Page 32 of Girl, We Go Together
“You’re carrying too much,” she whispered. “I know you are.”
Her touch was warm and welcoming, but it didn’t ease the storm in me. I kept thinking about how Ma would’ve looked at me if she knew. She always wanted better for me. And here I was, tangled up with the widow of the man who helped put her in the ground. With a woman who was the seed of even starting this beef.
“I gotta carry it all,” I muttered. “Orion needs me. We are both hurting, but we can’t let it break us. I can’t afford not to carry it all when this shit is my fault.”
Lucia tilted her face up at me, her eyes soft, searching.
“And what about you, Omari? Who do you lean on?”
I didn’t have an answer. All I had was this pit in my stomach and the feel of her hand sliding into mine, even though I knew it was wrong. Grief and desire. Shame and comfort. All of it tangled together in this one room, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold it together. Lucia’s fingers tightened around mine, her body leaning into me like she could pour herself into my cracks and make me whole. But there was no way a bitch who was responsible for breaking everything could put the pieces back together again.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she whispered as her lips brushed the side of my jaw. “I can be here for you, Omari. I am here. Fresh is gone now… It’s just us.”
Her words sank in like poison, burning in my chest. I jerked back and stared at her.
“Us?” My voice came out sharp and beastlike, almost like a growl.
She flinched but didn’t let go.
“Why are you acting like this? We always wanted him gone. You know that. I can be all yours?—”
“Don’t,” I snapped while standing up so quickly the chair nearly toppled.
I never wanted her all to myself at the cost of losing my mother. My chest heaved, and I was so angry that it felt like heat was crawling up my neck.
“Don’t fucking stand here and act like this is some kind of blessing. Like Fresh being gone is a green light for us. Are you even fucking paying attention to what I lost?”
Her eyes glistened, but I couldn’t stop now. Everything I’d bottled up came spilling out.
“If we never crossed that line, me and Fresh wouldn’t have had beef. He wouldn’t have stolen from me, and Orion wouldn’t have had a reason to steal from him. He wouldn’t have set this shit off. And maybe…” My voice cracked, but I forced the words out. “Maybe Ma would still be alive.”
Lucia shook her head while tears streamed down her cheeks. “You can’t blame me for that?—”
“The fuck I can’t!” I roared, slamming my fist into the wall so hard that pain shot through my knuckles. “Every time I look at you, I see the mess I made. I see the reason my family’s broken right now. You think I can be around your ass and act like things are regular?”
Silence choked the room. Lucia stood there trembling with her lips parted, but she didn’t speak again. I turned my back on her. My body was shaking, and I was about to see red; I felt it. The grief, the rage, and the guilt were all too much. I wanted to tear the whole room apart. Instead, I buried my face in my hands and forced out the truth I hated most.
“I can’t even look at you without hating myself.”
Lucia stepped toward me, slow and careful, like she was approaching a vicious animal. Her hands reached for me, trembling, but steady enough to brush against my arm.
“Omari…” she whispered. Her voice was soft and pleading. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just… I just wanted you. I still want you.”
That broke something in me. All the anger I’d been swallowing, all the grief I’d been masking under silence, came rushing out like floodwater.
“Want me?” My voice cracked, and before I knew it, I was snatching the lamp off the table and hurling it against the wall. Glass shattered, and pieces rained to the floor. “You think this isabout what you want? You want me, and you know who the fuck I want… my mother.”
Lucia gasped but didn’t back away. I grabbed the chair next, flinging it against the dresser until the wood split. The impact caused the drawers to rattle. My chest heaved, and sweat rolled down my temples as I kept destroying everything within reach.
Every smash felt like a scream I couldn’t let out; every crack of breaking furniture echoed my mother’s death in my head. Lucia reached for me again. This time, she was sobbing uncontrollably.
“Omari, please?—”
“Get out!” I yelled as veins bulged in my neck.
My vision blurred with tears, but I couldn’t stop now. I let the space closest to me have it. My fists became raw and bloody from the blows I’d landed on the wall. She shook her head, and mascara streaked down her cheeks.
“I have nowhere to go… you know that. I can’t?—”
