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I nodded and placed my hand on his shoulder.

“You did good with her today.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” he said nonchalantly.

“It was to me.”

I squeezed his shoulder gently. My son had spent the day trying to be strong for everybody else. He’d seen his father in that hospital bed, heard what the doctors said, and then left all of that behind to pick up his little sister and make sure she didn’t know anything was wrong.

“Mama, you need some rest too.”

“I know.”

And I did.

My feet hurt, my lower back was aching, and my son had apparently chosen today of all days to remind me that there wasn’t much room left inside of me for him to stretch. He shifted underneath my ribs, and I rubbed the side of my stomach until he settled. All I wanted was to climb into my bed. The only problem was Malik wouldn’t be in it.

“I’ll talk to Maylee in the morning.”

“She good, Ma. Don’t worry about her tonight.”

I nodded and started to turn away when MJ stopped me.

“Ma, Penelope coming over. Is that cool?”

I looked back at him. Even through my exhaustion, I recognized the name. I’d heard enough about Penelope to know she meant something to my son, even though I hadn’t met her yet.

“That’s fine, baby.”

“She probably gonna stay for a little while.”

“That’s fine too. I’ll meet her in the morning.” I rubbed his shoulder once more before letting my hand fall. “Just make sure everything is locked up after she gets here.”

“I got it.”

I started down the hallway, moving slower than I normally would. Between the weight of my stomach, my swollen feet, and the ache in my back, I was sure I looked about as exhausted as I felt.

“Mama.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

“You need some help?” he said with a small smile.

“I know how to walk, Malik Junior.”

He chuckled and came closer anyway, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

“Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too.”

I continued toward my bedroom with one hand supporting the bottom of my stomach. My steps turned into more of a waddle the farther I went. I could feel MJ watching me from behind. He was probably making sure I made it to my room without tipping over. Normally, I would’ve turned around and told him to stop staring at me.

Tonight, I didn’t have enough energy left to care. I closed the bedroom door behind me and stood there for a moment with my hand still wrapped around the knob. The silence felt different in here. Downstairs, MJ was waiting for Penelope. Maylee was sleeping peacefully in her room. Somewhere across Miami, my husband was lying in a hospital bed with his brother beside him. And for the first time since my phone rang and changed the course of my entire day, nobody needed anything from me. I kicked off my sneakers and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower before lowering myself onto the closed toilet lid. Steam slowly began filling the room while I reached for my phone and connected it to the speaker on the counter.

I wanted something familiar. Something soft. Whitney Houston’s voice eventually filled the bathroom as “Exhale (Shoop Shoop)” began playing quietly through the speaker. I closed my eyes. That song had always done something to me, but tonight it landed differently. I sat there listening for a while before slowly getting back to my feet. My clothes came off piece by piece; each one felt like another layer of the day being removed with it. By the time I was standing in nothing but my underwear, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked exhausted.

My eyes were swollen from crying, my hair had long since stopped cooperating, and my stomach entered every room a good three seconds before the rest of me did. Still, I smiled. My hand settled over my belly, and almost immediately, my son moved beneath it.