How I Been

Part 4.9

The night before his release, Hector sat awake on the edge of his bunk, staring at the concrete floor. Every breath felt heavy in his chest. Freedom was so close, but it didn't feel real. His fingers twitched nervously on his thighs. His body was stiff, muscles tight from too many years of sleeping in fear, of waiting for fights, of never fully relaxing.

He should've been ecstatic. Part of him was. but mostly, he was terrified. What if everything he dreamed about didn't feel the same on the outside? What if Jamal changed? What if he wasn't enough for the life waiting for him? What if he couldn't fix the hole Shawn's death left inside him?

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his head dropping into his hands. His heart raced.

Tomorrow. He would walk out tomorrow. He wasn't scared of the outside world. He was scared of being a disappointment to his new family and to his oldest daughter.

The hours dragged along painfully slow. Every sound made echoed louder than normal. Hector didn't sleep. he   couldn't. He kept replaying tomorrow over and over again: seeing Jamal's face, feeling his babies in his arms, finally breathing without walls around him.

When the guards came the next morning, Hector was already dressed and standing by the door. His clothes hung awkwardly on his frame, prison-issue khakis and a gray Tshirt   that felt even heavier than before.

The walk out was a blur. Paperwork, signatures. His body moved on autopilot. Then, just like that, the doors opened.

Sunlight hit him. For a moment he wanted to bathe in it.

He squinted, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. It had been so long since he'd seen the world without bars slicing the view into pieces.

There, parked right at the curb, was Nita's old black SUV. He could see her in the driver's seat, her hands clenching and unclenching the wheel. Adonis was in the passenger seat, waving wildly through the windshield. Hector could tell the slender male   was trying to hide from the rest of the guards.

Hector's knees nearly buckled.

He forced himself forward, every step shaky. Before he could even reach the car fully, Nita jumped out, jogging to meet him halfway. Without warning, Hector collapsed into her, burying his face in Nita's shoulder.

He broke.

The sobs ripped out of him, raw and ugly, years of pain and fear and hope spilling all at once. Nita didn't flinch. She just wrapped her arms tight around Hector, rocking him slowly.

"It's okay, hermano," Nita murmured, rubbing Hector's back. "You're good. You made it."

Adonis came around too, wrapping both arms around Hector's shaking body from the other side. He was crying too, his voice thick. "You're home, Hector. You're home."

Home. The word crushed him even more.

Adonis helped him into the backseat, sliding in next to him while Nita pulled away from the prison lot. Hector pressed his forehead to the cool glass, tears still dripping silently down his cheeks. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

He was going to see Jamal, His babies. And frankly, He was terrified.

"What if he's different?" Hector whispered, so low it was almost a thought. "What if he doesn't want me the same?"

Adonis reached over, gripping his shoulder. "He's not different. You're not different. What you have?  That's real, man.   You don't lose something like that just because of some distance."

Hector nodded, but the fear didn't leave. It clung to him, clawed   at him.

They stopped at a strip mall a few towns over. Nita and Adonis led Hector into a clothing store, helped him pick out jeans, a soft T-shirt, a hoodie. Something simple. Something his.   Hector moved like he was underwater, just following their lead.