A’shai kissed her kneecaps as she washed his back. He cried so silently that even he forgot that he was weeping.

“I just want you to be happy, Shai. After this is over I want you to live. You’ve been dying right along with me for too long,” Liberty said as he started to turn towards her, wetting his face to wash away his anguish before finally facing her.

“I can’t believe this is it, ma. I’ve got all the money in the world, and it can’t do shit for me. I’m just sitting back watching you leave me… watching you hurt,” A’shai said in frustration. “You don’t deserve this. GOD chose the wrong one.”

“He chooses everyone babe,” she whispered. “Everyone has to face death one day. That’s what makes life worth living.”

A’shai had not yet come to terms with the inevitable, but Liberty had a way of poetically putting things into perspective. They washed one another silently until the water ran cold, then A’shai carried her into their room.

He laid her in the bed and sat in the cozy, leather La-Z-Boy that was positioned beside it.

“Let’s talk,” Liberty said.

“You should rest, baby girl,” A’shai asserted.

“I don’t want to sleep. I want to keep my eyes open and hear your voice for as long as I possibly can. Tell me the story,” she insisted.

“You know the story, Lib. You lived it with me, ma. Besides that story ain’t always happy,” A’shai replied.

“But it’s ours, Shai. The good, the bad, the ugly… it doesn’t matter because it’s our story, and I want to hear it again. That story is the only legacy I’m leaving behind. Please, babe. You know you’re going to end up giving me my way so you might as well just say yes and start talking,” she shot back with a weak smile.