Jamila felt the same way when she walked in the door from work. The joy fled the air. Her boyfriend shut down. He was preparing to leave. She questioned how he had enough energy to avoid her after a day of playing with their son.

Henry couldn’t leave immediately to go smoke on the balcony. He had to wait until dinner was ready. He usually had plates prepared. She felt he never wanted to hang out with her after work anymore. Neither of them even asked the other about their day. There was no real hello. No smiles. He gave her a nod like they were roommates. Jamila passed through the chilly reception to their son. At least Mayer was happy to see her.

She was heavy-hearted as he moved through his tasks like an automaton. His eyes seemed to avoid hers as he made their plates. Henry settled Mayer down for dinner in his high chair. He served them before withdrawing to the balcony. He cooked salmon, Mayer’s favorite instant mac, and collard greens from an orange can. Jamila and Mayer sat at the kitchen table.

Jamila watched her boyfriend pack up his laptop and a notebook. He looked like he didn’t even get to roll up a blunt, caring for their son. He unlocked the patio door to get some distance. Her baby daddy let out a deep sigh, and his heavy footsteps led to the balcony. With that, he was gone. Jamila lived in the distance between them without sharing a word.

Henry sat on the balcony on a hot summer night in East Orange, New Jersey. Their high-rise apartment overlooked the ghetto he grew up in for most of his life.

For a few thousand dollars less, they could have lived among the common folk, but Jamila would hear nothing of the idea.

The bags under her eyes told their own story. She cooed over her beautiful baby boy, the spitting image of his father. Jamila sighed, only seeing Henry’s silhouette on the balcony. The couple struggled to remember the last time they shared the same room.

“You need to put the food in your mouth, baby. Not your hair.” Jamila spoke as nicely as possible.

Mayer shook his arms, dropping the macaroni and cheese on the table and floor with a beaming smile. “Yummy!”

“Oh no, look what you did! I just told you to put it in your mouth!” Jamila shouted, pulling at her hair.

Mayer’s lower lip quivered before he broke down crying. The glass door slid open as if on cue. Jamila sighed as Henry marched up to the screaming child. Jamila shot Henry a look while he coddled their son, picking Mayer up and soothing him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, relax, relax… It’s late. Are you sleepy?” Henry asked.

She hugged herself, closing her eyes, trying not to be jealous of his own son getting all of Henry’s love and attention.

“I had it under control.” Jamila sucked her teeth, arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s okay, baby boy, it’s just a happy accident.” Henry gave her an exhausted glance.

He didn’t respond to her beyond brief eye contact before taking their son to the living room.

“How are you doing, big guy? You alright?” Henry asked, fumbling with the baby in one arm and looking for the remote with the other.

“Daddy!” Mayer cheered, climbing up his dad’s arms to hang from around his neck.

Jamila crossed her arms over her chest, standing in the open air of the kitchen area and living room. She glared at Mayer, all laughs and play while his mess remained in the kitchen.

“Who do you think is going to clean this mess up?” Jamila asked.

“You were there when it happened, right? I clean up after him all day.” Henry defended.

“Because you don’t work! This is your job.” Jamila chastised Henry.

“Even when I was working, I was here with him all day. If I was on the job, I wouldn’t even be here right now!”

“You ain’t here. You’re out there smoking all day!” Jamila continued.

“We have to do this in front of our son?” Henry smacked his forehead.

“My son doesn’t care.” Jamila rolled her eyes.

“I can’t deal with you anymore.” Henry put down Mayer, moving to the front door.

“You’re leaving again? Are you going to your other bitch’s house?” Jamila cross-examined.

Henry turned, glaring at Jamila. “You don’t get tired of being so mean?”

“Maybe you should stop being so sensitive!” Jamila accused.

Jamila watched the door slam in her face. She looked at their son with resentment. She stared at the mess in the kitchen. Jamila fell to her knees, breaking into tears, unable to understand why Henry kept leaving her. Especially alone with their child. She was at wit’s end but didn’t know how to say she was stressed from work and overstimulated at home. She had a partner when she got home from work. Before she could reciprocate the favor, she needed an hour or two.

Jamila searched the apartment for the mop and bucket until she went into the laundry room. She found the mop soaking in bleach, as if it had been used recently. The mop bucket was turned over to dry. When she looked inside the bucket soaking the mop head, she found chunks of vomit and fecal matter floating. She slowly pieced together that Henry hadn’t had the easiest day. He was home alone with the baby all day. She had never been a stay-at-home parent and never wanted to be one.

She knew Henry was invaluable around the house. Jamila slowly walked out to Henry. She didn’t want to yell or else he might leave immediately.

“Hey, baby.” Jamila hugged herself as she stepped onto the balcony.

Henry didn’t respond or look at her, taking in the situation. He hurried up to pack his things as if danger were afoot. He loaded his backpack, then focused on the blunt, rolling the fast blunt of his life. He was moving to leave, but she couldn’t watch him go.

“Can we smoke that together?” Jamila asked.

“You mean that?” Henry asked in surprise but didn’t stop packing up.

“With the kind of day I had, I need it.” Jamila groaned.

“I thought you were mad at me again,” Henry admitted.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated with all these bills, and work, and the kid, and… you because you’re not even here.”

“I am here. You don’t want me around.”

“I do want you around. I don’t want to be around anyone else. Why would you say that?”

“Because no one else gets treated like this by you.” Henry’s voice was deadpan. The blunt hung from his lips, and the Southern drawl with a Jersey tang made him sound ready for a fight as Jamila blocked his way. “Move on now, girl.”

“I said I wanted to smoke with you.” Jamila couldn’t believe him as he tried walking right past her. “You can’t leave me here all night with this baby!”

“You just said he’s your son, not ours. You said he’s only yours.” Henry’s voice grew fiery as Jamila blocked his pathway.

“Baby, calm down. Stop being so childish.” Jamila groaned.

“Nah, man, you don’t get to yell and scream at me for holding my son, nah mean? I don’t care what happened at work. It doesn’t justify how you treat me. He’s your kid, right? Raise your kid.”

“I wouldn’t be acting this way if you had married me.”

“No, you would be worse. You would have been trapped in this hellhole, which is why I’m not married to you!” Henry roared.

“Ahem… I’m sorry, Henry, do you remember the little talk we had about yelling?” Their neighbor Catherine poked her head out from her balcony.

“Uh… yeah, sorry… I just-” Henry was flustered as their neighbor interrupted.

“When were you two talking, huh?” Jamila stared at Henry.

“We talk almost every day.” Catherine insisted.

Henry slapped his forehead. “She helps out with Mayer.”

“I don’t need this shit right now. Are you cheating on me?” Jamila was livid.

“He’s not, but if you’re accusing him, should he start?” Catherine dared.

“Oh my God, I can’t stand you!” Jamila screamed.

“That’s a shame. I’m your biggest fan… we could be partners.” Catherine winked.

Catherine grinned, revealing her silk negligee and open robe, the older single woman who had been spying on the young couple since they moved in. She made sure to stop by often, asking for his help around her apartment. As much as Henry said he wasn’t doing anything with Catherine.

Jamila knew damn well when another woman wanted her man. When they first met, there were other women. Henry usually turned them down or ignored them. Lately, the stares intensified since he started training more seriously. He was back in great shape, as if he planned to compete.

“Mind your damn business, Catherine!” Jamila barked.

“You’re making this the whole neighborhood’s business. You are screaming at him. I can hear you through the walls. Can you calm down, little girl?” Catherine laughed as she poured gas on the burning flames in Jamila’s chest. “If you need another place to stay, Henry, you can always move in here until she figures herself out.”

“He already has a wife and kid!” Jamila protested.

“Please, go inside, Cat. You’re only making this worse.” Henry rubbed the bridge of his nose, exasperated between the two women. “Please tell her nothing is going on between us.”

Catherine gleefully replied, “Anything you say, honey… feel free to stop by later. I got a new strain of indica that might help you de-stress.”

“No, thank you!” Jamila let out a scream, stomping inside their apartment after the older woman elegantly slipped inside hers.

Henry was left outside. He lit the blunt between his lips, closed his eyes, and let the world fade around him. He took another hit before putting it out, going inside to check on their son.

Their son sat in the pack-and-play, watching Preschool Prep Company. Not jumping or singing as he had been doing all day. But the two-year-old sat silently, whimpering, looking around for his parents. Henry’s heart broke as he imagined Mayer’s life if he left.

He believed they would have broken up before having a child. Instead, they endured everything they had gotten through together. Neither could imagine life without one another, but neither could truly imagine a healthy life with one another. Henry’s heart broke imagining his son having to face life without two parents. He couldn’t imagine staying with Jamila.

The key to being a good parent was being a good spouse. So, he long-suffered if it meant a better life for his son.

“Let me help you.” Henry offered Jamila.

“Why don’t you go help, Catherine?” Jamila whimpered.

“I am not cheating on you! I have never cheated on you!” Henry protested.

“Yeah, right… When is the last time we even had sex? If you’re not sleeping with Catherine, why is she flirting with you so much?” Jamila studied his face for a response.

“Be right, Jamila.” Henry gave up the fight.

Jamila looked for any sign of treachery. She put on a relieved smile and accepted his help. They put their son to sleep together.  The couple cleaned the kitchen together. Afterward, they retreated to the balcony to smoke. Mommy and Daddy were on the same page to little Mayer’s joy. The baby’s heart couldn’t handle watching his two best friends fight.