’t flinch. “It’s just like that.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then, I laughed—short, bitter, humorless.
“You want the truth?” I said. “Fine. I’m not going to apologize for wanting you. I’m not going to apologize for wanting those babies. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t want everything Amai has.”
Truth’s expression didn’t change.
“I see you,” I continued, my voice hardening. “I see what you could be. What you should be. And yeah, maybe part of it is about him. Maybe part of it is about proving I’m not the worthless fuck-up Winston thinks I am. But that doesn’t make what I feel any less real.”
“What you feel,” Truth said slowly, “is obsession. Not love.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But at least I’m honest about it.”
“Are you?” She tilted her head. “Because it sounds like you’ve been lying since the day we met.”
My hands clenched into fists at my sides.
“I’m working things out with Amai, but I’ll keep you in the loop about the babies. You’ll get updates. You’ll be involved. But that’s it, Kaisen. That’s all you get.”
Something inside me snapped.
“You’re working things out with him?” I laughed again, louder this time. “You mean you’re letting him fuck you stupid, so you forget he’s been lying to you this whole time?”
Truth’s face went cold.
“You must be slow as fuck in the head,” I continued, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Like he’s not the same manipulative bastard he’s always been.”
“Get off my property.”
Her voice was deadly quiet.
“Truth—”
“Get. Off. My. Property.”
“You don’t get to—”
The pain hit before I heard the shot.
A sharp, burning agony that tore through my back.
I staggered, my hand instinctively going to the wound.
Warm blood seeped between my fingers.
“What—”
My knees buckled.
I hit the porch hard, the impact jarring through my body.
Truth screamed.
I looked up at her, my vision blurring, and saw the horror on her face.
She wasn’t looking at me.
She was looking past me.
Across the street.
I turned my head, following her gaze, and saw it.
The rooftop.
A figure, barely visible, already moving away.
But I knew.
I knew.
Amai.
My brother.
Protecting what was his.
Establishing boundaries through blood.
The message was clear.
Stay away from her.
Or next time, I won’t miss.
The world tilted.
Truth was kneeling beside me now, her hands pressing against the wound, her voice frantic.
But I couldn’t hear her.
All I could hear was the roar of my own heartbeat.
All I could feel was the cold spreading through my body.
And all I could think was:
He won.
Again.
Darkness closed in.
And then there was nothing.