Page 137

“Nah, Pops. You sitting here telling me what you ain’t want for me, but you think I wanted to see you like this?”

He sighed.

“MJ…”

“You think I wanted to see Ma crying because she didn’t know if you were gonna make it? You think I wanted to see Maliah blaming herself for something that wasn’t even her fault?”

“I know you didn’t,” he said calmly.

“Then what was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for that nigga to come back?”

Pops shook his head.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” I asked in a raised tone.

“I’m saying it was never supposed to be your responsibility to handle shit like this.”

“Whose responsibility was it then?”

“Mine,” he said with bass in his voice.

I stared at him. He didn’t hesitate with his response.

“It’s on me to carry the burdens of this family, MJ. Not you!”

I looked at his wheelchair again.

“How are you supposed to carry the weight of extra shit when you can’t even carry your own weight, Pops?”

The words came out harsher than I had intended. I saw the change in his face immediately. And I hated that I had said it like that.

“Pops, I ain’t mean⁠—”

“I know what you meant,” he cut me off.

He didn’t sound angry, and somehow, that made it worse. I rubbed my hands together and looked away.

“I just…” I stopped because I was trying to figure out how to explain something that I had been carrying around for weeks. “I couldn’t keep watching you go through this shit, man.”

Pops didn’t interrupt, so I continued.

“I was tired of seeing you in pain. Tired of Maliah looking over her shoulder. Then that nigga followed Penelope home, and I’m sitting there thinking about how she could’ve gotten hurt just because she’s with me.”

My voice had started getting louder, and I forced myself to lower it. His facial expression was shocked. He didn’t know about the Penelope part. It wasn’t for him to know.

“I wasn’t about to let him hurt nobody else.”

Pops nodded slowly. I could tell that he was battling with the thought of bringing up this newfound information, but he didn’t. What the fuck did it matter anyway? The nigga was gone.

“I hear you,” he said with a sigh.

I looked at him.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

“Like what?”