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“My dark soul will suck all light and energy from them, rendering them ineffective.” I pat around the bed for the corner of my blanket. When I feel the annoying tag that I’ve never cut off, I cover my head with it.
G-mama tears the blanket away. “Let’s make something to eat, then we can return to bed.” She tugs at me until I move under my own steam.
In the kitchen, she asks, “Have you seen Cameron since your fight?”
I pinch my lips to prevent any words from escaping. No one has spoken his name in my presence and I fear what will flow out of me if I let down my guard. I shake my head for G-mama’s benefit.
“Do you think you’ll be able to forgive him one day?”
After a second’s hesitation, I shake my head again.
G-mama sighs. In that long exhale, I hear her preparing for disappointment. “Did he take his things?”
I nod.
“I guess he’s truly gone, then.” In her sparing words, G-mama’s disappointment is an acute knife, cutting at a festering wound.
We make two platters of finger foods I don’t recall buying. In fact, my fridge is full of produce that I didn’t stock. I glare at G-mama, who shrugs without a care. When everything is placed on the tray, we return to the bedroom and I crawl under the covers.
G-mama sets a tray on my lap and lets the silence hang between us. In the days since Cameron left, I’ve lived in a vacuum where no emotion touches me, glad that I hadn’t fallen in love with the liar.
He’s truly gone.
Sitting here with G-mama, not talking, is disrupting the peaceful void in which I’ve existed.
He’s truly gone.
Why can’t I shut out G-mama’s words?
He’s… truly… Gone.
The quiet presses against my chest, making it hard to breathe. I upend the tray as I clutch at my breast, curling into myself.
“Kenya, what’s wrong?” G-mama’s concern reaches me as if from a long tunnel.
All of a sudden, everything hits me at once. I pant, unable to get a clean breath of air. “Why?” I choke out. “Why does it hurt so bad?” I turn to G-mama’s blurry image. “Why can’t I breathe? I’m supposed to be able to breathe without him, so why can’t I?”
“Oh, baby.” G-mama pulls me into her arms and holds me tight. “This is your first heartbreak.”
“No.” I shake my head. “This is something else. It has to be. I never fell in love with Cameron.”
G-mama cradles my head against her bosom. “I hate to break it to you, but you wouldn’t feel this way if you weren’t in love with him.”
I clutch G-mama’s waist, needing her to distract me from the painful abyss trying to swallow me whole.
“I can have the Silver-Haired Baddies on his doorstep. They’ll take a bat to his knee and anywhere else you want if that will make you feel any better.”
G-mama succeeds in breaching my defenses. I wail and I bawl until my voice dies on me. I have no idea when I pass out, but when I open my dry eyes, G-mama lies beside me. She usually shows the world a hardened-shell persona, but her concern for me overrules her usual apathy.
“Do you feel any better?”
“No.” I force the word through my sore throat.
“Do you want to talk about the fight?”
“He lied to me, G-mama.” With fits and starts, I relay my last interaction with Cameron and the excuse he gave me.
In the end, G-mama falls silent. I can’t pinpoint why, but G-mama’s reaction seems off.
