Glory.

14

Victoria's visit to Lucky Cheng's kept me up at night—why the hell was she there? She hadn't even brought it up, probably figuring that I was an oblivious idiot. How many times had she left the children at home to go out and do God knows what?

I was so caught up in figuring her out that I forgot about Blu and I's 'encounter'. After I embarrassed myself at his place, he let me sleep on the couch and I was out before the sun rose—he called afterwards but I ignored it. It wasn't like me to be embarrassed or ashamed but I was. And it was weird.

I thought Blu was attractive, no doubt, but I never thought I'd act on such a feeling. It felt good. But it was foolish. I had too much shit going on and kissing my partner was the icing on the goddamn cake. "Let me guess, you're not hungry." I was snatched back to Earth by Victoria's voice—now I was back to watching Jude fiddle with his hearing aid again and Ava tap away on whatever apps fried the kids' brains these days.

Victoria made Xôi, her favorite dish. It consisted of a glutinous rice base topped with fried onions, mung beans, quail egg and sliced sausage—I thought it was disgusting. But, my dislike for the dish wasn't the reason I was letting it grow cold; I was too stuck in my head. "Yeah, I'm not hungry. I have things to do today so..." I trailed off, standing up. She scoffed in response, snatching the plate. Her hormones were getting the best of her, per usual.

"The least you could've done was take a bite, y'know." She snapped, tossing the plate into the sink without bothering to dump the food first. The dish shattered in the sink, causing the children to flinch. I raised an eyebrow, motioning for the kids to go in the room and shut the door. Ava gave me a nod and obliged, picking Jude up from his high chair.

"What's your problem now?" I asked carefully, making sure to keep my voice down.

"Don't say that like I'm bitchy." Victoria shot back. "I'm trying to be real understanding here because I get that you're grieving and all but you're impossible." Her expression softened as she turned toward me, her eyes glossy and tired. I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned against the dining table before folding my arms. What the hell was she talking about?

"I'm impossible?" I motioned towards myself. "That doesn't even make any sense. Victoria, are you hearing yourself?" I'd recently started listening to some podcasts when I had a few minutes to spare throughout the day—one of them being a series called 'All Black Men Need Therapy'. Wasn't much but I was trying and not raising my voice when cornered is a milestone for me. I deserve a chip. Next on my list of sobriety from being an asshole was to actually get into therapy.

"Yanis, you are impossible! You're never here, you're cold and distant–"

"We're not a couple, Victoria!" Shit. I relapsed. My voice echoed throughout the small kitchen. "Like seriously! You're pregnant with someone else's fucking baby right now, we haven't seen each other in years. Then you just show up, ready to be this perfect little family now? And I'm the bad guy for not getting with the program?" She flinched at my tone. "You didn't even tell me about Jude!"

"If Ava didn't stop you from leaving, why would Jude be any different?" Victoria snapped, her face now red. "I figured it wouldn't have changed anything. You came home, probably drunk and begged me to let you come back so I did—we had sex and you were gone by morning. You'd fooled me again. I was tired of going through that hurt so when I found out I was pregnant again, I just sucked it up and kept him. You weren't ready to be a father again yet and I didn't want to force you."

"I would've liked to known! It's not like I would have left them high and dry."

"Oh really?" She laughed. "Sending $700 a month was your way of being a good father?"

"I was troubled, Victoria." My voice softened. "I was a drunk. I didn't want you or Ava, or anyone, around me during that time."

"Because your father, right?" Victoria scoffed in response. "I would have helped you in any way, shape or form and you know that. You were just running away from your problems."

"I couldn't put more hurt on this family. I was already tearing us apart, Tori. You just don't understand."

"So why the hell am I here then, Yanis?" She yelled.

"That's the question I ask myself every fucking morning." I snatched my keys, ready to storm out of the house.

"Oh my god," She breathed, covering her mouth. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes filled with tears. "You don't love me anymore."

"Victoria," My voice was heavy with shame. "It'll never be a time where I don't love you but–"

"But what, Yanis? We love each other! That should be enough." I sighed, listening to her voice crack. I wish it was. Victoria was a tender woman, almost as forgiving as a child and I didn't understand. After everything we'd been through, she was willing to wait for me? To work with me and figure it out? I don't get it. I'd relieved her of the mental torture I'd put her through and she still wanted to come back. She wanted to come back to a man who would drink himself into a coma, call her names, cheat, lie, the list goes on.

"I'm not a good man." I said, defeated. I sat back down in the dining chair, holding my head in my hands. I didn't know what she could possibly want from me. I was as bad as it gets—why didn't she see that? "I'm not a good father, or a good husband either. Victoria, I'm not enough right now." Years prior, I wouldn't have cared enough to change but now I did and I understood that this process wouldn't happen overnight. I was tired of being a drunk, a womanizer, an asshole. I don't want to be my father anymore.

"No one is perfect. I still love you and I want to help. I want us to work—for the children." She pleaded, wrapping her arms around me. I shook my head.

"I can't." I spoke stern. My vision blurred with tears. I was crying? I was crying. "I'm not a husband right now, Tori. I'm just not. I have a lot of work to do—you can't push this on me." She nodded, her own tears running down her cheeks. My head rested on her stomach.

My punishment was to be alone, unloved and uncared for. This was my punishment for being the man I was and I didn't have anything to show for it. I wasn't a good guy. I didn't say excuse me on the streets or held the doors open for old people—I don't feed ducks or give money to the homeless. I wasn't a man who deserved a spouse and a family. "We'll be leaving in two weeks." She cleared her throat, pulling away from my pathetic embrace. "We're moving in with my parents—they want to be closer to the children and I." I nodded, accepting our fate. She began to rummage through the drawers in the kitchen. "The plan was to stay until your shoulder healed, maybe even reconcile things but you're fine and I see where this is headed, Yanis. I love you and I want to see you better but I understand this is something you have to do on your own. Just know that the kids and I are here for you and we love you. We will only be a phone call away." She held a Manila envelope and sat it in front of me. I felt my heart skip a beat as I realized what was inside. "These are our divorce papers. I held on for as long as I could—this isn't my battle anymore. It's yours and I hope you get the help you need." And with that, she retreated back to the room.

I stared cowardly at the folder for what felt like hours before I stood up and grabbed my keys.