I dropped my husband off at the airport, thinking it was just another business trip. The fluorescent lights at Hartsfield–Jackson Atlanta International Airport were stabbing at my tired eyes that Thursday night. I was exhausted in a way that went deeper than lack of sleep.
It was the kind of exhaustion that settles into your bones, the kind you carry for months without really understanding why. My husband, Quasi, stood beside me with that perfect public smile he always wore. Impeccable gray custom suit, leather briefcase in hand, the expensive cologne I’d given him last birthday lingering in the air.
To anyone watching us in that busy terminal, we were the picture of Black excellence. The power couple. He, the successful executive on his way to a big meeting in Chicago.
Me, the dedicated wife in heels and a fitted blazer, sending him off at the gate. If only they knew. By my side, his small sweaty hand wrapped around mine, was Kenzo, our six-year-old son.
My entire world. He was too still that night, quieter than usual. Kenzo has always been an observant child, one of those kids who prefer watching to participating, taking in every detail.
But that night, there was something different in his eyes — a tight, silent fear I couldn’t name. “This meeting in Chicago is crucial, babe,” Quasi said, pulling me in for a hug that felt more like a performance than affection. Everything about him was calculated.
I just didn’t know how much yet. “Three days tops and I’m back,” he said, kissing my forehead lightly. “You hold down the fort here, right?”
Hold down the fort.
As if my life was just that — holding everything together while he built his empire. I smiled like I always did, because that’s what was expected of me. “Of course.
We’ll be fine,” I replied, feeling Kenzo squeeze my hand even tighter. Quasi crouched down in front of our son. He placed both hands on Kenzo’s shoulders in that way he always did when he wanted to look like the perfect father for anyone watching.
“And you, little man, you take care of Mama for me, alright?”
Kenzo didn’t answer. He just nodded, his eyes fixed on his father’s face. That look… it was as if he were memorizing every detail, every angle, like he was seeing Quasi for the very last time.
I should have noticed. I should have felt something crack open inside me right there on that shiny airport floor. But we rarely notice the signs when they come from the people we love, do we?
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
