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Chris
Los Angeles
March 26th, 1:03 PM
I'm slumped on the couch, Blue Ivy snuggled against my chest, her little head resting peacefully. The living room is a mess of toys and crumpled blankets from earlier—proof of the long day I've had juggling diaper changes and snack time. Beyoncé's been a whirlwind these past few days, and with Lemonade's release, it's like the world's been set on fire. Every minute she's been out there, it feels like I'm holding down the fort alone, and though I'm proud, it's exhausting.
The front door creaks open, and I hear Beyoncé's laughter. It's a sound I haven't heard in a while, so I look up, half-expecting to see her with a beaming smile. Instead, Jay-Z's with her, their voices mixing in that familiar rhythm of camaraderie. I give Jay a nod as he walks past me, trying to ignore the flicker of irritation that tugs at the corner of my mind.
"Hey, Chris," Jay says, a smile on his face. He's always been friendly, but lately, his friendliness has felt a little too... familiar. I nod back, not trusting myself to say much. It's hard to shake off the feeling that Jay's crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed, especially with the way he's been getting a little too touchy with Beyoncé lately.
Jay's hug lingers longer than usual before he steps back, and I notice the way Beyoncé looks at him—like she's sad to see him go. They share a laugh that sounds too intimate, and it twists something in my gut. I keep my eyes on Blue Ivy, focusing on the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, trying to ignore the pit of annoyance simmering inside me.
Jay says his goodbyes and heads out, leaving the door to close behind him with a soft click. Beyoncé walks over to me, her face lighting up as she sees Blue Ivy. She bends down and kisses our daughter's forehead, and then looks up at me.
"I'm going to get in the shower," she says, her voice warm and tired. She's barely had a moment to herself lately, and I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, masked behind a smile.
"Okay," I reply, my tone as neutral as I can manage. She doesn't seem to notice anything off as she heads toward the bathroom.
As she disappears, I shift Blue Ivy carefully in my arms, trying to ignore the way my mind keeps replaying Jay's lingering hug and the way Beyoncé's eyes followed him out. I know she's busy and probably doesn't see what I see, but it's hard to shake the feeling that Jay's taking advantage of this time they're spending together.
Blue Ivy stirs slightly, and I focus on her, forcing myself to push aside the worries and frustrations. I just hope Jay keeps his distance, for both Beyoncé's sake and mine. It's hard enough balancing everything as it is without adding this kind of stress to the mix.
