Page 57 of Certified Pressure 2
Next, I searched flights. The soonest I felt I needed to leave was tomorrow afternoon. The cheapest flight was five hundred dollars. I still had money left after paying for Zurie’s surgery, so that part wasn’t the problem. The problem was me admitting to myself why I was even doing this.
I had spent so much time shutting Pressure out, telling myself that I couldn’t mix my life with his, that I didn’t deserve somebody like him, that I needed to protect Zurie before I thought about myself. And through all of that, he was the one dropping everything to be there for me. He was the one carrying me when I felt like I couldn’t move. And all I kept doing was pushing him further away. If I didn’t show him now that I was willing to fight for him, then I was going to lose him completely, and that thought hurt worse than anything.
Hours slipped by while I sat in the chair, going back and forth in my mind. The lights outside the hospital windows dimmed and the soft beeping of machines never changed. Finally, the door opened and Aunt Deanne walked in. She smelled like she always did, a mix of lavender lotion and fresh laundry. She hugged me tight and then walked straight over to Zurie’s bed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“She’s still beautiful,” Deanne said with a soft smile.
I nodded, watching the way my aunt instantly brought this calm energy into the room. It was exactly what Zurie needed.
“Aunt Dee,” I said quietly. “I don’t think it’s safe for her to go back home. Things with my parents got bad, worse than they ever have been. I don’t want her there.”
Aunt Deanne’s eyes softened, but she didn’t look surprised. “Lionel told me. We’ll take her. Don’t even worry about it.”
I swallowed hard, grateful. “I’ll be back soon. I just… I have to go out of town for a while.”
She didn’t press me for details. She just nodded like she understood more than I was saying. That was one of the things I loved about her—she never judged, she just listened and supported.
I leaned down and kissed Zurie’s forehead, then whispered in her ear, “I’ll be back for you.“
Leaving that room broke something in me, but I knew what I had to do.
I ordered an Uber and rode back to the hotel. The whole ride I stared out the window, thinking about everything that had happened. When I stepped into the room, the first thing that hit me was Pressure’s cologne. It lingered like he was still here. I stood in the middle of the room for a moment, clutching my shirt in my hand and frowning because the scent made me miss him even more. His presence was still strong in this space, but so was the emptiness he left behind.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled my phone back out. My finger hovered over the confirm button for the flight, and for a second, I thought about all the reasons I shouldn’t do it. I thought about the women at his house, the drama, the way he didn’t even ask me to come with him. But then I thought about all the reasons I needed to.
He was always the one coming to me. He was always the one showing up even when I didn’t ask. Maybe it was my turn now. Maybe it was time for me to stop running from love and face it head-on.
I pressed the button and booked the flight.
Tomorrow I was going back to Pressure… Back to the Jungle Estate, and back to fight for what was mine, no matter who else was standing in the way.
The following morning…
I hadn’t gotten much sleep, and when my alarm went off, I felt the weight of everything sitting on me at once. Still, I pulled myself up, got myself together then grabbed my bag, and forced myself to move like I had somewhere to be, because I did. I was about to get on a flight and go see the man who had turned my whole world upside down without even trying. My stomach was tight with nerves and my chest felt full of something I couldn’t name, but under all of that was this excitement I couldn’t hide.
I took one last look around the hotel room, the sheets still a little messy from when me and Pressure had been here together. I pulled the door shut behind me, my hand lingering on the handle longer than it should have, like I was saying goodbye to a memory.
The lobby was quiet when I walked through, the sound of an ice machine in the corner and the soft voice of the clerk greeting me as I dropped the card at the counter. I smiled politely but didn’t stop to talk. My Uber was already pulling up outside.
The ride to the airport felt longer than it should have, and I sat pressed against the window, watching buildings slide by without really seeing them. My thoughts were wrapped around Zurie. I pulled my phone out and dialed the hospital, needing to hear her name, and needing to know she was okay.
A nurse picked up, her tone professional but gentle. She told me Zurie had woken up a little groggy this morning but was responsive, and that she was keeping down the fluids they were giving her. Her vitals looked good, and she would be monitored for another day before they started talking about discharging her. Hearing that calmed something inside me.
“Thank you,” I whispered into the phone, and when I hung up, I immediately called my aunt.
She answered on the second ring, her voice warm like it always was. She told me she had been with Zurie all morning and that everything the nurse said was true. Zurie had smiled when she saw her and even asked about me. That part made my chest ache in a different way.
“She’s okay, Pluto,” my aunt said softly. “You focus on what you need to do. I got her.”
I closed my eyes for a second, nodding even though she couldn’t see me. “Thank you, Aunt Dee. I’ll be back soon.”
We hung up and I slipped my phone into my lap, my hand resting on it as the Uber rolled down the highway. For the first time since all this started, I felt a little peace. Knowing Zurie was in good hands made it easier for me to lean into what I was doing now.
When we finally pulled into the airport, I took a deep breath and got out. The air felt different here, filled with the sound ofrolling suitcases, voices blending together, and the occasional honk of cars pulling up to drop passengers off. I grabbed my bag from the seat beside me, thanked the driver, and headed inside.
The automatic doors whooshed open, letting me into a space that smelled like coffee and faint disinfectant. People were moving in every direction, some rushing, some dragging their feet. I followed the signs for departures until I reached the check-in counters.
I pulled up my reservation on my phone and scanned the code at the kiosk, the machine spitting out my boarding pass with a low whir. Sliding my ID back into my bag, I adjusted the strap on my shoulder and walked toward security.
