Page 23 of Certified Pressure 2

And then the part I never said out loud…

The doctors put my son in my arms anyway.

He was small, cold and wrapped in a blanket like he was sleepin’…

but he wasn’t. That was the first and last time I held him.

I can still feel how light he was, like holdin’ air, like he wasn’t even real.

But he was mine. And I felt like I failed him before he even got a chance to know me.

Ka’mari carried him in her body, but I carried the weight of losin’ him in my spirit every day after.

Ain’t no nigga ever gon’ understand what it felt like to be handed your child already gone and still be expected to walk out that hospital standin’ tall.

I wasn’t tall that day. I was hollow. I felt like less of a man, like I couldn’t even do the one thing that mattered—bring my son here safe.

That shit broke somethin’ in me and made me colder.

It made me guard my heart the way I guard my money, my name, my empire.

I had to make myself believe my son never existed because that was the only way I could cope.

And if I couldn’t protect my own flesh and blood, what the fuck was I really worth?

But even still, I put my own pain to the side and made sure Ka’mari was cared for.

She ain’t have to lift a finger. I lined her up with the best psychiatrist money could buy, and covered every bill so she wouldn’t ever stress about nothin’.

I kept her fed, kept her clothed, kept her world movin’, and held her every night while she cried in my arms when I barely knew how to keep myself together.

I took every ounce of energy I had left and poured it into her, tryna make sure she didn’t drown in her grief.

I was there in the ways a man was supposed to be when his woman break. I was solid, unshaken and present.

And still… it wasn’t enough. Ka’mari got so lost in her pain she couldn’t see I was fightin’ my own demons right next to her.

She never understood that my silence, my protectiveness, my paranoia—it was me havin’ reactions to trauma too.

I wasn’t tryin’ to control her. I was scared.

Scared of losin’ again. Scared that if I let her out my sight, the world would take what little I had left.

Then when she took those abortion pills behind my back, and got rid of our second baby, I lost control.

I couldn’t stand to hear Ka’mari cry over this shit, so I reached for her, pullin’ her into me. She didn’t fight it. She collapsed against my chest, sobbin’, beatin’ at me with weak fists before clingin’ to my shirt like she was drownin’.

I held her close, my chin on top of her head, my hand sliding up and down her back. My voice was low, damn near a whisper, but it was all I had left. “He was mine too. Don’t ever think I ain’t carry that with me. I just… I don’t know how to talk about it. I don’t know how to breathe through it.”

She cried harder, clingin’ to me like she needed me to hold her together. And I let her. I let her soak my shirt, let her feel my heartbeat under her cheek and let her know that no matter how much we hurt each other, we would always be tied through that loss.

I knew it wasn’t just her cryin’ for him. It was me too, even if I couldn’t let the tears fall.

And sittin’ here holdin’ her, I finally stopped runnin’ from it too.

My mind couldn’t stop driftin’ back to earlier with Ka’mari.

Talkin’ about our son, sayin’ shit out loud I swore I would never let leave my mind, cracked somethin’ open in me.

For the first time in years, I admitted to myself how bad that shit hurt.

Lettin’ it out to her… it gave me air, but it also tied me to her in a way I knew wasn’t good for either one of us.

That’s all me and Ka’mari ever been…fire and ashes.

Pain and love mixed up so deep we ain’t know where one end and the other start.

We was bound by what we lost, and sometimes that pull felt strong enough to drown in.

But I couldn’t live like this forever. With her bein’ back at the crib, forcin’ me to face my past, I was realizin’ this wasn’t foundation…

it was a wound. And I wasn’t tryna build a life off wounds.

What I really wanted was somethin’ that felt natural, easy and not forced. I no longer wanted somethin’ built on pain, or somethin’ I had to bleed for just to stay alive. I wanted a woman I could breathe with, not one I suffocated beside.

And that’s when my mind slid to Pluto.

While starin’ over the rail of my balcony, blowin’ one, my mind kept driftin’ back to her.

The night was quiet, the lights from the estate glowin’ across the pool, but I wasn’t seein’ none of that.

All I kept seein’ was Pluto. I thought about the way she looked at me the last time we was together, the way her body melted into mine when she came all over my dick.

She tried to act like she didn’t need me, but I felt everything she was fightin’ to hide.

The last time we made love had been stuck in my head like a loop I couldn’t cut off.

I remembered the way she clawed at my back like she wanted to pull me inside her for real, the way her breath came out hard against my neck when I made that pussy squirt, the way she screamed my name and cried that she loved me…

that wasn’t no random shit, and it wasn’t no fling.

And I hated that I knew that, ‘cause now every time I told myself to say fuck her, my body, heart and soul laughed at me.

Hell, bein’ with these women made me realize I was a simp for love. Deep down inside, I wanted somethin’ real. I wanted my parents had. I just didn’t know how to really go about the shit.

I pulled on the blunt, slow, lettin’ the smoke burn my lungs, while starin’ at her number sittin’ bold on my phone screen.

My thumb kept hoverin’ over it, then slidin’ back, like I couldn’t make my mind up.

But I already knew what it was. I needed to call her.

Not to talk about us, or to argue, but to handle what mattered most…

Zurie. That lil’ girl ain’t ask for none of this.

She was six years old, facin’ a surgery that cost more than her mama and daddy probably ever touched at once in they life.

Shit was thirty to forty bands. That’s what Pluto told me, like it broke her heart to even say it out loud.

And I told her I would take care of it. That was how I moved though—when I give my word, I stand on it.

It didn’t matter how I was feelin’ about Pluto right now.

It didn’t matter how raw she left me two days ago, this was bigger than that.

This was about a child’s life, and it wasn’t no amount of pride worth leavin’ a little girl sufferin’.

Still, it cut deep that I was even in this position.

I leaned on the rail, thinkin’ about how Pluto made me feel the other night.

She left me confused as hell. We had just been laid up, her skin warm on mine, her nails draggin’ through my beard after, her eyes all soft like she ain’t wanna go nowhere.

I remember pullin’ her close, smellin’ her hair, thinkin’ maybe this was somethin’ I could give myself to for real.

Then the next day, she flipped, puttin’ that wall right back up like none of it meant shit.

That’s what made me wanna say fuck her, close the book and move on.

But every time I tried to turn my back, I thought about Zurie’s face. The way Pluto cried when she told me about the seizures, the way she damn near broke when she said the doctors needed money up front to even put her on schedule. That shit stuck to me, and I couldn’t ignore it if I tried.

I flicked ash off the blunt, finished it down to the roach, then killed it in the tray. My phone was still glowin’, her name right there. I didn’t wanna hear her voice, but I needed to. I needed this handled so I could move on. I hit call before I could talk myself out of it.

It rang once, twice then three times. I was ‘bout to hang up when I heard her.

“Hello?”

Her voice was soft and almost made my throat close. I swallowed it down quick and made myself sound cool as hell. “Wus’ good?”

She went quiet like she had to double-check the screen. “Pressure?”

“Yeah.”

“I… hey.” She sounded unsure, like she ain’t know what to say. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“We was just together,” I told her. My tone came out flat, but inside I felt everything I was holdin’ back. “But this ain’t about that. I’mma send the money for Zurie’s surgery. I need whatever info you got so my accountant can handle it.”

She gasped a little, then tried to argue. “Pressure, you don’t have to do that?—”

“Pluto, go head with all that shit,” I cut her off. “This bigger than me and you. This about savin’ Zurie’s life. Don’t ever tell me what I ain’t gotta do when I already said I would. You hear me?”

Silence stretched, but I could feel her fightin’ tears through the line. Finally, her voice came back small. “Thank you.”

“Text me everything,” I said. “Hospital, account, doctor, whatever. Do it soon as we hang up. I’mma have my accountant wire forty bands to cover it all.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll send it. Thank you, Pressure. This means a lot to me.”

I clenched my jaw, starin’ off into the dark. “If it really meant a lot to you, you would’ve been out here wit’ me. Instead, you sittin’ over there like I ain’t been standin’ on how I feel about you.”

She let out a shaky breath. “See, this exactly what I mean. This why I told you I didn’t even want to take the money, because you just gon’ use it to make me feel guilty, like I asked to be in this position. I didn’t choose this. I can’t just leave my sister.”

“That’s cap, Pluto,” I said, my voice low but sharp. “You the one keep choosin’ to keep me at a distance. Don’t flip this shit on me like I’m the reason you feelin’ so fuckin’ conflicted. I told you I would take care of y’all, but you the one who don’t want it. Stop blamin’ yo’ sister.”

“Boy, is you serious right now?” Her voice spicy this time.

“Do it sound like I’m not bein’ serious right now? You playin’ with a nigga like you don’t know what it is with me.”

Her silence hung heavy for a second, then her voice cracked. “It hurts, Pressure. You don’t even understand how bad this hurt. I miss you. I love you. But I gotta do what I gotta do.”

That shit hit me hard. I gripped the rail tighter and said, “If you love me like you say you do, why you fightin’ me every step? Why you lettin’ pride get in the way when I’m tryna put us in a better spot?”

She sniffled on the line. “Are the girls still in your house?”

I leaned back. “Yeah…”

“See?” she whispered. “That’s exactly why I won’t come. I know what I’d be walkin’ into.”

“Man, don’t do that,” I snapped. “Don’t try to flip this shit on me.

They still in this bitch ‘cause you ain’t here.

You the one keepin’ yourself away, not me.

You worried about them, but the truth is you the one I been wantin’ here.

You forget I’m tryna get married? If you ain’t here, what the fuck you want a nigga to do?

Keep chasin’ behind you? You trippin’, girl. ”

We both went quiet, breathin’ hard through the phone, both too stubborn to break first. Finally, she said, soft but firm, “I gotta go.”

I closed my eyes, my chest heavy like I just lost a round in a fight I ain’t even train for. “A’ight,” I muttered, even though I wanted to beg her to stay.

The line clicked dead, and I stood there on the balcony with the phone still in my hand, feelin’ like the call gave me everything and nothin’ at the same time.

I was back to bein’ pissed off, and on the verge of goin’ to that raggedy ass apartment, and kickin’ the fuckin’ door in. But I had to keep my cool.

I knew once I sent this money to Pluto, it was over. Whatever me and her tried to build was done. She would have her sister straight, and she would have her peace, but as far as me and her… We was finished.