"You should've seen the way I stood up for myself today, you'd be proud," I said taking another sip.

"Or maybe you would tell me that I should've slapped her ass back," I laughed.

I sat on the grass with a bottle of Bacardi in hand, taking sips every now and then. My vision was blurred and my head cloudy from all the liquor. This was my first time coming to Dashawn's grave since he was buried.

I looked around the private cemetery at the different headstones. Some were small and some were big. I personally preferred the smaller ones. They looked nicer and didn't draw a lot of attention. I also noticed that some graves had real or fake flowers, some balloons, also little trinkets, but some held nothing but vegetation. Dashawn's grave had a grass marker headstone made out of bronze and a granite rim. It was beautiful and simplistic, but made a statement and was probably one of the more expensive ones in the vicinity. Even though his marker was well kept, it was bare of any personal items or decorations. Maybe I'll bring some flowers or something next time.

I took a deep breath to keep from crying. It's been a minute since I thought about how fucked up my life is. Being back here reminds me of that. When I'm three and a half hours away, it's like I'm in my own little sanctuary away from all the drama—just me and Royce. That's how I like it. Do I get lonely, sure, but I'd rather be lonely than constantly reminded of what I lost or being reminded of my childhood trauma. Not to mention, Royce has finally made friends and she seems to be getting comfortable at her new school. If she's happy I'm happy. But speaking of Royce.

"Not to change the subject so quickly, but I've been thinking of ways to tell your daughter about you. Her name is Imani by the way, and she has your last name of course. You'd get a kick out of her middle name though—it's Royce. Like your car," I smiled.

"I thought it was fitting since I won the bet. It didn't feel right for me to just take your car or anything that belonged to you for that matter, so I left it where you left it. I don't ever plan on taking it. Maybe Meech will sell it or something, along with your house. I don't know. I wish you would have written down what to do with them, but I guess you didn't plan on dying so soon to begin with."

The sun was starting to set so I probably had another thirty minutes before it got dark. I spent most of the time talking about my drama-filled day, but now that my time was running out, I wanted to get everything off my chest. Who knows when I'll be back to his grave again. I scooted closer to his headstone, touching the letters engraved on it. The back of my throat stung from trying so hard not to cry.

"Anyway, Imani just turned five two days ago. She went skating for the first time and she loved it. She's getting so big, yet still so small at the same time. I think she's like the shortest in her class. It's cute. But you know, kids grow and develop at different rates. Who knows, maybe next year around this time she'll be the tallest in her class. Oh, and she started preschool late since I was basically teaching her myself. But after I started my new job, which I worked my ass off to get, I had to enroll her in school. She's not behind or anything, but she most likely won't start kindergarten until just before she turns six."

"Ummm, what else," I said wiping my face.

"Imani loves animals—penguins, turtles, seals, mostly aquatic animals. But she loves dogs too. I might get her a puppy one day. I don't know. Umm, her favorite color changes weekly. This week it's blue." I sat the bottle down and held my head in my hands.

"What else," my voice cracked.

"I think she looks like you, but people say she's my twin. I think that like overall, she looks like me, but I see some resemblances to you." It was quiet as I thought for a second.

"I'm still clean, by the way. Been clean for years now, but I've kinda picked up a little drinking habit. I don't know. I guess it fills the void. I definitely don't drink or smoke around Royce. I'm not that crazy. I gotta have some morals." There was so much I wanted to get off my chest, but my thoughts were just a jumbled mess in my head, no clear direction.

"I think the thought of Imani not having a dad has sunk in, but that doesn't make it any easier. One day she will ask about you and I will tell her, but other than that, I won't bring it up; I won't bring you up at all until she asks. You can be mad at me all you want, but I don't think it's necessary to bring up someone she can't have. It's like taunting her in a way. Until she gets to an age where she is consciously aware and curious as to why she doesn't have a dad, ignorance is bliss." I shook my head, feeling annoyed at the circumstances. I guess it is what it is now. I just have to suck it up and make the best of it.

"I don't know when I'll be back. I still feel this petty resentment towards you. It's one sided of course. But you're no longer here and I have to get over it at some point. Shit, maybe I'll start putting myself out there again. If you were here, you'd probably encourage me to do so. Or maybe you'd come to your senses and we would actually be together," I sighed staggering to my feet.

"Oh right, but you weren't a relationship type of nigga." I shrugged taking a long sip before pouring the last of the liquor on his grave. I guess we will never know.

"It's getting late. Bye D." I tried taking a step away when I nearly fell back on my ass. Shit. I swayed around the different headstones trying not to bump into any of them. Meech wasn't too far away, but it seemed like forever by the time I actually reached him. I stepped onto the pavement, reaching for anything to balance myself.

"Asha."

"Huh?!" I jumped. I forgot for a second where I was.

"Oh, my bad. I think I drank maybe a little too much." He guided me to the car and I plopped down into the seat, pulling my legs into the car.

"Give me a second or two before you start the car," I said feeling lightheaded. I hope I don't throw up in this man's car. Meech didn't say anything but closed the door. I thought he was about to get in on his side, but he went off somewhere instead. By the time he came back, I had started to doze off with my head pressed against the window. The sound of him closing the door startled me awake. "Where did you go?" I asked.

"To pay my respects." He started the car and drove off.

"Do you come here often?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I be busy."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

"For relief," was all he said. He didn't need to say more. I understood what he meant and I appreciated the kind gesture. It meant a lot especially since I needed that—I needed the chance to get some things off my chest even if I was literally talking to myself. It still felt good to clear my head for the time being.

"Meech?"

"Wassup."

"You've been like my silent partner today, driving me around and helping me with my shit even though I didn't ask. But, I should be just as considerate and ask you how you are doing. You grew up with D. You knew him way better than I ever did. It must be hard for you. Is it hard for you?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't want to overstep. He was silent except for the odd look he sent my way.

"I guess niggas don't just sit around talking about their feelings," I rolled my eyes when he didn't bother to respond.

"There's nothing wrong with showing emotions. Having feelings doesn't make you any less of a man Meech," I frowned.

"Ion care about that soft shit," he stated calmly.

"Why not?"

"Cuz it's life. If I sat around always thinking about my misfortunes, I would be miserable and angry all the time. I handle my shit my way and move on. I don't talk about it."

"That's not healthy," I mumbled.

"How so? Who said it wasn't?"

"My therapist used to tell me that getting things off my chest was important, almost crucial to maintaining my mental health. She used to tell me to never hold things in, just let it out."

"And you think you can do that just by talking?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I guess I just assumed that the only way to get things off of your chest is through talking, that's why I kept up with my appointments for so long. I talked, she listened. It works for a lot of people."

"And did that work for you?" He asked. It was an honest question that made me stop and think. Did it work? In some ways it did, but in a lot of ways, maybe it didn't. Maybe, the reason why I just stopped going one day was because it wasn't working. I said nothing in response to his question.

"Then you must think I'm annoying. All I've been doing is crying and sulking or talking about my misfortunes."

"You got every right to feel how you want. I just know that that emotional talking shit ain't for me. I don't need to sit around talking about my feelings because I'm not naive and I know how the world works."

"Then why listen to me? Why did you help me get information on my dad? Why did you even introduce yourself to me in the first place, and why did you get involved if you felt like I was being naive?" He shook his head.

"No, I'm invested now. I actually want to hear what you have to say."

Not to compare them, but Dashawn rarely spoke about deep stuff with me. He wasn't as open to talking about anything really. For the short time that I knew him, all he did was bark orders at me. When I got pregnant, the barking became more frequent. And besides that, all we did was fuck, no sustenance. But, that's just how D was. I wanted Meech to be honest, even if he was just insulting me for being too naive—or lacking in experience of how the world works. Which could be the case. If my math was correct, I think Meech was somewhere in his early thirties, maybe thirty one. His words could very well have some depth to them.

"We all done seen some shit or experienced some shit. Pain is universal, everyone experiences some type of pain at some point in their life, and no one's pain is greater than the next persons. But the difference between me and you is that I'm not a good person. Dashawn wasn't a good person either. Death and pain follows the kind of lifestyle we live. But you?" He shook his head, "You too beautiful, inside and out, to be walking around with so much pain." He said it so casually, so nonchalantly.

"Then, how am I naive?" I was genuinely confused.

"Cuz it's how you deal with that pain that matters. If what you doing ain't working, you need to switch that shit up. But you still young. Twenty-three right?" He glanced over at me and I nodded.

"You'll learn with time."

"Learn what?

"Not to take life so seriously."

"Well, if you don't talk, then what works for you?"

He smirked. "Maybe I'll show you some time," he licked his lips, turning his attention back to the road. I went to ask another question when he turned the radio on, shutting me up. He turned it all the way up. It was so loud that I could barely hear myself think. I rolled my eyes and settled back into my seat, looking out the window. But every so often I stole glances at Meech. I was even more intrigued by him, and he was definitely far from being one-dimensional. Interesting.

We pulled up at Robyn's house. I was surprised to see my car in the driveway next to Robyn's.

"Woah, how did my car get here?" Meech got out and I took my time grabbing my purse. Meech pulled out the letters for me. I had completely forgot about them. It seemed as if today was just one long ass week. So much has happened in the span of some hours that I couldn't believe that it was still only Wednesday. Or were we in the early hours of Thursday morning. If my phone wasn't dead I could check the time.

I slowly slid out of the car. I made my way over to my car and leaned against it, looking through the driver's window. I then fumbled through my purse looking for my keys. I was dumbfounded.

"How did my car get here if I still have my keys?" I asked turning to him. Meech ignored me and grabbed me by my waist. I leaned against him for support since my head was still cloudy from the liquor and my movements were sloppy. Before I could say anything, Meech was already using my key to unlock the door. He let me go once we were inside, and sat my bag of letters by the door.

"You need help?"

"No, I can manage," I said snatching my keys back.

"But thank you. I really appreciate your help today. You're free to go do whatever it is that you do." He nodded before giving me a once over and leaving. I closed the door and locked it. I walked further into the house, almost knocking over a random lamp. I tried my best to be as quiet as possible as I walked down the hallway. I opened the door to the guest bedroom and saw both Robyn and Imani fast asleep. I crept in and took off my clothes. I went into the closet and pulled out my duffel bag. I rummaged through it for a shirt and quickly changed.

I went back out and got in the bed. Robyn stirred and her eyes snapped open. I cringed.

"I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Asha?"

"Go back to sleep."

"Where have you been? Imani has been asking for you all day." She mumbled something after that, but I couldn't hear her.

"I—"

I was interrupted by her soft snores. I sighed in relief and settled fully into the bed and pulled Royce to me. She was knocked out. I soon fell asleep not long after.

.....

✌🏾🤪