The Truck Driver

Sulkers

Gwen tossed her purse on the dresser and let out a heavy sigh, glancing over at her sister. Martha lay curled up on one of the queen-sized beds, her back turned, her body still as if sleep would somehow erase the shame clinging to her. But Gwen knew better.

"You still sulking?" Gwen asked, kicking off her shoes.

Martha didn't respond at first, just stared at the wall like it held all the answers she'd been too blind to see before. Finally, she exhaled shakily. "I fucked up, Gwen."

Gwen scoffed, sitting on the edge of her own bed. "No shit."

Martha closed her eyes as yesterday's events replayed in her head like a damn movie she couldn't turn off. Tank had beaten the absolute hell out of Vince—didn't even let him finish his verbal attack on Kayla before he snapped. She could still hear the sickening crunch of fists meeting flesh, the sound of Vince groaning in agony. And then Tank had turned on her.

"You a piece of shit." His voice had cracked when he said it, his fury laced with something deeper—disgust, hurt, disappointment.

And then his mama—Lord, his mama.

His mama had ripped into her, her voice sharp and unforgiving as she clung to Kayla like she was her own. No second thoughts. No hesitation. That woman had more maternal instinct for Kayla than Martha ever did, and that's what broke her.

Martha shook her head, her chest tightening. "They love her, Gwen. Without conditions. Without question. They protected her like she was one of them." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Hell, she is one of them."

Gwen studied her sister for a long moment. She wanted to say something slick, something that would make Martha see just how much damage she had done. But instead, she sighed.

"Yeah," Gwen said, voice softer than expected. "And that's something you gon' have to live with."

Martha wiped her tears, but they kept falling. She had already lost Kayla. But now, now she had to sit with the weight of knowing she was the reason.

Gwen rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned against the dresser. She didn't feel a lick of sympathy for Martha. Not one damn bit. Because she knew her sister—knew she was still going to be with Vince when all of this blew over. Martha wanted her cake and to eat it too, just like always.

"You better be lucky you my only sibling and mama and daddy aren't here no more," Gwen scoffed, shaking her head. "Because the way I feel, I wanna beat your ass for what you allowed to happen to my niece."

Martha winced but didn't argue, and that pissed Gwen off even more. At least fight for your child, she wanted to yell. At least pretend to have some damn remorse.

Gwen might be rich, bougie, and living a life far removed from the bullshit Martha put up with, but one thing about her—she could fight. That's why she ran her mouth so recklessly, because she could back it up with her hands.

Martha sniffled, finally rolling over to face Gwen. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face full of shame. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel like shit?"

Gwen smirked, unimpressed. "Oh, I know you feel like shit. Question is, what you gon' do about it?"

Martha opened her mouth, then shut it just as fast. Because they both knew the answer.

Nothing.

She wasn't going to leave Vince. She wasn't going to change. And she damn sure wasn't going to fix what she broke with Kayla.

Gwen sighed, pushing off the dresser. "That's what I thought." She grabbed her purse, digging through it for her room key. "I'm done talking about this. Get some sleep, Martha. You gon' need it when you realize just how alone you really are."