CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The next morning, I walked down the hallway and found Jokah sitting at the kitchen island. He was already dressed in all black with a cup of coffee in front of him and his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes found me as soon as I walked in.
"I'll call you back."
He ended the call and placed his phone on the counter. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Tired."
"I know. You barely slept."
"I tried."
"I know, baby."
He held his hand out to me. I walked over, and Jokah pulled me between his legs before wrapping his arms around my waist.
"You hungry?"
"Not really."
"You gotta eat something."
"I will."
"When?"
"In a little while."
He looked up at me like he wasn't completely satisfied with that answer. Normally, I would've had something smart to say. This morning, I just wrapped my arms around him and held on.
Jokah looked at me. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
His eyes stayed on mine for a few seconds before he pulled me closer. I closed my eyes against his shoulder. I wanted to remember this. The way he smelled. The way his arms felt around me. The safety I still somehow felt when he held me, even after everything else had stopped feeling safe.
Jokah kissed the side of my head. "I gotta go handle something."
My arms tightened around him before I made myself let go. "Okay."
"Hulk downstairs."
I looked at him.
"Downstairs, Kaior. He ain't coming up here."
"I know."
"I won't be gone long."
He kissed my forehead.
"Call me if you need me."
"I will."
"And eat something."
"I will."
He looked at me again. I hated how well this man knew me.
"Go, Jokah. I'm okay."
He leaned in and kissed me.
"I love you."
My throat tightened, as I fought back the urge to cry. "I love you too."
Jokah stood and headed toward the elevator. I stayed where I was and watched him step inside.
Right before the doors closed, he looked at me again.
"You sure you good?"
For one second, I almost told him the truth.
I almost said no and told him that I spent most of the night lying against his chest trying to figure out how I was supposed to leave the man I loved.
A small part of me wanted to ask him to come back and hold me until I changed my mind. Instead, I nodded.
"I'm good."
The doors closed and I stood there staring at them until the elevator disappeared. Then the tears started falling because I lied to him. I wasn't good.
And somewhere during the night, I finally accepted that staying with Jokah wasn't going to make me good again.
I went back to the bedroom and walked into the closet.
My suitcase was sitting where I left it when I moved in.
I pulled it down, carried it to the bed, and stared at it for a few minutes before finally unzipping it.
Then I started packing the things I needed the most. Not everything.
I couldn't bring myself to do that, so I packed enough to get me through the next few weeks.
Then I stopped. My hand moved to my stomach because I still hadn't told him. That thought hurt almost as much as leaving. I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the suitcase in front of me. Here I was carrying Jokah's baby, and I was about to leave him.
"Your daddy is gonna hate me."
Tears filled my eyes. I wiped them away. That was the lie I just told myself. Jokah will be angry and hurt, but he wouldn’t hate me. That much I knew. I knew that man loved me and that was what made leaving him hurt so fucking bad.
Once I finished packing, I rolled my suitcase into the living room and sat at the kitchen island.
A blank piece of paper was in front of me. I stared at it for almost ten minutes. I didn't know how to explain that I was leaving a man I still loved. I didn't know how to make him understand that he hadn't done anything wrong, but I still couldn't stay.
Every time I thought about Jokah coming home and realizing I was gone, my chest hurt. He was going to be angry. Then he was going to be hurt. And knowing I was the reason for either one made me want to forget this whole thing, put my clothes back in the closet, and wait for him to come home.
But then I thought about Reek, the elevator and the parking lot. The way I checked every car around me now. I thought about the woman I was before that night and how badly I wanted to find her again.
My eyes filled with tears. "Fuck." I wiped my face and took a breath. Then I picked up the pen and started writing.
Joaquin,
I know you're going to be angry when you read this, but please don't come looking for me tonight.
I love you and that's what makes this so hard.
You didn't hurt me. You saved me. You came for me when I knew you would, and I don't think I'll ever be able to explain what it felt like when I saw you standing in that doorway.
But something changed in me that night. I don't sleep the same. I don't walk to my car the same. Every car behind me feels too close. Every noise makes me wonder who's coming.
I know you would protect me with your life.
I'm just scared loving you might cost me mine.
I need my mama. I need my sisters. I need something that feels like the life I had before I knew I needed to look over my shoulder.
Please don't think I'm blaming you for what happened to me. I'm not. And please don't think I'm leaving because I stopped loving you. I didn't. That’s the hardest part.
I just need time to figure out how to live with what happened to me before I can figure out anything else. Please give me that.
I love you, Joaquin.
Kaior
I put the pen down and stared at the letter through my tears.
There was one thing missing. The biggest thing.
My hand moved to my stomach. I could've written it.
Two more words would've changed everything…
I'm pregnant. But I couldn't tell him like this.
Jokah deserved to hear that from me, not find out while standing in an empty penthouse reading a letter telling him I was leaving.
And if I told him now, I knew exactly what would happen.
He would come straight home, and the second I saw him, everything I had spent all night convincing myself I needed to do would get harder.
He would touch my stomach, tell me we could figure this out together, and I would want to believe him.
I wasn't sure I would have the strength to leave after that.
So, I folded the letter and left the one thing that connected us more than anything else off the page for now.
But the truth was, I didn't even know what I wanted to do about the pregnancy yet.
That was the part I hadn't allowed myself to think about.
Every time my hand touched my stomach, I thought about Jokah.
About the picnic and him telling me I was going to get pregnant.
About how differently finding out might have felt if it had happened before that night.
I probably would have been happy. I would have cried, called Armani, then found some cute way to surprise Jokah just so I could see that big-ass smile spread across his face when he realized we were having a baby.
Instead, I found out in a hospital after one of the worst nights of my life.
Now I was leaving the baby's father because I was terrified of the life that came with loving him.
How was I supposed to know if bringing a child into that same life was something I could do?
My eyes filled again because I didn't know.
And for once, I wasn't going to force myself to have an answer just because everybody else would eventually want one.
Leaving Jokah was already breaking my heart.
And deciding what came next for me and this baby was something I would have to face when I was ready.
My phone rang and I jumped at the sound. It was Jokah. I stared at his name until the call stopped. I couldn't answer. If I heard his voice, I wouldn’t leave. Then a text came through.
Jokah: You eat?
Me: Yes.
Jokah: You sure?
Me: Yes.
Me: I love you.
Jokah: Love you too baby.
I stared at the screen as tears rolled down my face. He had no idea what he was about to come home to. I locked my phone, grabbed my bags, and walked toward the elevator. Before stepping inside, I looked around the penthouse one last time.
Somewhere along the way, this had stopped being Jokah's home and became ours.
That made leaving hurt even more. The elevator door opened and for a second, I wanted to put my bags down and wait for him to come home.
But I knew if I did, I would never leave, so I stepped inside.
The doors closed, and I cried the entire way down.
The elevator doors opened downstairs, and Hulk stood the second he saw me. His eyes dropped to my suitcase.
"Kaior."
"I'm going to my mama's."
"Jokah know?"
I didn't answer. Hulk reached for his phone.
"Please."
His hand stopped.
"Please don't call him yet."
"Kaior, you know I can't do that."
"I'm not asking you to lie to him. I just need enough time to leave before he comes back."
"If I call him, you know he is coming straight home."
"I know. And if he gets here before I leave, I'm not going to be able to do it."
Hulk stared at me.
"I'm going straight to my mama's. You can follow me there if you need to. I don't care."
His jaw tightened.
"I just need to leave, Hulk."
"That nigga gone kill me."
"I'm not asking you to keep it from him. Just give me ten minutes."
Hulk looked at my suitcase again.
"Ten."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Get your ass in the car before I change my mind."
I grabbed my suitcase, but Hulk took it from me. "I got it."
We started toward the door before I stopped.
"I left something for Jokah."
Hulk looked at me.
"On the kitchen island. Make sure he sees it."
"A'ight."
He carried my suitcase outside and put it in the car. "You sure about this?"
"No. I love him so much, but I still need to go."
That was the truth. Hulk closed the trunk.
"I'll follow you."
I didn't argue. I wasn't trying to disappear or keep Jokah from knowing where I was. I just needed to get out of there before he came home, and I lost the strength to leave.