ʜᴇʀ ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ | ᴛᴀʀᴀꜱɪᴀ

ꜱɪxᴛʏ ᴏɴᴇ

ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴀ ʙᴀʀʀɪɴᴏ
ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 16, 2020

rico and mommy left last week. the house was silent again. a soft silent. laila was stretched out on the rug coloring.

i was curled up on the couch and my feet were in raji's lap while she rubbed them softly. we weren't even talking. just kind of being. i loved that with her.

every now and then, she'd glance up from her phone to make sure i wasn't uncomfortable or give me one of those soft smiles she only used when we were alone–the one where her eyes got real still and gentle like she was memorizing the moment.

i waited until she was in one of those looks before i asked it. "babe?"

"hmm?"

i bit the inside of my cheek. "when do you think you wanna tell your dad?"

she blinked, caught off guard just a little. "tell him what?"

i gave her a soft look. "about the baby."

she paused. her thumb slowed against my ankle.

she looked away, down at the floor like it had something to say. "i don't know."

"you don't have to if you're not ready," i said quickly, sitting up a bit. "i was just wondering. that's all."

she nodded slowly. "it's not that i don't want to. it's just...he missed so much already," she said, voice quieter now. "he missed laila being born. missed birthdays. missed all the holidays and me learning how to be somebody's mom without any help." she looked over at me. "and now... now there's this little baby we made and i want to tell him, but part of me feels like... like maybe he doesn't deserve to know yet....because of the pain, but i do believe people can change. he's not who he was back then and maybe this is part of me learning to let that pain go. not forget it... just stop letting it control everything."

i reached over and brushed her curls back gently. "then we'll wait. until it feels right. no pressure, no deadline."

she nodded again, slower this time. more sure of it.

"it does feel good having you here to even ask me things like this," she added with a little laugh. "a year ago, nobody was asking me anything. i was just surviving."

i leaned over and kissed her cheek. "you're not just surviving anymore. you're growing."

she looked at my belly like it was a miracle. "so is this baby."

"yeah," she whispered. "and when i tell him... i want it to be in person. not over the phone. not through a picture. i wanna look him in the eye and let him feel the weight of what he missed and what he still has a chance to show up for."

i smiled softly. "that sounds like something worth waiting for."

she kissed the back of my hand. "thank you for asking."

"anytime."

we sat there for a long time after that. no more words. just toes tangled under the blanket, laila humming in the background, and the quiet stretch of evening pressing itself softly across the room.

***

ᴛᴀʀᴀᴊɪ ʜᴇɴꜱᴏɴ
ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 17, 2020

today was the day we were going out to look for a christmas tree and a some christmas decor. a year ago around this time you'd probably catch us celebrating christmas with just a candle and a prayer. it was more than enough for me since it was all i had, but this time around it feels whole.

what doesn't feel whole is my beautiful and pregnant woman trying to leave the house when i told her myself or tab will get her everything she needs while we're out. i refuse for anyone to so much as take pictures or run up on her and something happens– i don't wanna risk it. i'd probably end up in jail for hurting someone.