“Goodnight Rae,” I say gently as I tuck my five year old in and kiss her forehead.
“Goodnight Mama!” she says in response as she snuggles her way under her blanket. I smile as I stand up and make my way out of the room, making sure the nightlight is on before I shut the door behind me.
I walk across the hall and peek my head into my nine-year-old’s room. “Goodnight Zo,” I call to her. I hear her scramble out of bed and the pitter patter of her feet as she opens the door.
“Goodnight Mama,” she says as she hugs me and I kiss the top of her head. She walks back over to her bed and I shut the door behind her before making my way to my own bedroom.
“Girls are in bed,” I announce as I enter the room. I see my wife standing by her dresser looking down at something in her hands. “Whatcha looking at, Jaz?” I ask as I walk over to her.
“Just an old family picture,” Jazzy mutters. I can hear emotion in her voice as I walk up behind her and put my hands on her arms. I look down and see not a picture of the four of us, but of Jazzy’s parents and little sister; the ones who disowned her when Jazzy introduced me to them.
“Are you missing them?” I ask gently, putting my chin on her shoulder. She just nods and I wrap my arms around her. I feel a couple drops fall onto my arm as I realize she’s crying and I hold her tighter. I have been through this pain with my own family so I understand better than most what she’s feeling. And my family eventually came around…hers never have in the more than a decade we’ve been together.
“I miss Brit the most,” Jazzy says. “She’d be what…a teenager now. I missed the rest of her childhood.” A couple more drops fall onto my arm. I don’t have the words to respond, so I just hold her tighter and rub her arms for a while. “Can you promise me something?” Jazzy asks softly, breaking the silence.
“Anything,” I answer, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder.
“If something ever happens to me, will you call them?” Jazzy asks. “Their numbers are still in my phone. If I’m ever in critical condition, I want the opportunity to see them one last time. Or if I die, I want them the opportunity to say goodbye. I know it’s been a decade and they haven’t reached out, but I still haven’t let them go. I guess part of me wonders if something major would be enough to shake them awake and realize what they’ve done and come back. Maybe not. But if something major happens to me, I’d like them to have the opportunity to change their mind.”
I process what she says before finally nodding. “You aren’t planning on something happening to you, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Jazzy answers. “But it’s just been on my mind lately. You promise me you will call?” She now turns around in my arms to face me and I can see how red her eyes are and the sincerity in them.
“I promise,” I answer genuinely. Jazzy smiles and reaches up to kiss me and I kiss her back gently.
“You ready to go to bed?” she asks. I nod as Jazzy gently sets the picture on the dresser and starts turning the bed down. I look back at the picture and think to myself, For her sake, I hope you do come around.

This piece was done by the amazing Zula Bloo