Page 13 of Roman Blake
I didn’t think I could survive that kind of loss.
I didn’t think I was that strong.
April stepped closer and touched my arm, making me look down at her.
“Baby, is you okay?” she asked, softer this time.
And right there was my chance to tell her the truth.
But I looked in her eyes, saw all that love sitting there, and I lied.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’m good.”
She searched my face like she was trying to see past my words. “You sure?”
I nodded and pulled her closer to me. “I’m sure. You ain’t got nothing to worry about. All I want is you. All I care about is you.”
That part wasn’t a lie.
Not even a little bit.
I meant every word of it.
April relaxed some in my arms, but I could still feel the hesitation in her body. Like she wanted to believe me, but something in her knew I wasn’t giving her all of it.
Still, she let it go.
For the moment.
“You promise?” she asked.
I kissed her forehead. “I promise.”
That seemed to settle her enough.
Later that night, we ate dinner together at the table, talking about wedding details and little random shit that didn’t matter much. I did my best to be present. To smile. To act normal. And for the most part, I think I pulled it off.
But even laying in bed next to her that night, with April curled into my side and breathing soft against my chest, sleep still took forever to come.
Because my mind would not shut the fuck up.
The next day, I found myself pulling up to Nana Hope’s house.
If there was one person who could always read through my bullshit, it was her.
Nana Hope had raised me and Roman when life made it clear our parents wasn’t fit to do it. She was the kind of woman who carried herself like she knew exactly who she was and didn’t need validation from nobody. Strong. Loving. Sharp as hell. The kind of woman who could hug you and humble you in the same breath.
I got out the car and made my way up to the porch. Before I could even knock, the door swung open.
“There my grandson go,” she said, smiling like she already knew it was me.
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “How you know it was me?”
She waved me off and turned back toward the house. “Boy, because don’t nobody stomp up my steps like they mad at the world but one of my grandsons.”
That made me laugh for real.
I followed her inside and took a seat at the kitchen table while she finished up with whatever she had cooking on the stove. The house smelled like home. Like peace. Like being little again and not having to carry so much on my back.
