Page 81 of Certified Pressure 3
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the floor. “I’m here, ain’t I?”
The words came out low, but they still hit me. He was right. For whatever reason, he was still there. Part of me wanted to ask why, but I was too scared of the answer.
Hours passed before they finally cleared me to leave. The nurse came back in with paperwork, explaining the instructions about the medication they gave me and the follow-up appointment with the counselor. Pressure signed everything without saying much, and before I knew it, we were walking out of the hospital together.
The air outside was cool, and the sky was dark. I felt weak and still lightheaded from everything that happened. Pressure walked beside me with one hand on my back to keep me steady as we made it to the car. I could feel how different his energy felt.
The ride home was silent. I wanted to talk, or to say something that would fix everything, but the words wouldn’t come.
Pressure’s face stayed blank, his eyes straight ahead on the road. I could tell he was still trying to figure out what to do with me… with us. I knew he cared, but I also knew he was slipping into a space where love wasn’t enough anymore.
When we finally pulled up to the house, he parked and got out, walking around to open my door. I stepped out slowly, still weak, my legs shaky. He didn’t say much, but just guided me inside, his hand hovering near me like he was making sure I didn’t fall.
The elevator ride up felt long. I could feel the weight between us like a wall. When the doors opened, he walked me to the bedroom and helped me sit on the edge of the bed.
“You need to rest,” he said quietly.
I nodded, my eyes filling again. “Pressure, I’m sorry.”
He looked at me for a long time, then finally said, “We gon’ talk later. Right now, just chill.”
And that was it. He turned, walked out, and closed the door behind him.
When I finally laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the guilt came rushing in all over again. I thought dying would make everything stop, but now it just felt heavier.
Pressure was still here, but I knew I was losing him, and this time, I didn’t know how to get him back.
Royal Oaks subdivision in Trill-Land
One week later…
Ithought it was strange that I wasn’t hearing from Pressure several times a day like I normally did. He had been keeping it short all week, just checking in during the mornings to ask if I ate and texting at night to say goodnight, telling me to rub his baby and kiss Zurie on the cheek. That was it. There were no more long conversations, random calls just to hear my voice, no jokes, no nothing. It was like he had disappeared in plain sight.
At first, I told myself he was probably busy, but that excuse had already worn thin. Pressure was always busy, but he still made time to call. This felt different. His energy was off. He wasshort, cold, and hard to read. Deep down, I felt like I already knew what was going on, but I didn’t want to face it.
The sun was pouring through the blinds, creating soft stripes across the couch where I was sitting. My phone was in my hand, and I kept unlocking it like maybe the next time I checked, there would be a message from him waiting, but there was nothing. Just old messages and the same little “read” receipts that made my stomach twist.
After staring at the screen for a while, I went to Instagram. I had been avoiding Kashmere’s page because every time I saw it, I ended up feeling worse than before, but with Pressure acting funny, my curiosity started eating at me. I hesitated for a few seconds before typing her name in the search bar, and the second her page loaded, I wished I hadn’t.
The first picture was of her and Pressure sitting at some restaurant. She was leaned in close, her hand on his arm, smiling like she was living her best life. The caption said,“Dinner with my man. Grateful for a real one.
My chest tightened, but I scrolled again. There were more photos of shopping bags, designer stores, his chain in the background and Kashmere smiling like she owned the world. Then there was a picture of her lying next to him while he was asleep. His arm was draped over her waist, and she had written,“My peace. My forever.”
That one did it. I locked my phone so fast my hand shook. My stomach felt sick, and my heart was pounding so hard it felt like I could hear it. Of course, I knew they were together, but seeing it confirmed hit different. I sat there, staring at the floor, trying not to cry.
Just when I thought I could finally breathe, the doorbell rang.
Zurie came running from her room, holding her iPad. “Who is it? Is it Pressure?” She asked.
I stood up slowly and walked to the door, trying to calm my nerves. When I opened it, Pressure was standing there. He had on a plain white tee, and some black sweats. His arms were full of gift bags.
Before I could even process my thoughts, Zurie ran past me. “Pressure!” she squealed.
He smiled and bent down to her level, handing her both of the bags. “Here, lil’ mama. These for you.”
Her eyes lit up. “Thank you!” she said, hugging the bags to her chest before running back toward her room.
I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed. My heart was racing, but I refused to let him see it. “You need to stop spoiling her like that,” I said, my voice sharp.
