Page 160 of Rome: The Ballerina

Around.

Around.

Around.

Around.

Around.

Until finally, both feet hit the floor and her eyes popped open. Joy and sadness and despair and fear and pride became her.

She gazed in my direction. Lovingly. Thankfully.

“It’s beautiful.”

Next to the studio I'd finished for her on the lower level of my home was a basketball court. A pickleball court. An indoor football field. And, an open area that I had yet to figure out a purpose for. The lower level was the same square footage as my home. There was so much left unfinished and unfurnished, but would be over time.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

I leaned against the wall, watching her have her way on the wood, wishing she’d join me on the court tonight. I needed her by my side, but she had shit to handle and so did I.

And, I love you.

I steppedout of my whip with a chip on my shoulder. My tardiness wasn’t intentional, but getting out of the house was easier said than done. I had to get Rome to the theater safely. Right now, she was my first priority.

The ring was my second. I knew, undoubtedly, it was mine. I had to bring it back to her tonight. I’d promised. And, I didn’t break my promises. Not to Mellow.

“Son–”

My father met me at the entrance of the building.

“Pops, what’s up?”

“Everything alright? We’ve been calling you. Coach been looking for you.”

“I’m here.”

“Well, obviously, brown-eyed fucker.”

I paused, glaring at him with the same brown eyes he had passed on to me.

“Not today, man. Not today.”

I took off, heading for the door. Just as quickly, I was pulled back and led to the side of the tunnel, behind the cars of the coaching staff and a few teammates.

“Sac. What’s the matter? Is everything alright with Rome?”

I looked off into the distance, feeling my heart breaking in my chest. Hundreds and hundreds of pieces shattering with no one to catch them. I flexed my nostrils, willing myself not to shed a fucking tear. To keep it together. To keep my shit intact. But, Rome wasmybaby.

It didn’t matter what she meant to others. She meant the world to me. And, I thought the world of her. She was resilient, but she was hurting. I wouldn’t be there for her tonight. Just like I wasn’t there when all of this shit was happening to her. Through her.

“Son– talk to me. Is everything alright?”

“She was pregnant,” I confessed, unable to look my pops in the eye.

A tear fell down my cheek. I swiped it as quickly as it came.

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