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ᴍᴀɴʜᴀᴛᴛᴀɴ, ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ 𝙾𝚖𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙿𝙾𝚅
The house was unusually quiet for having three kids under one roof. The TV in the living room was on but muted, and faint sounds of Kairo's toys clattering against the floor were the only signs of life. Kennedy sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, watching her little brother play but saying nothing. Kimora was seating next to her, with no expression on her face. The kids had returned back home a few days ago, and of course notified their mom wasn't speaking. Kay broke the news to them and they took it hard, more than he expected. They attended the funeral as a family and as expected Ari got worse after the funeral.
Kay walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of chick fil a he ordered. He was definitely going through a lot mentally, but he tried his best to mask it with a soft smile. "Yall hungry?" he asked, setting the tray on the coffee table.
Kairo looked up rushing to grab a sandwich. Kennedy shook her head, and Kimora didn't even glance in his direction.
Kay sighed, sinking into the couch beside Kennedy. He ran a hand over his face, then gently nudged her. "C'mon, baby girl, you gotta eat something."
Kennedy frowned and looked toward the hallway where Ari's bedroom door remained closed. "Why isn't Mama coming out?" she asked softly.
Kay's heart clenched. He knew this question was coming, but that didn't make it easier to answer. "Your mom is just... having a hard time right now," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She's really sad about Grandma."
Kennedy frowned deeper. "But why doesn't she talk? Not even to you?"
Kimora shifted in her chair, finally turning her gaze from the window. "She's sad, Kennedy. That's why," she said quietly, her voice tinged with frustration.
"But we're all sad," Kennedy argued. "We miss Grandma too."
Kimora's lip quivered, and she quickly turned her face away again, blinking back tears.
Kay reached for his eldest daughter, gently pulling her onto his lap. "I know, it's okay," he murmured. "You don't have to hold it all in. I keep telling you guys that."
Kimora shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I just want Grandma back," she whispered. "And I want Mama to talk again."
He could tell it hit Kimora the hardest, giving note that her grandma practically took care of her and developed a strong bond as Ari had to work so much when she was a single mom. She wasn't just a grandma to her and everybody knew that.
Kay held her tightly, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "I know, baby girl. I know."
A knock at the door broke the moment, and Kay kissed Kimora's forehead before gently setting her back on the couch. "Stay here. I'll get it," he said, standing up.
When he opened the door, Jo stood on the other side. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand and pulled his hoodie down as it was raining out. "Wassup. How is she?"
"Not good," Kay admitted, his voice low. "I don't know what to do anymore. The girls been crying all day, and Ari...you know."
"She still not speaking?" He said as she stepped in. Kay shook his head no, sitting down next to the girls.
Jo nodded, his expression serious. "Alright. Let me talk to her." He insisted. "Kimora, I gotchu when I'm done." He said taking note of her red eyes. He heads upstairs, knocking on the slight open door briefly.
Jo steps inside, holding a bouquet of white lilies. His tall frame seems smaller as he carefully sets the flowers next to the others and moves to the chair across from Ari.
"Wassup," he says softly. He watches her for a moment, but she doesn't turn to meet his gaze.
He exhales slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know you don't want to talk right now. That's okay. You don't have to."
Ari doesn't respond, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.
Jo studies her for a moment, his expression somber but kind. Then he leans back, his voice quieter now. "You know, when I was twelve, my best friend, Malik, got shot."
Ari stiffens slightly, her gaze flickering toward him, though she doesn't say anything.
Jo keeps going, his tone steady but tinged with emotion. "When I mean best friend I mean like you and Giselle type shit so imagine how tight we were. He was the funniest nigga I knew. Always made me laugh, even on my worst days. And then... one day, he was just gone. Right in front of me."
Ari's lip trembles, though she remains silent.
"Crazy shit is that he wasn't gang affiliated or nothing. Just wrong place wrong time."
"I didn't speak for weeks after that," Jo continues. "Not a word. I just couldn't. I was afraid that if I tried to talk, I'd break apart. So I stayed quiet. Thought it would hurt less that way."
Jo leans forward, resting his hands together. "It didn't, though. It just made everything heavier. But eventually, I realized something. You can be silent but silent isn't dealing with it. You can't stay there forever, no matter how safe it feels."
For a long moment, the room is still. Then Ari's sniffles start to echo through the room. The tears come silently at first, rolling down her cheeks as her chest heaves with the effort to hold them in.
Jo watches her, his own eyes glistening. He doesn't move closer, doesn't say anything more. He simply sits with her, letting her cry, letting her finally release the pain she's been holding so tightly.
The sobs come in waves, raw and unrestrained. Ari buries her face in her hands, her body trembling as grief pours out of her.
Jo's voice is barely above a whisper. "Let it out, Ari. It's okay. You don't have to carry it alone."
For the first time in two weeks, Ari looks at him and something in her gaze softens. Though her tears don't stop, she finally acknowledged his presence. Jo reached for a tissue on the nightstand and began dabbing her face.
Jo stays with her, silent but steady, the weight of his words lingering in the air. "You like a sister to me, so know I love you the same way I love my brother. If you need anything don't hesitate to call." He said before putting his hand on her shoulder softly before walking out. He headed downstairs to be met with his brother, visibly concerned walking up to him.
"How it went? She spoke to you?"
"Nah."
He sighed. "Damn."
"She'll talk bro, when she's ready she'll talk. I don't know how long, but she'll speak."
