Amethyst Giselle Washington
Sundays used to be my favorite. I could always count on them to be quiet, predictable—a day where the world slowed down just enough for me to catch my breath. Maybe even deep clean my house then relax. But today, the air in the brunch spot feels thick, like it's pressing down on me, and no matter how many mimosas I sip, I can't shake the weight sitting on my chest. I'm drunk, worried and afraid all at once.
Zephorah and Heather are talking, but their voices blended into the background like the clinking of silverware and low hum of conversations around us. Normally, I'd jump in, cracking jokes or throwing shade just to see them roll their eyes at me. But today, I'm too deep in my own thoughts, too worried about Cassius to even pretend to care about their gossip.
"Amethyst, you good?" Heather asks, her voice cutting through the fog in my mind. She's looking at me like I'm a bomb about to go off, her eyes narrowed in that way she does when she's trying to read me. "You've been quiet all morning."
I force a smile, but it feels heavy on my lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just tired, I guess."
Heather and Zephorah exchange a look, and I know they're not buying it. They know me too well, can see right through the lies I tell myself. But what am I supposed to say? That I'm scared Cassius is slipping away from me, that I can't get the image of him from the other night out of my head? The way he looked at me, like he wasn't even there, like he was seeing something I couldn't—something that terrified him. The doctor called it a hallucination, but to me, it was more than that. It was a glimpse into the darkness that's been following him, the shadows that he's been trying to keep at bay.
Zephorah leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Girl, what the hell is going on with you?"
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but they stick in my throat. My eyes start to burn, and I look down at my plate, pushing around the remnants of my avocado toast. "I'm good. I'm just overthinking and worried about Cassius," I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like... like I'm to blame for what's happening to him. I'm stressing him out."
Zephorah's face softens, and she reaches across the table to take my hand. "Girl, you can't blame yourself for his actions . Cassius has been through a lot—way before you came into the picture. You both have. Y'all chose to go through that journey together so talk to him."
"I know," I say, my voice trembling. "But it's like... I'm supposed to be there for him, you know? To help him, to keep him grounded. And I feel like I'm failing. Part of me is fearful that he will be in and out of reality."
Heather shakes her head, her expression serious. "You're not failing, Amethyst. You're doing everything you can. But some things are out of our control. You can't take all that on yourself."
Tears spill over, and I wipe them away quickly, not wanting to break down here, in the middle of a restaurant. But it's too late—the dam has burst, and I can't hold it back anymore. "I just... I miss him. I miss how we used to be, before all this. And I'm scared that I'm losing him." Cassius being bipolar never bothered me. But hallucinating? I'm hurt. I feel like I pushed him there.
Zephorah moves to sit next to me, wrapping her arms around me as I cry into her shoulder. I can feel Heather's hand on my back, comforting me in the way only sisters can. "You're not losing him," Zephorah murmurs. "He's still here. And he loves you."
I sniff, trying to pull myself together. "I know. But what if it's not enough? What if I'm not enough?"
"You are enough," Heather says firmly. "And if Cassius is worth it—which I know he is—he'll fight for you, too. You just have to hold on. Also, girl go buy a pregnancy test because crying at brunch is a little insane. Still love you though." She chuckled.
