“Your ex.”
“My curse.” That came out sharper than she meant.
Najee didn’t react. “He lets us talk on the phone sometimes,” she said letting out a small breath.
“FaceTime audio. But it’s not the same, it’s not enough. Not for me. Not for Max.”
Najee leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“That’s a lot to carry. For both of you.”
“I don’t get to fall apart,” she said, wiping under her glasses.
“I can’t. If I fall apart, Max don’t eat. Max don’t bathe. Max don’t feel safe.”
“And what about you?” Najee asked quietly. “What do you feel?”
Jackie let out a bitter laugh. “Tired. I feel fucking tired.” He didn’t interrupt.
“Like today,” she continued, her voice rough. “I got this text from an unknown number. Three pictures. Marcus Junior in a cap and gown. It was from my son’s stepmom. She probably thought she was doing me a solid sending them because his father never would’ve.” Her throat tightened.
“But it fucked me up,” she said, voice cracking.
“I lost my shit and cried for hours.” Jackie said taking a shaky breath.
“But I still had to pull my shit together, come in here, meet with you… and try to be present. Still gotta get Max from school, help him with homework, bathe him, feed him, and try to memorize GED formulas so I can stop feeling like I’m some kind of fuckin’ statistic.” words tumbled out fast and unguarded.But they were true. All of it.“I’m just tired,” she whispered again.
“And no one ever asks me how I’m doing. Everybody wants something from me, and I just…” Her voice cracked.“I justwant my son back. Both of them. In the same house. Safe.” The quiet that followed wasn’t heavy. It was still. Like the room was holding space for everything she had just said.Najee’s voice, when it came, was soft and steady.
“You deserve a soft place to land, Jackie.” Something in her chest tightened.
Because nobody had ever said that to her before. Not like that. Not like they meant it.
She blinked, trying to play it off, but it didn’t work.
“Even women like you,” he added. Her guard snapped back up, automatic.
“Women like me?”
“Women who’ve been through hell but still get up to make slime, cut fruit, and make a house feel like love. Women who hold it down even when nobody’s holding them.”
That was it.The crack.The part of her she kept sealed tight shifted under the weight of his words. And for once, she didn’t have a comeback. She just sat there, lips trembling, glasses off now, her eyes full of everything she had been holding in for too long. “You think I’m doing okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The question felt heavier than it should have. Like it mattered more than she wanted it to. Najee nodded slowly. “I think you’ve been surviving,” he said. And for a second, she felt seen in a way that made her uncomfortable. “But you deserve more than survival, Jackie.”
This time… his words reached her. Deep in her spirit.
Because survival was all she knew, and for the first time in a long time… She didn’t know what to do with the idea of anything more.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DR. NIGEL AMIN-RASHID(NAJEE)
Jackie sat across from him, eyes glassy, mouth trembling.
Almost like she hadn’t meant to let any of that out.But she did.And now she was sitting there raw and real. Gone was the attitude and the armor she started the session with. Now she sat before him exhausted and aching from pain only years of survival and sacrifice could produce. It hit different when a woman built like iron and steel finally let you see the rust underneath.Not weakness. Just wear from weathering countless storms with no covering. Najee had been doing this long enough to know when someone was at capacity. Jackie wasn’t just a mother under pressure. She was a woman stretched thin by grief, guilt, and grind. And still, she showed up.For her son. For herself. Even when she almost didn’t.
Her voice had gone soft, unsure, when she asked if she was doing okay. And in that moment, he didn’t see the IG handle Zambia clowned. He didn’t kdbookonline.com saw a mother clawing her way through a storm, trying to build something gentle in a world that had never been gentle to her. She deserved softness. Not pity, charity or lecture. JustSoftness.“You’re doing more than okay,” he told her. “You’re doing the best you can in a system that’s never cared to ask you what you need.” She nodded slowly, wiping her face. He didn’t offer her a tissue. Instead, he stilled, gave her his undivided attention, and held space for her to process her emotions. Najee found thatsometimes presence was more powerful than comfort. After a few seconds, she stood, adjusting her bag, and finally slipping her sunglasses back in place. “You good?” he asked. “No,” she said quietly. “But I’m here.”
He nodded once. “That’s enough for today.” She gave a small, grateful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, then turned toward the door. Najee watched her go. Watched the way she squared her shoulders just before stepping out, like she had to rebuild the armor she had taken off for him. He had seen a lot of strong women sit across from him in that same chair. But none quite like her. Jackie Brown was layered. Tough and tired. Mouth sharp, heart soft. And even though he knew better, he could already feel it.The pull. The curiosity.She wasn’t just another case note.Not anymore.