Page 126 of Tangled Hearts
Nick opened his mouth, but she lifted a hand.
“But that little girl in me…” her voice trembled. “She still wishes you had done all this from the jump. When I was eight. When I used to hide your pipe behind the fridge hoping it’d make you stop. When I used to make up stories at school ‘cause I didn’t want nobody knowing you was getting high in the kitchen while I cooked ramen.”
Nick shut his eyes, chest folding like it caved in.
“That little girl still cries sometimes. Still wishes she didn’t have to be strong so early. I think she wanted to be daddy’s baby more than anything.”
Nick’s voice was thick. “She was. She always was.”
“Then why didn’t you act like it?” she asked. “Why you leave her to figure shit out on her own?”
“I ain’t got no excuse, Knyc. Just regret. Deep, ugly ass regret. Some days I don’t even like looking in the mirror because I failed you… my one creation, I failed.”
Simone cleared her throat.
Knycole let her hands fall into her lap. “I don’t wanna live in the past, but some of that pain still lives in me. And I know it shows up in how I love people. But I’m working through it. I just need you to keep showing up, even on the days I’m not the easiest to love.”
Nick stood up, holding his hand out. “You got that. I’m not letting go again. Not for nobody. I got you, baby girl.”
She stood, falling into his arms. They both cried long and hard.
Her chin wobbled, but she smiled through it. “I got you too… Old Nick.”
Simone scribbled something, then looked up. “That’s the work. It’s not just about what you lost. It’s about what you’re rebuilding. And you both just laid a new brick down.”
Parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It’s about choosing your child, over and over, even when it’s late. Even when they’re grown. Even when they don’t ask you to. It’s about owning what you broke and still reaching for the pieces with both hands. Because kids remember. They don’t need you to be a superhero—they just need to know you would’ve fought for them if you knew how.
And some parents don’t learn how until the damage is already done.
But the ones who come back and stay. The ones who take the long road to redemption and don’t flinch when their child holds a mirror up to them… they still get to matter.
And Nick.
Nick was mattering now.
Knycole sat in her car outside the office after their session ended and Nick went home. Her face was still sticky from her tears.
She wasn’t numb. Just tired of carrying shit that wasn’t hers. Her father’s addiction. Her mama’s death. The ache of being a daughter no one protected.
She loved Hov and Rock because they made her feel like she mattered.
Two different boys. Two different kinds of love. But both filled a hole she was too young to name.
Rock gave her fire. He kissed her with desire. Held her like he would break if she ever let go. It was messy and loud… but it made her feel like she existed.
Hov gave her safety. Laughed with her, showed up even when she was too scared to ask for help. He looked at her like she was where his world started and ended. He would change the earth’s orbit if she asked him too. Hov made her chest ache when he stayed out late. She learned how to pray just to cover him. He believed she could truly be any and everything at the same damn time. His love made her feel sure, certain, and whole.
They both loved her. And that’s where she got it wrong.
She thought broken people didn’t get to choose. That the first people to really see her were the ones she owed herself to.
But love wasn’t supposed to feel like a split. Like tug-of-war. Like guilt and comfort bleeding into each other until you forget who you are without the pull.
She wasn’t a girl who loved two boys.
She was a girl who never learned what love without pain looked like.
Real love shows up in the wreckage and stays when the sun comes out. Picks up the pieces without making you feel like you ruined everything.
