I should’ve just waited a little longer before chasing after her.

God, why did I say it like that? Keisha was asking for a picture of a stable future, and I kept poking holes in it. I basically could’ve condensed it to: ‘Yeah, I took you away from your home, job, and city. I’m all you have now, yet the guilt and insecurity are beginning to eat my confidence. Please don't hate me.’ 

God, I feel like I'm in my twenties again...but somehow worse. This had many more complications and was far more severe. I didn't fault her for blowing up.

Hell, I should’ve expected it with how bad I explained myself. I mean, Keisha is so passionate but deflates easily when it feels like she’s unwanted. Saw it time and time again in the group chat, and I’d have to message her privately to bring her back in. Except I’m the one who made her feel that way this time.

Would she even want to talk to me? What if she starts to really see how crazy this is? That she can do better than a lonely thirty-something? 

As I neared her door, I heard a pot crash and tried not to react when she gasped. I guess she didn’t do it on purpose based on the faint sounds of sniffling and pacing. It's only as I lean against the door that I hear her speaking.

“He’s not going to leave.” 

My chest aches at the unsure tone of her voice. I don’t want her to ever think, let alone believe, the opposite. 

“He knows I’m not perfect…yet he still picked me.” 

That’s right, my love.  

Keisha mumbles under her breath, too low for me to make out anything other than her sniffling a few more times. I close my eyes, hating that she’s in pain alone. 

But what really makes me feel guilty is hearing her worry about giving me a chance—believing that I meant what I said. Her voice is so small and broken that I know I can’t mess up going forward. I need her to know I’m here, just a few chapters ahead in the process.

“Will you stay with me when I talk to him,” sends a mix of relief and nerves throughout my entire body. I knew about the voices already—they started when Keisha hit puberty and have been constant ever since—and if Keisha was calming this quickly, then it must have been Jamie. He’s always the sound of reason for her. 

And I thank it because I hear her take a few deep breaths before padding to the door. I raise my hand in enough time to make it look like I just arrived when she opens the door. 

Her eyes and nose are puffy and irritated. Not to forget, my baby’s hair and clothes are all disheveled. The worst part is her shaking as her breathing hiccups.  

“Keisha.”

Not sparing another second, I embrace her. I’m not tall, but I have enough inches on her that she can tuck her face into my neck. We say nothing for a while, just co-regulating in the middle of the doorway for a few minutes. Only as I feel her sink into me do I try to speak again.

“We can talk later, baby. For right, do you want to go lay down together?”

She remains non-verbal, but I do feel her slight nod into my throat. Instead of her room, which looked like a tornado swept through, I walked us further into the hallway to my room. Maybe one day it’ll become our main bedroom. 

It’s bland, if not stereotypical, with its white walls, navy bedding, and minimal furniture. I would be embarrassed if I didn't remember how Keisha told Venus she thought decorating a bedroom was serious business. Maybe she'd never fully move in here, but I definitely could see the gears turning as she looked around. I’d happily welcome any changes if it makes her want to join me more often.

I let her climb in the back as I turn the lamp on my nightside. As I settle into the bed, Keisha silently tugs at my shirt, motioning upward. Taking the hint, I remove the offending article and wait. She only pushes me to my side, entwining our legs together. I try not to laugh as she positions my left arm under her so my hand can rest on her ass. Keisha unknowingly almost breaks me as she directs my free hand on her scalp, squeezing it until I get the message and begin massaging. Feeling her relax eases the tension in me, and I dare to kiss her temple.

Like a starved flower, she leans into the affection, soaking in every new kiss with a sigh and inching closer. It almost feels like my attention is the only thing she’s storing for later…or worse, is convinced she’ll ever get. One day, I’ll help her understand that it’s not true. That she is so special, anyone worth their salt would love her. She’s the one with all the power because she could break me with so few words if she wanted. 

I just don’t want to let her down.