Standing on that porch, I realized something real clear. I knew how to survive. I knew how to protect. But whatever part of me was supposed to soften things, heal things, talk shit through, that part never made it back home. I accepted that standing there on that porch, night still thick around me, house quiet like it was holding its breath. Some shit don't return once it leave. You just adjust to the space it used to take up.
The next morning, Nia and I were sitting down at the table with breakfast spread out, waiting for the kids to get up and come downstairs. Eggs, bacon, and toast laid out neatly like routine was supposed to fix what the night before had cracked open. The house smelled like food and coffee, normal shit, but the air felt tight. Like everybody was being careful not to move too fast. We'd agreed on me taking Jezel and Juelz to school, and she was gon take Julise to the doctor's office and get her on birth control. The words had been said calm, business-like, no arguing attached to it. That's how we handled things now. Decisions made without emotion. Clean and Efficient. That didn't make it hurt less.
Jezel and Juelz had come down and started eating while their mama leaned against the counter, signing their folders. I watched Nia's hand move across the paper, steady, controlled. She looked tired. Not sleepy tired, life tired. I knew that couldn't be fixed with rest, still, she kept herself composed. Julise came down about fifteen minutes after the fact, right when it was time to go out the door. Hoodie on, face closed off, energy sharp. She moved like she was daring somebody to say something.
"Good morning, Jul," Jezel smiled at her. Julise didn't answer her. Just walked past her in the kitchen like she wasn't there. That small shit bothered me more than the big blowups. Disrespect disguised as silence. "Jul you heard my sister. Don't be mad at her because you got whooped," Juelz said, looking at her like he was confused more than anything.
I stepped in, shutting him up. "Nigga hush and come on," I said, ushering him out the door before he could push it further. I didn't look at Julise when I said it. Didn't look at Nia either. Some mornings, looking too long made things worse.
We listened to music and talked as I drove them to school. Same songs. Same route. Juelz telling me about some kid at recess. Jezel reminding me about a test coming up. I nodded, responded where I needed to, and kept my voice level. This part I knew how to do. This was easy. Dropping them off felt like relief. Once they were out of the car and walking toward the building, I sat there for a second longer than I needed to. Engine running. Hands on the wheel. Watching kids move around with backpacks and loud voices, life still moving forward whether you ready for it or not.
After pulling off, I headed to Velvet to meet up with my brothers.
The drive there was quiet. No music this time. Just the sound of the road and my own thoughts staying where I put them. I didn't replay last night. Didn't unpack anything. I'd learned inside that revisiting shit you couldn't change was a good way to lose your mind. Velvet sat just like it always did. Familiar. Predictable. The kind of place where nobody asked questions unless they needed answers. Pulling into the lot, I realized something else, too, something colder. At home, everything felt too close. At Velvet, I could breathe. That told me more than I wanted to know.
I cut the engine and got out of the truck, already slipping back into the version of myself that knew how to function without feeling. The one that kept things moving. The one that didn't ask for more than what was already in front of him. Family was still my responsibility. Being present was still my job. That didn't mean I knew how to do it right anymore.
Inside, Juste was sitting behind the desk, attention focused on the computer. The room smelled like coffee and printer ink, same as always. Same setup. Same order. That consistency settled me more than I liked to admit. "You here early," he cut his eyes up at me.
"Shit, yeah. Had to drop the kids off at school. Julise's ass snuck out the house this last night and pulled up with some lil' nigga in a red car round three a.m. She was out for a good lil' minute too," I vented, pulling out the chair in front of the desk and taking a seat. Saying it out loud made it feel heavier. Made it real in a way it hadn't been when it was just bouncing around in my head.
He pushed back, eyes following me as I sat down. "Nigga what the hell?" he said.
"Yeah nigga, shit is all fucked up at my crib," I exhaled, leaning my head back. I stared at the ceiling for a second longer than I needed to. White tiles. Small crack in the corner. I counted them out of habit. Anything to keep from letting my thoughts spiral.
"I see," he said, raising his eyebrow. "I know Nia cut up on her ass."
"Tuh. I thought she was finna put her hands on her at one point," I said. "Shit, it's like I don't even know how to be the man of my house no more. Her and Julise constantly arguing and fighting. Me and her arguing and fighting, except for after hours when we fucking each other like shit never changed. “That part sat there between us. Ugly. Honest.
Juste didn't say nothing right away. Let it hang. He always did that. Let people hear themselves. "You stuck in your head, Ju," he finally said. "You wanna forgive her, but you don't. You wanna move on, but you don't. You gotta pick one, brudda. Straddling the fence like this ain't doing shit but sending wreckage through your house."
I rubbed my jaw, feeling the roughness there. I hadn't shaved in a couple of days. Didn't care to. Little things like that felt pointless lately. "I don't know, Juste," I said. "I honestly came home feeling like fuck that shit. I contacted a divorce lawyer on the inside and everything." He looked at me sharp. "But getting out, seeing the state of my kids, the state of her, it kinda make me feel like a coward making that call," I continued. "Then she holler 'bout being on some shit bout figuring out who she is. I don't know what the fuck to think or do." That was as close as I'd come to admitting confusion in a long time.
"You wild as fuck seeking out a divorce lawyer," he raised his eyebrow. "What's wrong with Nia finding herself? She beenhooked on your ass like a fiend since she was fourteen, Jules. Ain't shit wrong with her wanting to be something outside of what she been." He leaned forward slightly. "On some real shit, brudda tell me what's wrong with that?" I didn't answer. Because the truth wasn't pretty. It wasn't that something was wrong with it. It was that I didn't know where that left me. He watched my face, searching. I stared back at nothing, jaw tight, hands resting flat on my thighs. Still. Controlled. "You selfish, Ju," he said finally. "You always have been." That shit landed clean. "Mama always told us everything happens for a reason," he continued. "And God rest my niece soul, but maybe that shit happened for a reason, Ju. Maybe it's a bigger picture to see right here."
The room felt smaller all of a sudden. Like the walls had leaned in. Juliana's face flashed in my mind before I could stop it. I pushed it back down where it stayed. I didn't talk about her. Didn't need to. Carrying her was enough. Maybe that was the problem. I'd built my whole life around carrying weight. Providing. Protecting. Holding shit together with discipline and silence. But sitting there, listening to my brother tell me truths I didn't ask for, something clicked into place quiet as hell. If Nia found herself, if she became something outside of me, then I couldn't hide behind duty anymore. I couldn't just be the man who stayed. I'd have to be the man who chose. And I wasn't sure I liked what that choice would say about me.
"Nigga hire a therapist," he said, breaking my thoughts.
"I'm not doing all that, man. Ima figure this shit out," I said, waving him off. That was the truth. Or at least the version of it I could live with. Talking to somebody about feelings never did shit for me, but made shit feel messier. I'd learned how to compartmentalize early. Learned how to put shit where it belonged and lock the door behind it.
"You makin' my head hurt thinkin' 'bout my girl growin' up," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you let that young nigga spin off like that."
I leaned back in the chair, jaw tight. "Oh ima figure out who he is and pull up on him fa sho," I said, nodding my head. That part didn't require much thought. Men, I understood. Patterns I understood. Fear too. That boy pulling off like that told me everything I needed to know.
"Da hell y'all old niggas in here talkin' 'bout?" Noles said, walking in with Pierre behind him.
"The woes of life, my nigga," I said. They laughed, but it didn't stick. Not for me.
We sat around and went over numbers for a while. Paperwork spread across the desk. Screens pulled up. Juste talking about a new project he had his eye on, something solid, something that made sense. We put our heads together to decide on the next move, like we always did. Business was easy. Clean. Straight lines. You put something in, you get something out. No guessing. No hoping. No waiting on somebody else to change.
My phone buzzed. Nia texted me to let me know she took care of Julise and dropped her off at school. I stared at the screen longer than I needed to. No extra words. No emotion attached. Just information. I locked my phone and set it face down on the desk.
Shit was still hard for me to wrap my head around my daughter possibly out here fucking.
That thought sat heavy, ugly, uncomfortable.
I didn't say it out loud. I don't know who I was fooling, because I knew exactly what was going on. I knew because Iknew what I was doing at her age. Sneaking. Lying. Thinking I knew more than I did. Thinking grown meant free. That realization made my chest tighten. Julise wasn't just being rebellious. She was becoming. That shit scared me more than prison ever did. Inside, I'd worried about my kids in a distant way. Thought about them like responsibilities waiting on me. Problems I'd fix when I got home. Out here, it was different. Every mistake felt closer. Louder. Like it could spiral out of control if I didn't get my hands on it.