Aaliyah's Prelude |C.B|

fifty - seven

Aaliyah Brielle Na'Jai Harper
Twenty-Two
Los Angeles, CA
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I was sitting on the couch, eating barbecue lays for breakfast.

It was a bad idea. But it was the only thing I was craving for the moment, so I didn't care.

The TV was on, some random reality show I wasn't really watching. I kept pretending to be interested in it, but my mind was all over the place.

I could hear Chris moving around in the other room, getting ready for work. Every little sound he made seemed to irk on my nerves, but I wasn't even sure why.

Maybe it was because of this morning, the way we barely said a word to each other. I was mad, but I didn't even want to admit it to myself. He walked into the living room, looking good as usual—.

He was the picture of someone who had their life together, and here I was, pregnant, eating chips for breakfast, and pretending everything was fine.

He smiled at me, but it wasn't that real smile—the one that made me feel like everything would be okay. This one was more of an attempt to smooth things over, and I could see right through it.

"So," he started, looking like he was trying to be casual, but I could tell he was treading carefully, not wanting to set me off. "You know Zoe- He found a couple of houses for us to check out- I'm kinda busy today so my mom and the real estate agent are coming over soon, and I thought maybe you and her could go tour them."

I stared at him, my mind racing. I didn't say anything at first, just let the words hang there between us. Why wasn't he coming? Why wasn't he going to be there to help pick out the place where we were supposed to start fresh?

"Why aren't you going?" I finally asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but I could hear the edge in it.

I wanted him to say that he'd changed his mind, that he was coming with us, that this was important enough for him to be there.

He ran a hand over his headl. "I've got studio time I gotta use," he said, almost like it was a good enough reason to skip out on something this big. "You know how it is."

Studio time. Of course, it was studio time. It was always something with him—work, the studio, some meeting. It was like he was always finding something more important to do, something that didn't involve me.

"Right," I said, feeling the anger bubbling up, not trusting him about his whereabouts. I didn't want to be this mad, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't believe he was going to leave this to me and his mom like it was just some errand to run. "Well, I guess we'll figure it out then."

He must've sensed that I was pissed because he walked over and sat down next to me on the couch. "Li, I know it's not ideal, but I really need to get this studio time in," he said, trying to explain himself. "And I trust you and my mom to make a good choice. We're gonna find the perfect place, I promise."

I didn't even look at him, just kept my eyes on the TV. The chips in my hand were suddenly unappetizing, but I kept eating them anyway, more out of habit than anything else. "Yeah, whatever," I muttered, not caring how childish I sounded.

He sighed, and I could feel him looking at me, like he was waiting for me to say something else, to tell him it was okay or that I understood. But I didn't understand, and I wasn't okay with it.

"You should eat some real food," he said finally, trying to change the subject. "So you can take your pain medicine."

I almost laughed at that. It was so typical of him, trying to act like he was taking care of me, like he was doing the responsible thing by reminding me to eat, but it just felt like another way of avoiding what was really going on.

"I'm fine," I said, shrugging him off. "You go do your studio thing. I'll handle everything here."

He didn't say anything for a minute, and I could tell he was frustrated, but I didn't care. He stood up, adjusting his tie again, even though it was already perfect. "I'll be back later, okay? We can talk then."

I just nodded, still not looking at him. The door clicked shut behind him, and the house felt emptier than ever. I tossed the bag of chips onto the coffee table, suddenly sick of the sight of them, and curled up into a ball on the couch.

I knew I was being difficult, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just another sign that things weren't right between us. How could we start over in a new place if he couldn't even be there to choose it with me?

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, feeling the slight curve that was starting to show. It was supposed to be a time of excitement, of getting ready for a new chapter in our lives, but all I felt was this gnawing uncertainty. And the worst part was, I couldn't even talk to him about it—not really. Because every time I tried, it just felt like he was slipping further away.