Not As It Seems

Communication Breakdown pt 1

**A/n It's been a minute so I tried to give y'all something 

Previously....

"Um I have a car ready for her downstairs he already knows the address" She turned to Fantasia "I'm going to get out their way so they can break you out of this place. You go ahead and head to Dani's. I'll call her and let her know your on the way finish making up my things next door and head home. Call me once you get settled" Taraji rattled off rising up to make moves trying to avoid the stares as her tears threatened to fall.

"Taraji?" Fantasia called as she had attempted to leave the room. She could sense Taraji needed space to feel her emotions and work through them. "Are you coming to Dani's when you finish?"

"I should let you get settled and spend time with Keziah. I know you missed spending time with her. But if you need or want me there just call me okay? I'll come running love" With that she left Fantasia in Dr. Bailey and the nurses care.

2 months later...

Fantasia never called. The silence hung heavy in the air, a muted symphony of missed connections and unspoken words. She longed to reach out, to check on Taraji and bridge the growing chasm between them. But the echoes of her therapist's advice and the steady guidance of her newfound confidante, Felicia, urged her to give Taraji space. And so, reluctantly, she obeyed.

Taraji, meanwhile, found herself adrift in a sea of unanswered questions and unspoken worries. The absence of Fantasia's voice gnawed at her, a dull ache that refused to fade. Since that day at the hospital, she hadn't laid eyes on Fantasia, hadn't heard her laughter or felt her warmth. Instead, she was left to navigate the uncertain waters of their relationship alone, her only lifeline the sporadic updates from Dani.

Dani's calls came like waves crashing against the shore, each one a bittersweet reminder of the distance between them. Taraji rarely answered, the weight of Fantasia's absence too heavy to bear. Instead, she let the calls go to voicemail, her heart clenched with anticipation and fear. She listened to the beginning of each message, the sound of Dani's voice a lifeline in the darkness. But when the inevitable words came— "Fantasia still..."—she couldn't bring herself to listen any further.

It wasn't just a matter of pride or self-preservation. No, it was something deeper, more primal—a sense of unworthiness that lingered like a shadow in the corners of her mind. If Fantasia wanted her to know, she would have told her herself. And as much as she yearned for reassurance, for a glimpse of hope in the darkness, she couldn't bring herself to accept it, not when she felt so undeserving.

And so, the cycle continued, each missed call a silent testament to the fractures in their bond. But somewhere, beneath the weight of silence and uncertainty, a flicker of hope remained—a fragile ember waiting to be reignited, waiting for the day when Fantasia would finally close the space between them.

Marcel's weekly FaceTime calls with Keziah became a lifeline for Taraji—a fragile thread connecting her to the little girl and woman she missed dearly. Each time she overheard their conversations, a bittersweet mix of emotions washed over her. She longed to join in, to share in their laughter and hear Keziah's voice, but she held back, afraid to intrude on the boundaries Fantasia had set.

Despite her silent yearning, Taraji remained steadfast in her resolve, refusing to cross the invisible line that separated her from Keziah. She knew that Fantasia needed space to heal, and she was determined to respect that, no matter the cost.

Meanwhile, Marcel's concern for his mother grew with each passing day. He could sense her slipping away, lost in a sea of pain and uncertainty. And so, he made a conscious effort to visit her more frequently, hoping to break through the walls she had built around herself.