The Coldest Love She's Ever Known

by Leo Sullivan

  I felt his lips on my skin and they felt so real, just like I remembered in the days when I felt them on my skin every day. My emotions built and I felt tears come to my eyes. In that moment, I was reminded of just how much I missed King. I would always love him.

  “Until the day that God takes the last breath from my body, I’ll love you, Sunday. No matter what, Malik ‘King’ Shields will always love you. If you forget everything else, don’t ever forget that.”

  The sound of footsteps walking away was the last thing I heard before the door opened and shut once again. Although I couldn’t see him leave, I could feel the absence of his presence in the room. Disappointment flooded my consciousness as I realized that, once again, I was alone.

  Many hours later, I remember being pushed into a room with more bright lights and I could hear the shuffle of feet. People were laughing and joking; the room was cold and damp. The pleasant dream I’d had was now a distant memory as I was pulled back into my half-reality where the murmuring of hospital personnel, beeping machines and devastating hopelessness in regard to my current state, reigned supreme.

  “No need to give her an epidural for the pain. She is in a coma, so she won’t feel a thing. No moving or complaints. Let’s pop this baby out and get to lunch. This is easy money.”

  If I could’ve cringed, I would have. Better yet, I would have jumped right off the table.

  They are about to deliver my baby! I thought, remembering what my doctor had said the day before.

  I should have been excited about the moment, but I was terrified. That horror was only magnified by the facetious and callous conversations happening around me.

  They all laughed and chatted like it was just another day on the job, but I could hear everything. I felt hands on my body; something rubbed against my stomach, wet liquid, it was cold and sticky. Then a sharp, splitting cut, from one side of my belly to the other. The pain came next—more pain than I had ever experienced in my life, but yet I couldn’t move, couldn’t resist, couldn’t scream. Either they had given me some medication that had finally taken hold, or my mind was able to block out the majority of the pain because it finally began to subside. However, I could still feel the pulling and tugging. I felt hands inside of me probing, pulling, jerking, and then, next, a whoosh. There was a snapping sound that scorched through my body.

  The hands left and there was a smacking sound right before I heard the most beautiful, dulcet sound in the world: a baby crying. It was my baby. His cries grew louder, tugging at my maternal instincts and somehow in all the inertia of pain and oblivion, I found my way back to life.

  It was like a weight lifted from me, like I was suddenly freed from being bound in chains. I awoke with a start. The bright lights electrocuted stung my eye.

  “Holy shit!” someone said, taking a step back.

  “What the f—” another voice was about to say.

  “Gimme… my… baby,” I croaked with a dry mouth. My tongue felt like sandpaper as the lights set my one good eye ablaze.

  “Ms. Kennedy! What a pleasure to have you back.”

  I looked up in the haze of lights and saw a beautiful young Black woman about my age. She had an afro covered with a hospital sanitation garb; her eyes embrace me with a smile. I tried to return the greeting with a smile of my own, but I felt drunk, woozy, like I was floating in and out of consciousness. Hands were all over my body as my vitals and other things were checked. In the far corner, the pediatric staff was tending to my baby and I wanted to call out for them to hand him to me, but I couldn’t.

  “I see you’re awake,” someone above me was saying. “Just stay calm. We are tending to you and your baby. You both will be fine.”

  It was my doctor talking. I was so familiar with his voice, but I had never seen him until now. His skin was white as snow and he had a mane of brunette hair. I could tell that, back in his day, he was a woman charmer. Suddenly, I winced. The bright lights were sending shock waves of pain through my head.

  He must have misunderstood my expression.

  “Oh, by the way, I’m Dr. Stevens.”

  “I… know who… you … are…” I minced my words terribly as I squinted, my eyes trying to adjust to the blaring lights.

  “Okay. Can you move your arms?” he asked as the hospital staff just stood around gawking at me in awe.

  At the time I didn’t know that it was because I wasn’t supposed to have made it this far. They thought that if I did survive, I would be comatose and brain dead. I guess no one ever told them about mama’s prayers or the power of God.

  I purposely ignored his request. My baby was crying like he was being tortured.

  “Let me see my baby!” I managed to say.

  “Nurse Beverly, when it’s safe to do so, can you please bring the baby over?” Dr. Stevens said while still looking at me like I had performed some miraculous feat.

  Moments later, a bundle of joy, still crying was placed on my chest and I received the shock of my life.

  “This... this is my baby?” I asked, feeling fresh tears come to my eyes.

  “Yes,” Dr. Stevens replied with a wide smile. “This is your baby girl.”

  Lowering my head, I kissed my daughter on her forehead, feeling a kind of love that I’d never felt before.

  A girl?

  I couldn’t believe it. I had been told that I was having a boy. How could this be that for all this time, my doctors had gotten it wrong?

  I had so many tubes and contraptions hooked up to my body and I had also been lying motionless for so long that my limbs could barely move. With the help of the nurse, I was able to hold my baby and the moment that she was settled in my arms, she stopped crying and started to coo. I smiled when she looked at me with eyes that looked exactly like mine, but then I frowned suddenly. I picked on some type of gurgling sound, like she was having trouble breathing. Her frail body looked emaciated and weak. She was born premature, a month early, and I had lost a lot of blood prior to her birth. It was a miracle that she was alive. We had been through so much; we were both lucky to be here.

  “Oh, shit! You’re awake. Sunday, you’re awake!”

  Hearing the familiar voice, I turned my head with a little difficulty. It felt like my neck had a crook in it from lying in the same position for so long.

  “Caesar!” I croaked as my eyes adjusted to the light and his beautiful hue.

  “They brought me to see the baby being born. I was outside until they just let me in. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  He tried to smile but I saw his wounded façade underneath as a nurse stood behind his wheelchair. For a fleeting second, I thought I saw him frown and flinch a little when he looked at me. I knew I was probably horrifically scarred and there was no telling what my eye looked like.

  “I just thank God that you and the baby are okay. Can I hold him?”

  “Her,” I corrected him with a smile. “We had a girl.”

  His jaw dropped in shock. “What? Oh shit!”

  Caesar’s face was all black and blue and he had a huge gauze on his head. It almost looked like a turban as he tried to smile but his eyes wouldn’t comply. They were dark and somber like there was a dim light coming from his spirit.

  “Here,” was all I could muster, my voice was hoarse.

  “She… she has your eyes,” Caesar said as he held his hands out for her.

  Taking her into his arms, he pulled her close to his chest and something about that moment touched me. Before I knew it, I had started crying. If there was ever such a thing as a miracle, we were the testament to it. The entire staff looked on, and then one person started clapping. Before long, all the others had joined in.

  “What are all you clapping for? This ain’t no fuckin’ celebration, this is a muthafuckin’ devastation. We almost died!” Caesar raged.

  “Bae… No, don’t do that.”

  “No, what? I may be possible paralyzed for life. I’m wearing a fuckin’ shit bag and I’m only twenty-six years old. And
look at you and the baby. What have we done to deserve this? Then here they go, fuckin’ clapping. We don’t need your fuckin’ sympathy!”

  The Black nurse spoke up, her mascara was ruined from crying.

  “It wasn’t about sympathy. We’re just happy for you and your family that’s all.” She wiped at a tear in her eye.

  “Thank you,” I said and reached for Caesar to calm him.

  I could only imagine what he was going through, but this wasn’t the way to deal with it by taking his frustration out on innocent people. Reaching out, I ran my finger along the side of our child’s face, appreciating her beauty. Once again, I thought I saw Caesar glance at me, and a shadow of a frown passed over his face before he looked away.

  As he held his daughter and caressed her little hand with one delicate finger, all I could do was try to hold back tears. I needed to be strong for both of them.

  “You’re probably going to need plastic surgery to fix your face. I’ma have to get outta here and get some money for us soon. I felt a tingling in my legs, and I know that means I’ma walk again—”

  “Plastic surgery? My… face?”

  His words cut me to the core. Did I really look that bad? I was briefly reminded of the dream that I had with King coming into my room, kissing my face, and telling me that I was beautiful. Or to be precise, still beautiful. Until this moment, I hadn’t once thought about my appearance, but King had mentioned it. Was that really a dream?

  “Wh—what’s wr-wr-wrong with my face?”

  The words came out jumbled and scattered, like marbles tossed across a wooden floor.

  “I’m just saying, you gon’ need to get it fixed... But I’ll get money for that.”

  My animus was getting the better of me. Something about him started to annoy me. Maybe it was the way he was looking at me like I repulsed him—a direct contrast from the tender loving kisses I’d received in my dream.

  “You needing money is what got us here in the first place, Caesar.”

  “No, what got us in here was King. He set that entire jack move up.”

  Instantly, I felt my finger clutch the sheet. Here he was bringing up King’s name again but with good reason this time. As much as I wanted to lash out and respond, I fought to keep my mouth shut. Until the night before, I believed the same thing that he did, but it didn’t seem right anymore.

  “Ms. Kennedy, we are going to take the baby to the NICU and get you to your room so you can rest up. I’ve already given you something in your I.V. to help you sleep. After a few hours, the doctor will come to perform some tests.”

  “I’ve already slept enough…” I remember mumbling before whatever medication they’d given me began to take over.

  Before I could stop it, I drifted off, praying that my child would be okay. Caesar’s words hurt so badly that I had terrible dreams about my eyeball sinking into my face, looking like a deep gaping hole. In the dream, I was so hideous that he eventually left me for another woman.

  10

  Sunday

  * * *

  When I awoke, my mind was all over the place. There was a room full of people, my mother, a few of her friends and co-workers, Caesar, Kelly and even the police. It was like a madhouse, but the only thing that mattered to me was my baby.

  “Where is she?” I managed to ask. For some reason, my throat was dry, and my eyes burned.

  “She is still in intensive care. I will ask the nurse if they can bring you to her in a minute. She is a fighter,” my mom said with melancholy and took my hand.

  Everyone else in the room had turned and was staring at me at awe. Like they knew something I didn’t. I would soon find out.

  A plainly dressed cop with a huge boubous nose, ruddy cheeks, platinum hair came forward and introduced himself as Detective Wilmer.

  “Your ex-boyfriend, Malik Shields killed two government workers, kidnapped a federal judge and escaped from a high security federal building today. We have reason to believe that he is or was in this hospital. One of the staff here says that your brother, a man that matched his description, was given permission to come to your room. Did you see him? Your life could be in grave danger.”

  “I—I don’t have a brother,” was all that I was able to say.

  My mind then reflected on what I’d thought was a dream and I stirred. The officer eyed me suspiciously before moving on.

  “Well, we don’t know much other than, but we are still searching the hospital and we’ll keep an officer stationed outside,” the cop replied.

  I sat up in bed with cinematic flashes of King kissing my face. I could almost smell the scent of his body on mine and feel my emotions stirring as his dulcet words penetrated my heart. It all had seemed so real, so true. It was beautiful.

  “Officer, I told you if he was in the building, he never made it to her room. I would have never allowed it,” Caesar said as he rolled his wheelchair closer. The officer lifted a brow and took a long look at Caesar, as if suggesting that there wasn’t much that he could do in his current position.

  “Plus,” Caesar added. “If he would have been here, she would both be dead. From what I’ve seen, that nigga on a killing spree.”

  “I have to agree, if the culprit would have been here, there would probably been violence. There has been a massive manhunt for him since it was discovered that he had escaped, so I doubt he would have taken the risk to come here, anyways. But, to be on the safe side, we are placing twenty-four-hour security outside the door and downstairs in the corridor. An extra measure of safety.”

  “You all should have been did that,” someone said.

  Once the cop and the others in my room left, I was taken to see my baby girl for a brief moment, just enough time to feed her. When I returned to my room, Kelly was perched in a chair, tapping away on a brand-new iPhone. Across from her, Caesar was on the opposite side of the room, looking up at television. Judging from the expression on his face, he was enthralled with something fascinating. After the nurse and my mama helped me back into the bed, I glanced up at the television and gasped.

  It looked like an inferno with cars and shops burning as masses of people ran back and forth through the streets. The scene reminded me of something that would only happen in a war-torn, third-world country. It couldn’t be real.

  “What is going on? Is that the city burning? That looks like downtown Atlanta. Are they shooting a movie?”

  “Not a movie,” Kelly lifted her head to answer me. “They sayin’ that’s King and his John Doe Boys. They started a riot to help him escape. They out there robbin’ and lootin’ stores. I already hit up a few of my girls and asked them to pick me up some shit.”

  My jaw dropped as I watched the scene unfolding in front of me like clips from a movie. There was no way that King was a part of this. I took in the details reluctantly, swallowing hard as every word the reporter said sunk in. People had been murdered, hurt and beaten behind what he did. I watched as people screamed and cried tears as officers sprayed them directly in the face with pepper spray and tear gas. Billows of smoke erupted from cars that had been set on fire; people dove for cover and others, officers and civilians alike, tried to run.

  “I don’t believe it,” I whispered, watching with tears in my eyes. “There was no way that King could have been behind all this.”

  “I keep tellin’ you that you don’t know that nigga like you think you do,” Caesar piped up while popping a pill into his mouth. He’d been taking his pain pills like candy.

  “He’s dangerous, crazy and he is tryin’ to kill every muthafucka who is responsible for gettin’ him locked up. The next person he’ll be comin’ after is you. But, don’t worry, I got you,” he added, cutting his eyes towards me. “We gon’ get you fixed up and then get through this together.”

  “What are you going to do?” I raised my voice a falsetto of fear. I didn’t want to point out the obvious; he was in a wheelchair, but even without it, he’d never been a match for King.

  “My legs
already workin’ again and they gonna get stronger. I got this. I’ma handle mine.”

  “What?” I shook my head. “We have a baby to think about. Haven’t you had enough of the violence? If people are tryin’ to kill us, wouldn’t it make sense for us to take our baby and move away?”

  “Da fuck? So, I’m ‘posed to be a coward? Run, ‘cause I’m scared of King?” he asked giving me a blank stare then looked away.

  Our silence hummed like a thief stealing borrowed time. I felt so alone, like no one understood how I felt. Not even the one person who should have. Since our ordeal, Caesar hadn’t once hugged me or shown any bit of affection. He was just callous, appearing to have no empathy.

  “Caesar, do you still love… me?”

  My voice trembled.

  He swallowed hard and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Then he slowly turned and looked at me, pausing for a moment. When he looked into my face, he grimaced, and I felt ugly and dirty.

  “Sunday, a lot has happened… To be honest, I don’t know no more,” he replied with a subtle shrug.

  Turning his back to me, he looked away. That time, he didn’t look at the television, but out the window, as a billow of smoke rose like gray haze, enveloping the city.

  11

  Sunday

  * * *

  “I’m ugly now. Look at my face! That’s why Caesar don’t love me anymore. Maybe I should have died.”

  “Fuck him! All he wanna do these days is pop pills. He stay high off them percs that the doctor gave him. Who cares what he thinks? Plus, you’re good, girl,” Kelly jumped in while scrolling on her phone.

  My mama sucked her teeth at Kelly’s choice of words.

  A tear ran down my cheek as I looked in the hand mirror that my mama had given me. There was a gash on the right side of my head with sixteen stitches; it was a grisly, horrific scar. My eye was closed and swollen black and blue due to the impact of the bullet. Because of the pressure placed on my brain from the trauma of the bullet, I couldn’t see out my right eye. The doctor had warned me that there was a possibility that I could permanently lose my vision, lose my eye, have to get surgery or even possibly a prosthetic eye, in the worst-case scenario.