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“No problem. Don’t let boss’s grouchy ass get to you. He can be a hard ass, but he’s also a man. Even gangstas have feelings.”
“You talking a lil too much over there,” Ahmad said, not even looking in our direction as he fixed another plate.
Ty chuckled as he stood. “See. Have a good day, Ms. Lila.”
“Thank you.”
“Be easy, Play.”
Ahmad remained quiet. Ty shook his head and laughed as he walked out the front door and closed it. I rested my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes. The tension in the air was so thick that it was suffocating. I wasn’t sure how long I could stand this.
“Here.”
I opened my eyes to see Ahmad standing in front of me with a plate of food, a glass of orange juice, and my pain meds. Slowly, I took the contents from his hands.
“Thank you,” I whispered. He didn’t say anything, just glared at me before walking off. “Ahmad.” He turned to me with a stoic expression. “Can we talk… please?”
“Ain’t nothing to talk about.”
His tone was cold… almost as cold as it was when I first met him. This shit was crazy. Fucking insane. Why the hell were we in our feelings? The man kidnapped me and my baby, and now we seemed to be in a waging war of feelings that should have never come to play.
Was I insane?
Was it Stockholm syndrome? There was just no way this was life right now.
I placed the plate of food on the table. My appetite was gone. After popping open the pill bottle, I took one and downed it with the juice. As I settled back onto the couch, I looked over at Ahmad and Kari. She smiled brightly and spoke a mile a minute as she gave him a rundown of our day yesterday. He listened attentively and didn’t interrupt her.
Their interactions were cute, but it also made me sad for her. The only man she’d ever had as a father figure was my father and most of that was through FaceTime calls. Sure, they came to visit, but it wasn’t the same as having him in the home with us. She didn’t get daddy daughter dates like I did growing up. She didn’t get to experience the joys of being a daddy’s girl.
She didn’t get to be spoiled by a man who would allow her to get away with murder because she was just that spoiled. When I first left Slim, I often wondered what kind of father he would have been. Would he have been active? Would he have loved her? Would her birth somehow change him?
Then I thought to myself, if a man wanted to change, he’d do it regardless of a child or any other circumstance. Slim was exactly the man he wanted to be. Kari’s birth wouldn’t have changed the way he treated me, and I never wanted my daughter to think love came from suffering or struggling.
It was pure and given freely. It wasn’t rooted in how much she could take a man putting her through. It didn’t depend on the strength she was forced to have because of any nigga. I gave her love in its purest form. Should I find a man who one day extended that to both of us, so be it. Until then, it was up to me to show her the way.
Again, I looked over at her and Ahmad. She playfully stole a grape from his fruit bowl. He tickled her, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles. I smiled softly. Without even realizing it, he had allowed her to soften his heart. I started thinking about what would become of him when we were no longer together. It saddened me. Not the thought of what would become of him… but the thought of leaving him altogether.
Later That Night
The house was quiet. Kari had fallen asleep about an hour ago. I’d taken my shower and slipped into my robe. It was raining cats and dogs, and while I should have allowed it to lull me to sleep, I was prepared to go plead my case. I made up my mind that I was going to make Ahmad talk to me one way or another. After kissing my baby goodnight, I slipped out of the room, softly closing the door behind me. I walked down the hall to his room and knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again.
No answer. Taking a chance, I twisted the knob and pushed the door open. The room was empty in its pristine condition. With a heavy sigh, I closed the door and headed for the stairs. At the bottom, I found Ahmad sitting in the middle of the living room meditating.
He was shirtless and a light fire rolled in the fireplace. The temperature had dropped significantly, and it added a warmth to the space. Slowly, I walked over to where he sat with his eyes closed.
“What?” he asked grumpily.
“Ahmad.”
“Don’t come down here fucking up my peace.”
“Can you look at me… please?”
A frustrated growl purred in his throat as his eyes slowly opened. He looked up at me. Though his eyes were angry, I could tell there were so many emotions behind them. Being vulnerable was a crutch to him. It was like it left him exposed and being exposed could lead to him being hurt.
