Page 73 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
How the fuck do you abandon your firstborn and then go on to have four more kids? That was some certified bozo behavior. This nigga had completely written off Samaj, his first child, while playing daddy to four others. The disrespect was unreal.
“So he’s really been living his life like Samaj doesn’t exist while raising other kids?” I asked, my voice tight with anger. Iwas supposed to be being rational, but his logic had me losing my shit.
Some of it was probably my own unresolved daddy issues. My father had run off before I was born, like a coward, disappearing into thin air. Left my mama to raise me alone, struggling to make ends meet while he was out there, probably starting new families like I never existed. If I ever ran into that man, he’d remember me by the ass whooping I gave him. Samaj would get to that point one day too. He wasn’t at the age of full understanding yet. He hadn’t had to be an adult or make real sacrifices to understand the ones his mama had made, and I bet there were a lot she’d never share with him.
Being a father was supposed to be a blessing, the one thing you didn’t fumble. The fact that Ashe had a son like Samaj, smart, respectful, everything a man should be proud of—and chose to throw that away while investing in other kids? That hit too close to home. It was like watching my own story play out, except this time I had the power to do something about it.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I could never play with my seeds like that. Serene would have my head, rightfully so.”
“Facts. I ain’t even there yet, but I feel that about Samaj. Don’t move yet. I’ll be in touch.”
After hanging up, I stood in the hallway for a few more minutes, listening to the sounds of my future coming from the kitchen. This weekend showed me everything I needed to know. I felt this sense of completeness; I’d never experienced before with this woman. That confirmed what I already knew. She was it for me. They both were. They were a package deal, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was going to protect what we had, one way or another. I just hoped she didn’t hate me if it came down to me crossing the line.
When I walked back into the kitchen, Sametra watched me come in making my heart skip a beat. She came up to me andtouched the side of my face. I kissed her on the lips and pulled her close.
“Can I make something clear in case I haven’t already?” she looked up at me and gave me those eyes, that would always make me take shit too far. “You’re my peace. And I protect my peace. Always.”
“Is everything okay, baby?” Confusion was written on her face, but even if Ashe wasn’t on bullshit, I wanted her to know that.
“Perfect,” I said, turning her around to let her back rest against my chest. I pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everything’s perfect.”
And it would stay that way.
“Okay, you act like nothing bothers you. I wanna be there for you too.”
“I know but let me do the worrying, you just sit looking pretty. I’m going to shower and check on Samaj. You need me for anything?” I asked, walking backwards to head upstairs.
“No, go ahead. I’m good.”
“You ain’t gotta shower or nothing,” I winked.
“Malik, you better get your butt on, harassing this woman. Have some manners,” my mama fussed, turning around while I pretended to slow grind, making Sametra blush and laugh.
“Go on somewhere,” Sametra said, swatting at me playfully then whispering, “You’re tempting me. I could run last night back.”
I bit my lip because I hadn’t considered this when I asked her to come visit. Had I known I wouldn’t be able to get between some cheeks when I wanted, we would’ve turned and burned or got an Airbnb.
“Go.”
I headed upstairs, but as I reached the landing, I could hear their voices and jokes drifting up from the kitchen. Something in their tone made me pause and listen.
“You know, baby girl,” I heard Mama say, “I can see why my son is so taken with you. But I can also see you’re fighting it a little.”
There was a pause before Sametra responded, her voice softer than usual. “I’m not trying to. And it’s not because I don’t love him.”
“Oh, honey, you’re scared, not crazy. I can tell you love my son.”
Sametra snickered and then exhaled softly. “I’ve been on my own with Samaj for so long... I don’t really know how to let someone all the way in. People change. People leave. I learned early on that love can be temporary, even when you don’t want it to be.”
She paused, then continued before she could talk herself out of it.
“But Malik... he’s so damn sure. About us. About this future he sees so clearly. And most days, I believe him. But sometimes...” her voice dropped to almost a whisper, “sometimes I wonder if I even deserve that kind of love. The way I’ve had to survive, pick up the pieces, and silence my questions on why someone would leave me, starting with my mother. My first instinct is to question anything that feels too good to be true.”
My whole chest stiffened. I wanted to run in, wrap my arms around her, and tell her she didn’t have to doubt this, not me, not what we were building.
But I didn’t.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew this moment wasn’t about me. This was about her finally giving voice to the kind of ache that hides behind strength. And my mama—God, she looked at Sametra the way she used to look at me after my daddy died. Not pity. Not judgment. Just knowing. Just love.
