Page 142 of Invisible Bars

“No,” I answered, without hesitation. “I’m not.”

And I wasn’t.

Not of Naji’s smile, her story, or even the mess that came with protecting her. If anything, I was ashamed of the world around Naji. The eyes that wouldn’t understand. The people who would pick her apart before they ever saw her. But I couldn’t keep hiding her behind locked doors and good intentions. Eventually, I had to stop protecting Naji like a fragile possession and start standing beside her like a partner… ready to face the world together.

My father nodded slowly; his eyes fixed on me.

“Well, just make sure you treat her right then. Whatever got you two here—whether it was strategy or circumstance—make sure she feels chosen.”

“You sound like Grandma.” I sat with his words for a second, then added with a nod, “I hear you, though.”

Me and him chopped it up for another thirty minutes—light talk.

When he finally left, I made my way to Naji’s room. The door was cracked. She was curled up, watching something on TV, but turned it off the second she noticed me standing there.

“Is… is everything okay?” she asked, her voice soft and unsure.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

“So, next week my mama’s hosting one of her famous ‘family dinners.’ It’s something she throws when she either misses us or got some shit up her sleeves—usually both. Of course, I’m expected to be there… and I want you to come too.”

I could see her tics starting to surface—small, rapid movements that were just enough to signal that an emotional outburst might be brewing beneath her calm exterior.

I leaned forward, my voice low and soothing. “Naji, I know that meeting new people makes you anxious. But like my pops said, sooner or later, people are going to find out we’re married. I’d rather they hear it from me, in my own words, than piece it together from the blogs, where it could easily be twisted, or Dess’s Instagram story.”

That got a smile out of her—small, but genuine.

I could see her processing my words, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit as she focused on my reassurance.

“I’ll… I’ll go,” she agreed, catching me off guard.

I expected hesitation, pushback, or at least one sarcastic tic-laced rant about how stressful family functions were.

“Well... that was easier than I thought it would be,” I said with a slight chuckle.

“Only because I w-want to get out of this house,” she admitted, her voice trailing. “Speaking of w-which… when can I go back to work?”

“Not this week, but next,” I answered without pause. “I already talked to them. So you’re good. Just try to enjoy this time off.”

Naji nodded slowly, her eyes drifting down to her hands resting in her lap. A slight frown creased her forehead as she thought about the upcoming dinner.

“What will I wear to the dinner? And… my hair?”

Damn. I hadn’t even thought about that.

Naji was naturally beautiful—flawless skin, wild curls, no makeup necessary. But I knew meeting my mama meant appearances would matter, and not becauseIcared—but becauseGisellewould. And her idea of “acceptable” was impossible for most.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, scratching the side of my neck. “But I know Dess wouldn’t mind helping you with that. I’ll give her a call when I leave out of here.”

Naji hesitated again, then lifted her eyes to meet mine.

“And when will you turn my phone back on? I… I need it,” she said, almost in a desperate tone.

I could see a tic flutter in her fingers.

“And n-not for what you think,” she quickly added. “I just… I need to feel normal again.”

What Naji asked for wasn’t a demand, but it was the most direct she’d been with me in a while.