ghost of you // interracial

005. confrontation

Just like that, the weekend was over and Camron was dropping his daughter off at his ex's apartment. It was bizarre, to say the least. This wasn't how Camron pictured his life going.

Stepping into the dirty elevator, his large tattooed hand wrapped around his daughter's much smaller one, he couldn't get ahold of the tsunami of emotions washing over him. This broken-down apartment building used to be his home. Every day, he'd take a ride in that same elevator to the fifth floor; he'd walk down the dusty, dimly lit hallway to the olive painted door with the cracked doorframe-the number '509' nearly worn away from the passing of time.

He'd walk through that door and be greeted by his girls. Every single day, this is where he'd rest his head after a double shift at Fresh Way. This is where he'd tuck his babygirl into bed after rereading her favorite stories and singing her favorite songs. It was where he'd hold Rebecca in his arms as they fell asleep and where Adelina would wake them up in the morning by jumping into their bed. This was home; this was their home.

But, this wasn't his home anymore, and that thought killed him.

"Are you gonna stay here tonight, daddy?"

There was that pang of guilt, right there in his chest. She still didn't understand that things were different, and how could he blame her for that? Five-year-olds didn't normally comprehend the concept of broken homes.

"No, baby. I have to stay at my own apartment," he gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they stepped out of the elevator.

"Why?" He glanced down and was met with those big brown eyes, full of questions she didn't even know that she wanted to ask.

"Uh," he was unsure of how to answer her. In all the chaos, Becca and Camron never seemed to think about how they were to explain things to Adelina. "Those are just the rules, bug."

It wasn't a good answer, and he knew it, but it was enough for his daughter as she simply shrugged before letting go of his hand and skipping down the empty hallway toward the door of their apartment-Rebecca's apartment.

Adelina reached the apartment door before Camron. Her tiny finger pressed the doorbell, and Camron chuckled to himself.

"The doorbell's broke, bug." Just like everything else in the apartment.

"Nuh-uh. Uncle Matthew fixed it, daddy."

His nostrils flared at the mention of his former friend. The man he'd once thought of as a brother, an extension of his nearly nonexistent family-the man who'd been sneaking around with the mother of his child behind Camron's back.

With all the information Adelina had given him as she talked herself to sleep two nights prior, it wasn't hard for Camron to piece everything together. They were sleeping together, it was painfully evident. It was all Camron could picture over the weekend; the woman he'd give his life for and his best friend, becoming closer and pushing him out of the picture.

It made sense. Matthew wasn't texting back or answering his calls like he used to; Camron hadn't seen him since the day after he was released. He was distancing himself and Camron was kicking himself for not noticing it sooner. The signs had been there.

"Mommy!" He was pulled from his thoughts as the apartment door opened and revealed Rebecca, still in her pajama's and her hair pulled into a black silk bonnet. She was beautiful. She was a two-timing heartbreaker.

"Baby-bug," Rebecca bent down to Adelina's height before quickly pulling her into a mama bear hug, "I missed you."

Camron watched their embrace, chewing on his bottom lip as he fought the urge to bring up the Matthew situation in front of their daughter.