Sane

Chapter.30

Monday morning

Dezmon stood outside, the chill of the early morning air biting at his skin as he took a long drag from his blunt. The smoke curled around him, momentarily obscuring his thoughts, but Niya's haunting words pierced through the haze. "I don't know if I wanna be here or not," she had said, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I don't know if I'll live to see us graduate or even after graduation."

Each word felt like a weight pressing down on his chest. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the dawn, wishing it could carry away his fears. Niya was everything to him—her laughter, her dreams, her light—and the thought of her questioning her own existence shattered him.

The reality of her struggles hit hard. She was so much more than the good girl everyone saw; she was a warrior fighting battles he couldn't fully understand. He remembered the way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears, the way she had looked at him as if searching for reassurance he wasn't sure he could provide.

"Why can't you see how incredible you are?" he murmured to himself, frustration boiling beneath the surface. He wanted to shake her, to make her understand that life held so much promise beyond their current chaos. But how could he convince her when he felt so lost himself?

Dezmon leaned against the railing, staring at the horizon as the sun began to rise, casting a warm glow over everything. He thought about their future—college plans, dreams of travel, late-night talks about everything and nothing. How could she doubt all of that? How could she think there was no reason to keep fighting?

He took another drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before releasing it slowly. "I can't let you go like this," he whispered into the quiet morning. "You're not alone in this fight; I'm here with you."

Determination surged within him. He needed to show Niya that life was worth living—that they could face whatever came next together. Today would be different; he would reach out to her, remind her of their dreams and how much she meant to him.

With one last look at the rising sun, Dezmon crushed the blunt in his hand and flicked it away, ready to confront the darkness clouding Niya's heart and remind her of the light they shared.

Dezmon slipped into the kitchen, the soft morning light filtering through the window, casting a warm glow over the countertops. He felt a sense of purpose as he moved about, determined to make this morning special for Niya. The weight of her words from last night still lingered in his mind, but he hoped that a simple gesture could bring a smile to her face and remind her of the love they shared.

He started by cracking a few eggs into a bowl, whisking them vigorously until they were fluffy and bright yellow. The sound of the eggs hitting the pan was comforting, a rhythmic sizzle that filled the silence of the house. He added a pinch of salt and pepper, savoring the aroma that began to rise. Next, he sliced some fresh tomatoes and tossed them in with the eggs, letting them soften and release their juices.

While the eggs cooked, he moved on to the bacon, placing strips in another pan. The smell of sizzling bacon filled the air, rich and savory, making his stomach rumble in anticipation. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of Niya waking up to this feast. She loved breakfast—especially when it was made with love.

As he worked, Dezmon's mind wandered back to their conversation. Niya had seemed so lost, so unsure about her future. He wanted to be her rock, to show her that life could be beautiful despite its challenges. This breakfast was more than just food; it was a way to express his love and commitment to her.

Once everything was cooked to perfection, he carefully arranged it on a tray: fluffy scrambled eggs with tomatoes, crispy bacon, and two slices of buttered toast. He added a small vase with a single flower he had picked from their garden—a little touch that would hopefully brighten her morning even more.

With the tray balanced in one hand, Dezmon made his way upstairs. The house was quiet except for the soft creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet. He paused outside Niya's bedroom door, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He knew this gesture wouldn't solve all her problems, but he hoped it would remind her that she wasn't alone—that he was there for her.

Pushing the door open gently, he stepped inside. The room was dimly lit by the soft light filtering through the curtains. Niya lay curled up under the covers, her hair spilling over the pillow like a dark halo. She looked peaceful in her sleep, but Dezmon could see traces of worry etched on her face even in rest.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said softly as he approached the bed.

Niya stirred slightly but didn't wake up right away. Dezmon set the tray down on her bedside table and leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I made you breakfast," he whispered.

At that moment, she opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the light as she took in her surroundings. When she spotted him and the tray beside her, a sleepy smile spread across her lips—a sight that made his heart swell.

"You didn't have to do this," she murmured, propping herself up on one elbow.

"I wanted to," Dezmon replied earnestly. "You mean so much to me, Niya. I thought maybe some breakfast could help start your day off right."

She sat up fully now and glanced at the tray with wide eyes filled with surprise and appreciation. "Wow! This looks amazing!"

"Just wait until you taste it," he grinned back at her.

As she began to dig into her breakfast, Dezmon felt a wave of relief wash over him. For that moment, everything felt right in their world. They shared laughter and stories between bites—simple moments that reminded him why they fought so hard for each other.

"Thank you for this," Niya said softly after finishing a mouthful of eggs. "It really means a lot."

Dezmon reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "We're going to get through this together," he promised. "I'm here for you always."