taraji h.
tasia was on the couch with me, her legs draped over mine, her head resting on my shoulder. some old movie played in the background, neither of us really watching. my phone was face down on the coffee table. hers was forgotten somewhere in the cushions.
winter and bryce had been out like lights for over an hour. autumn took longer than usual, but she finally drifted off too. i had checked on her twice. once because i wanted to, once because i needed to see her chest rising and falling just to remind myself that everything was okay.
tasia traced slow circles on my arm.
"you good?" she asked softly.
"yeah," i said. and i meant it. "just tired."
she smiled against my skin. "happy tired."
i nodded. that was the right word. happy. this was the life i fought for. this was the ending i earned.
someone knocked. just three soft taps.
tasia lifted her head. "you expecting somebody?"
i shook my head. "nah. only a hand full got this address and they should be sleep."
i stood, confused, thinking it was a neighbor or a wrong door. when i opened it, nobody was there. just a large envelope sitting on the doormat.
no logo. no return address. just my name.
my stomach tightened for no reason i could explain.
i brought it inside and set it on the entry table.
"what is it?" tasia asked.
"probably some junk," i said. "i'll open it later."
i didn't touch it again. we went back to the couch. finished the movie. kissed goodnight. did our usual check on the kids. tasia fell asleep before me, her arm heavy across my chest.
but i couldn't stop thinking about that envelope. so when her breathing evened out, i carefully slid from under her and went back to the living room.
the house felt different at night. bigger. lonelier.
i sat at the table and stared at my name for a long time before finally tearing it open.
inside was a folded letter and a lab report.
my heart started pounding before i even read a word.
the letter was short.
"enclosed are the results you requested. if you have questions, please contact our office."
i unfolded the report.
my eyes scanned until they landed on a name.
winter henson.
my breath left my body. i dropped my gaze lower, my fingers starting to shake.
then i saw it.
probability of maternity: excluded.
my ears rang. i read it again. and again. like it would change if i stared hard enough.
excluded. i slid down into the chair, my knees weak, my chest burning like i'd been punched.
this wasn't possible.
i raised her. i fed her. i held her when she cried. i taught her how to pray and how to ride a bike and how to stand up for herself.
she was mine but the paper didn't care about love. it only cared about blood.
"r..."
tasia's voice made me flinch.
