Broken

Chapter 54: Another day

Zac pulls up to his parents' apartment complex and cuts the engine, staring out the window at the familiar building. His chest feels tight, knowing this would be the first time he's been here since his argument with his father. The weight of unfinished business and regret hangs heavily in the air.

He lets out a deep sigh, lost in thought.

"You good?" Fatima's voice cuts through the silence.

Zac glances over at her in the passenger seat, offering a weak nod. "Yeah, I'm good," he says, though his tone suggests otherwise.

"You sure you want me to come with you?" she asks, her gaze searching his.

"Yes," he answers firmly. "I need you with me." Without another word, he gets out of the car, walking around to open her door.

Fatima steps out, taking his hand in a quiet gesture of support as they walk inside. The moment they enter the building, a somber energy hits them. The residents, many of whom Zac grew up with, are visibly grieving too, their sorrow etched into every glance and hushed whisper.

Zac slips his hands into his pockets, his jaw clenching as memories of his father flood his mind.

"Come on," Fatima murmurs gently, hugging his arm, anchoring him as they approach the elevator. The ride up feels longer than usual, the silence heavy between them, though Fatima's presence is a steady comfort.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Stepping off, they walk down the familiar hallway. The door to his parents' apartment is open, and inside, several of the residents are gathered, offering condolences and paying their respects. The air is thick with the weight of grief and loss.

Zac hesitates for a moment before leading Fatima inside. He takes in the scene—neighbors whispering, comforting one another, the scent of flowers mixed with the quiet murmur of sorrow.

Fatima squeezes his arm, her eyes meeting his, silently reassuring him. He nods slightly, then takes a breath, readying himself for what's to come.

Tia sat on the couch, her sobs quiet but constant, dabbing her swollen eyes with a tissue. Across the room, Diana moved gracefully between the guests, offering tea, coffee, and slices of cake. She had been by Tia's side since Michael's passing at the hospital, offering comfort as best as she could.

Zac's heart tightened seeing his mother in such a vulnerable state. He took a deep breath and finally spoke. "Ma."

Tia looked up, her tear-filled eyes meeting his before they shifted to Fatima standing beside him. The tension in the room thickened as Tia's gaze hardened.

"You brought this woman—" she began, but Zac cut her off with a groan. "Ma, not right now," he pleaded, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We only have each other, and all you still wanna do is fight."

Tia's expression faltered, her brow furrowing as Zac's words sunk in. Had she really spent so much time fighting with him that she hadn't seen how much they both needed each other?

Zac's tone softened, his eyes filling with empathy as he asked, "Can I hug you? Please, let me be there for you."

Tia glanced down at her trembling hands, the weight of her grief almost too much to bear. She hesitated, and Fatima gently nudged Zac, encouraging him to take the first step.

Zac knelt down in front of his mother and wrapped his arms around her. The embrace was warm, comforting. Slowly, Tia's defenses crumbled, and she leaned into him, her sobs returning, but this time softer, less burdened. She clung to her son, realizing how much she needed him, how much he was right—they only had each other now.