𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝟓

𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝟔

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐓

After a long day of grieving and constant reminders of the loss of another brother, my mind felt stained with the thought of Stevanna, mixed with a hint of guilt. I knew she was struggling, and the weight of it sat heavily on my chest. As Christopher and I sat in the front of our Lincoln, I stayed quiet, lost in my thoughts, letting the silence envelop us.

The kids were quiet too, nestled in the leather brown back seats. Story had her AirPods in, scrolling through her phone, completely absorbed in her world. I couldn't help but admire her youthful energy, a reminder of better days, but even that felt bittersweet now. Eissa was knocked out asleep, his head leaning against the window, a string of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. He looked so peaceful, so innocent, and for a moment, I wished I could shield him from all the pain that life had to offer.

Glancing at him through the rearview mirror, my heart swelled with both love and worry. He was just a child, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this loss would affect him and his sister in ways they didn't yet understand. The younger generations of the Jacksons had seen too much loss, and now, with Tito gone, I feared what it would mean for my kids, for my nieces and nephews.

What would they take from this? How would they process the grief? It was my responsibility to help them navigate these turbulent waters, but how could I do that when I was still trying to figure it out myself? The pain of losing another brother felt like a wound that would never fully heal, and I knew that each of us would carry it in our own way.

I stole another glance at Eissa, his peaceful face a stark contrast to the chaos of my thoughts. I wanted to protect him, to shield him from the heartache that had become a part of our family's narrative. The legacy of loss hung over us like a dark cloud, threatening to overshadow the joy we had always tried to cultivate.

The road stretched out ahead of us, the headlights illuminating the darkness as we drove on. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath, letting it all settle. I needed to be strong for my children, for my family, but I also needed to acknowledge my own grief. It was a delicate balance, and I hoped I could find it before it was too late.

As we continued our drive, the quiet hum of the car filled the space, but my mind was racing, still tangled in thoughts of Stevanna and what tomorrow might hold for all of us. I thought about how short life was and how much I had missed out on during Stevanna's early days. Those memories felt like distant echoes, reminders of the moments that should have been ours. I realized it was time for me to step up in a way I should have done all those years ago. It's never too late, I reminded myself, as long as I'm still kicking and fighting for our bond.

Christopher glanced at me, one hand firmly on the steering wheel, and I felt his eyes on me. I avoided his gaze, knowing that if I looked too long, I'd break down and pour out everything I was feeling. I needed to keep it together, just for now.

He must have sensed my turmoil because, without saying a word, he took his free hand and gently grabbed my hand from my lap. His touch was a grounding presence, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of my emotions.

Once we finally made it home, Christopher effortlessly hoisted Eissa onto his shoulder. The boy was still fast asleep, his little body relaxed against his father. I smiled at the sight, feeling a mix of love and longing for the relationship I wanted to cultivate with Stevanna.

Later that night, I crawled into bed first, slipping into my black silk pajama pants and matching spaghetti strap top. I sat up, the sheets cool against my skin, and my thoughts drifted back to Stevanna. The guilt weighed heavy in my chest. Tito had always been present in his boys' lives, from the moment they entered this world until the day he left us. And here I was, burdened with the knowledge that I couldn't say the same for Stevanna and myself.