~Mirrors are more than a fixture on a wall made of breakable glass and pretty frames. They are a portal to someone's soul, reflecting all of their deeply hidden fears, dreams, and desires🪞~
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FANTASIA
After staying with Kennedy to ensure that she was safely transported to the hospital by an ambulance, I went into the house in search of Taraji. I walked around until I found her out on the balcony connected to my bedroom that overlooked the pool. I know that she heard me push the glass sliding doors because her posture straightened up a little as she was leaning on the railing, but she didn't turn around to look at me. She had this focused yet far-away look on her face like she was contemplating every decision that she had ever made in her entire life. The tension throughout her body was evident. I wanted to comfort her, but I was afraid of getting too close to her. She's unpredictable, and most importantly, she's in the wrong. Kennedy provoked the hell out of her, but Taraji could have shown more self restraint and control. She needs serious help that I can't give her, but I hope that she takes the initiative to get it in her own. If she wants to be under one roof with me and my daughter, that's what she's going to have to do in order for me to trust her. I broke the tense silence when she began to roll up a blunt. I've never seen someone making rolling a blunt look so pretty.
Fantasia: I convinced Kennedy not to press charges. You don't know how fucking lucky you are. You could have killed her with your bare hands. Hell, you almost did. It's like you couldn't hear me when I was screaming for you to stop. I don't even think you saw me. It's like you blacked out.
Taraji: Do you think that I would hurt you or Sarai?
Fantasia: No.
Taraji: Then I know that I'm not too far gone.
Fantasia: That's not good enough, Raj. If you were to end up back in jail for hurting someone else, you don't think that would hurt me and Sarai? I don't want you to think that I'm afraid of you, but I never know what you're going to do next. I don't know what triggers you because you don't talk to me about your triggers.
She responded by not responding at all and turning around to walk through the glass doors into my bedroom. I wrapped my hand around her upper arm and she froze in her tracks, looking down at my hand and then up into my eyes.
Fantasia: You know I'm not going to hurt you, but I'm also not going to let you walk away from me.
Taraji: Get your hands off of me.
Fantasia: If you really wanted me off of you, you would move me. We both know you can.
She sighed, gently pulling her arm out of my grip as I voluntarily loosened it. She stood with her back against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. She doesn't need to be defensive around me or protect herself from me. It's like she's always waiting for someone to hurt her. I held my hand out and she looked me up and down before accepting it, allowing me to pull her into the bedroom. We sat down at the edge of my bed, our knees touching because of how close we were. She looked like an animal when she was attacking Kennedy, but now she just looks like a broken, misunderstood woman with deep emotional wounds masked by her pretty face. It's hard to stay mad at her when she's looking at me like I'm the one person in the world who can make her feel like she's not alone.
