The Devil Wears Stilettos

Twenty-Five

[B]

"I'm on my way," I mumbled on the phone. My hands shook as I put it down.

"What's going on?" Jay asked as he walked out.

"My dad," I said softly. "He's gone."

"Oh, baby." He started. I felt numb. I knew it was coming, and I tried to prepare myself, but it still hit me like a truck. No matter what he did, he was still my dad.

Now he's gone.

Forever.

God, I remember the days I used to wish for him to be out of my life. Honestly, to drop dead at times.

Now that it's real, my mind can't comprehend.

I felt Jay wrap his arms around me, and for the first time in a long time, his embrace didn't bring me comfort.

"I think," I stuttered, gently removing myself from his grasp. "I should go to the hospital."

"I'll take you." He said. I shook my head.

"I'll drive myself," I said.

"Bey, I don't think you're in the right mind to be driving." He said. I shook my head again.

"I want to be alone right now, Jay." I said. "So, can I please drive myself to go see my father?" I slightly snapped.

"Um, of course. Be safe," he said softly, handing me the keys. I sighed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" I said, my voice wavering.

"It's cool, I understand. Go do what you gotta do. I'm a phone call away." He said, kissing my forehead.

I felt bad for being rude to him, but I couldn't help it. I didn't know what to feel right now.

My drive to the hospital was a quiet one. No music, just the hum of the car. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for my mother's wrath when I walked in.

My footsteps echoed as I walked down the hall. The closer I got to my dad's room, I could hear the cries. I took a deep breath, turning the door knob.

I cleared my throat, making my presence known. Solange held my mother's hand as she cried.

"You have a lot of nerve!" My mother snapped, facing me. I hung my head.

"Mom," Solange said.

"This is your fault! Had you just gotten over yourself, he'd still be here!" She yelled.

"Mom!" Solange repeated. I wiped my eyes with the back of my palm.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking.

"Beyoncé, it wasn't..." Solange trailed off.

"Are you defending her?" My mom said, turning to Solange. "You know he would still be here had she came when we needed her!" My mom said. Solange sighed.

"Stop making her feel like it was her fault. We've done enough damage to her. This wasn't her doing." She said, surprising me.

"Had she-" my mom started. Solange cut her off.

"Maybe, but he would only have maybe a few more years... if that. Beyoncé was right. He did this to himself. His drinking was the problem, not Beyoncé." She said.

"You trying to blame her for not wanting to come to the very people who broke her and hand them a piece of her liver is really shitty, mom." She continued.

"Excuse me?" My mom said. I wanted to shrink into the wall. I did feel like it was my fault. My mom was only affirming those feelings. Solange did catch me off guard; her trying to defend me.