Makai Squared (Berkeley Bred #3.5)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

“At the end of the fucking day, Glacier, you won’t find a nigga like me. You’re a fucking square. You don’t know nobody. You don’t got nobody. Niggas not fucking with you. All the niggas you had before me lame and all the niggas after me gon’ be lame. Broke-ass niggas. Before me, you ain’t have but five hundred dollars to your name.

“Everything you are today is because of me! Remember that shit when you tooting that raggedy-ass Honda around the city with the gas light on and a trunk full of clothes because you can’t pay the rent in that fucking apartment I put you in. That whip I gave you, I’m repoing that bitch. Talking about leaving me. Bitch, I made you. I did. Me.

“The clothes on your back, I bought them. Them shoes on your feet, that’s me. Stop playing fucking games. Don’t act like you don’t know what it is. Leaving me means leaving with nothing, so make sure you choose wisely!”

“Is that all, Nelson?” Sighing, I blinked back the tears that stung my glossy orbs.

My head descended, peering down at the fluffy slippers that felt more comforting than the cold heels that sat by the front door waiting for me. To his credit, Nelson had purchased the black shoes with the red soles that I’d grown to love. However, the intensity of his hurtful words forced me to second-guess the decision to walk across that lengthy stage we’d practiced on with them clinging to my feet.

Willing myself not to cry, I thought of opposing times, fonder times, when his words didn’t slice me like steak knives and his anger didn’t rest in the pit of his stomach. During those times, he’d never spit such fire in my direction. During those times, I was paramount to his happiness and he was the source of mine.

But within twelve hours, it had all changed. The bitterness in my mouth at the sound of his name made my insides churn. Two small, yet significant pieces of information led us down an inevitable path that could end nowhere other than our destruction.

“Fuck you mean, is that all?” Angrily, he barked.

“I’m hanging up now.”

The warning was rooted in my deep desire to treat how I preferred treatment. Even in my despair, I was unable to inflict any amount of pain on Nelson or match his energy. I simply didn’t have it to give. The love that I harbored for him hadn’t disappeared overnight as our relationship status had, giving me more than enough fuel to remain cordial and respectful while facing scrutiny from his side of the line.

“Don’t hang up this fucking phone, Glacier.”

“What is it that you propose I do, Nelson? I won’t argue with you. I don’t have the energy or the time. In two and a half hours, I’m set to walk across the stage. I’ve worked extremely hard to obtain a degree so I refuse to let the news that my boyfriend is sleeping with my best friend and sometimes finds himself in situations that contradict his character disrupt the celebration. No matter how devastating it is. I can deal with my feelings another day. There won’t be another day for me to graduate nursing school.”

At the top of his lungs, he screamed, “I put you through nursing school!”

“Scholarships, hard work, late nights, and persistence put me through nursing school, Nelson. You simply provided a life that made all of those things easier for me. Nursing school was happening whether you were in my world or not. Did you make it easier? Yes. But I put myself through school.

“As stated a bit ago, I’m ending this call. Unless you’re calling to congratulate me, then please don’t use my number again. I’ve made it very clear that our time has ended. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. I wish you the best in life. I simply won’t be there to witness it and I’m okay with that. I need you to find a way to be okay with that as well. Goodbye, Nelson.”

As promised, I disconnected the call. A swipe underneath my eyes cleared my face of the tears without smearing my makeup. Gazing at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I inhaled deeply. What was supposed to be the happiest of my days quickly turned sour. Nelson and Valencia’s betrayal stung like a fresh bee sting, yet I still felt victorious.

I did it , I thought with widening nostrils and an aching heart. I finished .

It was still surreal. The feeling. The realization. The reality. My reality .

“Three deep breaths. Ten steps backward. Now I’m switching lanes. Tire marks. On my heart. It doesn’t beat the same.”

The words of Jhene Aiko’s track gaped my mouth and stretched my lips as I stood to my feet, pulling comfort right from under my bottom. There was so much more waiting for my presence than what had transpired in my absence. Showing up was the most prominent part of my future and punctuality was an addiction I wasn’t quite ready to kick this afternoon.

The tingling of my fingers was caused by the vibration of my phone. I lowered my gaze from the mirror to the screen, finding Nelson’s name on the screen, as expected. Quickly and quietly, I silenced the call. There was absolutely nothing else to discuss.

“’Cause baby I was born tired. Getting more tired.”

Tipping my head at an oblique angle, I traced the puffiness underneath my eyes. The concealer was applied lightly but obscured the blotchy, swollenness of my skin with precision. Because I had a twenty-five-minute drive, registration, and a position in line to take, time was of the essence. Though seemingly simple, the tasks would require at least two hours of my morning, leaving me with little to no downtime.

My journey to the closet in my studio apartment was swift. Upon entry, the light illuminated the large space. The boxes that piled up on the top shelf grabbed my attention. I reached forward and guided the sliding ladder in my direction. One by one, I climbed the bars until my chest was flush with the wood of the shelf. The Mossimo box I’d stored among the others that held designer bags and shoes slid from underneath the stack with ease.

I secured it under my armpit and descended the ladder carefully. The black dress that left me with little room to breathe restricted my movements, making the trip up and down a bit more dramatic than it was. Nevertheless, I rejoiced inwardly as my feet met the ground again.

Upon removing the top, I found the sleek, basic black pumps that I’d snagged six years ago. The walk down the aisle in the beauties was a painful one, one that I hadn’t anticipated until I was in my late sixties, possibly seventies. It was one that changed the trajectory of my life. One that left me broken and battered beyond recognition for two full years without giving me grace a single hour of a single day.

Closing my eyes, I remained still as visions of my parents resting peacefully in their caskets consumed me entirely. A fatal crash ended their lives simultaneously, breaking my heart a hundred times over. Some days, I found it difficult to lift my head from the pillow, due to the pain of their untimely demise, but the sound of their voices that still played in my mind was all the reassurance I needed to plant my feet on the ground in an effort to leave my mark on the world. They’d both done the same.

With a heart so heavy that it anchored my feet and slowed my pace, I treaded toward the bed, where I allowed the box to fall from my hands. It contacted the bed with a thud as one of the two shoes flew upward before landing right beside it. I lowered my body until it was flush against the comforter that was beckoning for my touch, attention, and tears.

One by one, I slid the shoes onto my freshly polished toes. Up on my feet, I smoothed my dress down, turning sixty degrees to meet the mirror’s surface for one final glance. Satisfied with my appearance, I tiptoed out of the makeshift bedroom that provided a sense of privacy. Though doorless, the wall that separated it from the living area served its purpose.

My appetite didn’t exist. The butterflies swarming in my stomach left little room for food, but the sight of the bananas on my counter reminded me that it was a better idea to make room than to leave without having even a bite. Choosing wisely, I snatched the fruit from the counter and began flipping the lights of my apartment off.

The peel slid down easily. Careful not to smear my nude gloss, I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth as I approached the door. My hand grazed the fob of the Bimmer that was parked out front, sending pain through my heart. With skyward brows that crinkled from the aching of my chest, I quickly pushed past the set of keys and grabbed the ring that held a large black fob with a silver button in the top right corner.

Angled downward, and to the right, my chin brushed against my shoulder. Hesitantly, I released a shaky breath while blinking back the prickling of my eyes. A shake of my head centered me again, helping me move forward without reservation.

Today is about you, I reminded myself. Not a car. Not a man. Not his affairs. Not a friend. Not heartbreak. It’s about you, Glacier.

Under the pressure of my thumb, a long, strategically cut key popped out of the large black block of matter. I swung my front door open, welcoming the sun inside. Its promises of vitamins and light left me waiting for rejuvenation.

Before slipping out of the door completely, I grabbed my handbag and the gown I’d steamed three times due to restlessness through the night. I stuffed the rest of the banana in my mouth to free my left hand for the cap I’d designed over the last week.

The loud, obnoxious sound of heavy machinery echoed in the distance, obliterating the silence that I welcomed each morning I emerged from my dwelling. Down the flight of stairs that led straight to my unit was the source. In front of the silver Bimmer that was gifted by Nelson a little over a year ago was a large hook as it climbed the bed of the fire-red truck with Dan’s Towing scribbled all over it.

Pausing momentarily, I observed the manner of precision with which the conductor operated. From the comfort in his posture, I sensed he’d been in the business a number of years. Weariness didn’t dictate his posture and neither did discomfort. He was well-composed, forcing me to correct the slant in my posture.

Slumped shoulders lifted, squared, and aligned with my chest, in which I hiked in the air, along with my chin. Head held high, I continued toward the Honda that was parked in the shade just behind my assigned carport where the Bimmer once rested. The dust that covered the paint made me promise to cleanse it thoroughly over the weekend.

A deep bucket, water, soap, and a rag felt like the closest I’d get to therapy with the near-negative balance in my bank account. In Nelson’s pursuit to punish me for ending our four-year relationship, he’d cleaned our joint account, transferring every dollar he’d given me access to. For years, I’d had access to his funds, freely spending without question or concern on his end. Unrestricted access made focusing on school and finishing my degree much easier than trying to keep up with the full-time hours that employment required.

The twelve hundred dollars in my emergency fund would swiftly dwindle now that the account was scraped clean and a car wash wasn’t one of the expenses I was willing to begin its decline with.

But there’s more . The miniature voice in the back of my head spoke.

But there’s not . I silenced it, refusing to consider the funds it was referring to, funds that I’d reserved for the care of my Nanny, funds that were granted to me after the death of my parents. Without them, my grandmother would require around-the-clock care that I couldn’t supply. The cost of her care home was a necessary expense I wasn’t willing to toggle with.

“God, please work,” I begged, tapping the left button repeatedly.

The sound of the locks lifting after a few tries brought a smile to my lips.

Thank you . With a hand covering my face, I peered toward the sunny sky.

Before climbing into the front seat, I freed my hands by placing everything inside of them on the backseat. Once I settled into the driver’s seat, my chest swelled with pride. A 2008 Honda Accord was the first car I’d purchased with my hard- earned money. I’d imagined passing it on to someone in need, but no one needed it more than me at the moment. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as I released a shaky breath.

It’s fine. Everything is fine . My mother’s voice sounded in my head. Everything is fine, Glacier . I closed my eyes as uncertainty toyed with my ability to believe everything was, indeed, fine. My circumstances said one thing while my mother said another.

Trusting her, I stuffed the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine stalled, forcing me to turn the key backward. In desperation, I twisted it forward again, receiving the same result. My stomach knotted as I pulled for oxygen that had seemingly been sucked from the air suddenly.

“Please,” I groaned.

A third attempt and the engine fired up with little hesitation. Relief reddened my cheeks and soothed my aching heart, momentarily. Refusing to allow my scuffler to quit before I began my journey, I switched gears and began the journey to the stadium where my graduation was being held.

The bright orange gas light that appeared on the dash as I reached the first red light warned me that pushing forward wasn’t the best decision. My lips smacked at the thought of another setback. Nevertheless, I angled the wheels of my tires toward the service station with their gas prices glowing on the large screen, sprouting from the lawn right out front.

At the very first available pump, my wheels halted. I stepped out of my vehicle with my wallet in my hand afraid that if I dead the engine it wouldn’t restart. To eliminate the possibility, I kept it running as I inserted the card associated with the account that Nelson once funded. If the system allowed it, I had every intention of over-drafting to secure a full tank as a farewell present for being blindsided by the drama that unfolded throughout the evening and well into the night.

Gasoline smothered the perfume I’d nearly slathered my skin with to make sure it lasted throughout the day. Peeking at the meter that measured the gallons and fund’s availability, I silently urged them both to continue beyond the twenty-dollar mark, which was a reflection of the account’s balance. As the dial turned and one replaced the zero that followed the two, I exhaled loudly.

“Everything is fine.” I repeated my mother’s words.

With a full tank and confidence brewing in my bones, I continued down Asher until I made a right onto Canton where I’d spend the next ten minutes before taking another turn.

“You be on all of that nonsense. How I’m still surprised when it’s always a process?”

The words belted from me as H.E.R. repeated herself on the track that had started a full minute ago.

“It’s so exhausting. I’m so exhausted.”

The silkiness of her voice was comforting, just as most of her songs were for me. Even when I couldn’t relate to what she was speaking about, I was comforted. Her love songs left me feeling just as exhausted, betrayed, and misunderstood as she did, though it was hardly the case.

Nelson had been the ideal partner until he wasn’t. As if a switch had been flipped, he transformed. The man who continued to call my phone repeatedly was not the man I’d fallen in love with, but he was making it so easy to release every ounce of that love I harbored for him.

As if he’d heard my thoughts, another call from a private number interrupted the music. Quickly, I pushed the volume button to clear the notification and resume the sounds coming through my speakers. Unwilling to allow thoughts of him to dampen the joy I’d quickly discovered, I scrubbed him from them. Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I tuned into the song that had just erupted in my car.

“Kiss me dangerous. Been so lost without you all around me. Getting anxious?—”

POP .

The loud sound startled me, stopping me mid-song. My brows hiked on my forehead, in a rush to meet my hairline. Confusion plagued me. However, the wobble in my once-smooth ride shed light on the predicament.

Not right now. Please, not right now, I begged, pulling closer to the lane reserved for emergencies and starting the flashers. Rushing out and around the car, I surveyed the damage. Sure enough, the right, front tire was blown to shreds.

“Oh, God.”

Cringing, I leaned forward, touching the rim that once surrounded my rubber. The restricted call that came through seemed to have perfect timing. My finger hovered over the screen as I contemplated answering the call, knowing that without a doubt, Nelson would come to my rescue. There’d never been a time he hadn’t. I was certain this instance wouldn’t be much different from the others.

However, my heart and head were aligned, not allowing me to make the foolish mistake. That chapter of my life ended when I closed my eyes last night. I refused to reopen it. I ignored the call as I circled the car and slid back into the driver’s side. When the screen was clear, I unlocked it and tapped the MAPS application.

Tire shops , I typed into the search bar. Immediately, results were revealed. Discovering there was a shop just a mile and a half away from me, I simmered down a bit. My shattered nerves began to repair themselves. The others were more than eight miles away, which posed a problem. The issue with living in the suburbs was that it was hard to find things like corner stores, tire shops, dollar stores, and any small shops.

My neighborhood was designed for those who had little worries and large pockets. Up until now, I’d blended well. From the car I drove to the shoes I wore, I fit the mold. But in the blink of an eye, that had all been snatched away from me and reality hit me with a mean right hook.

Ringing ensued. And by the time it reached the fourth, a thick, heavy southern drawl obliterated my thoughts and drew my attention back to the matter at hand.

“Domino Exotic Wheels. Who dis?”

With contorted features, I looked around me to make sure I was still in my neighborhood. In fact, I was. Who dis? The question wasn’t the issue. The way it was presented was.

“Who is this, you ask?” I rephrased.

“Same difference, Mommas. You called my line. I didn’t call yours.”

He was absolutely correct. Knowing that I didn’t have much time to waste, I stated my name.

“Glacier.”

“Glacier?”

“Yes, I am hav—” I continued, but was interrupted.

“Your people named you Glacier? Like the shit that shifts due to its own weight and ends up in large bodies of water? The perennial accumulation of crystalline ice, snow, rock, sedimen?—”

His disbelief didn’t come as a surprise. However, the fact that he was so well-versed in the subject was surprising to me. Not so much that he knew what a glacier was. We all did. He knew the definition in its entirety as if he had a dictionary in front of him.

“Please. I’m aware of Google’s definition of glacier. However, I’m having car trouble and really need help. My tire is destroyed and?—”

“Rim or regular tire?”

“Regular tire.”

“Glacier, since you’re so damn good at Google, you would’ve read that we ain’t that type of tire shop.”

Pausing, I counted down from five, determined to remain collected on the call that was demanding energy from me that I absolutely hated to release.

“I—”

Click . The line went silent, immediately.

Did he—wow . Groaning, I swallowed the lump in my throat. Did I say something wrong?

I replayed the conversation in my head. Google, I recalled. Dialing the number back, I replayed my apology in my head. My options were slim and my presence at the graduation was riding on the assistance from the nearest shop and it happened to be the one I was dialing back. As the phone continued ringing in my ear, emotions boiled in my stomach, rising to my chest as my eyes began to prickle with fresh tears.

Everything is not okay, Mom , I admitted inwardly. It’s not .

Hadn’t it been for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any today. Since I’d opened the text, my world had begun on a downward slope without promises of peaking any time soon.

“Domino Exotic Whee–”

“I apologize. I apologize for being so harsh on the last call. I’m sorry, but I really, really need assistance and you’re the closest shop to me,” tearfully, I rushed out.

The lack of sound forced me to take a peek at my phone. Sighing, I wiped away my tears when I realized the call was still in progress.

“Hello?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“My tire is in shreds. I’m on the side of the road.”

“I don’t sell tir—regular tires. I don’t have regular tires here, Mommas. I’m not bullshitting when I say that.”

The edginess of his tone remained, but it had softened tremendously.

“Is there any way you can help me find a tire? I know that’s a lot to ask of a stranger, but at this point, I’m des?—”

“Where you at?”

“Can—”

“Stay put.”

But you don’t know where I am , I thought as the line died again. My first instinct was to call back, but I didn’t want to become a nuisance. Instead, my body slid down the seat of my car, slightly, ending as the breath I’d exhaled did. I could feel my lips protrude from my face as I tried settling my nerves.

“What is life right now?” Frantically, I shook my head from one side to the other. “Dad, you can jump in at any point now.”

Over the last six years, I was certain they had their hands in the elevation of my world. Now that the blanket had been snatched from me, my world felt as cold as it did four years ago and my main task was to figure it out all over again. After years of everything unfolding perfectly, the change was like a fresh band-aid being ripped from my hairy arm.

“At any point.”

I closed my eyes, not from exhaustion but from overwhelm. Attempting to reduce the stress that was building and grab ahold of the situation at hand I began envisioning the life I was planning for instead of the suffering I would endure beforehand. Scrubs covered my body, gray, as I hovered over a large binder, marking my patient’s stats.

The vision progressed as time did. And it wasn’t until the bass of a stereo forced my eyes apart that they disappeared. Tiny hands and toes vanished in an instant. I searched for the origins of the thunderous sounds.

Left. Right. Front.

Behind me , I concluded.

The sound was coming from the black truck behind me that had pulled over into the emergency lane as well. Panic-stricken, I glanced at the lock on my door, confirming the smidgen of security that I had access to. For an extra layer, or possibly to appease the nerve endings that were splitting by the second, I pressed the button on the door to make sure all the doors were locked.

Through the rearview, my eyes danced, hoping to get a glimpse of the man who would probably be the death of me. My eyes bounced from my cell to the mirror. The numbers were typed by the time he evaded my line of vision and strolled toward my car.

You watch way too many murder documentaries, I chastised. Considering the amount of peace they brought me after a long night of studying, lectures, and labs, the thought was incredibly active. As a part of your relaxation routine, nonetheless .

I pushed my thoughts aside and stared straight ahead, afraid to look my defendant in the eyes. He wouldn’t get that satisfaction out of me and he wouldn’t be able to confess with those memories at the forefront of his investigation.

Where are you? I questioned, dropping my head and erasing the three numbers I’d pressed. With trembling fingers, I accessed my call log to locate the number I’d dialed twice before.

KNOCK. KNOCK .

“Oh shoot,” I squealed, my left hand landing near my heart. The sudden motion nearly forced it out of my chest. Simultaneously, my finger tapped the number on the screen, initiating a call.

This is it. This is the end for me. Mom, Dad, I’m com ? —

The sound of the ringing phone almost didn’t compare to the sound of my heart. It nearly silenced everything else around me. I placed the phone up to my ear. That thick, southern drawl, intertwined with undeniable haughtiness soiled the line.

“You want a nigga to help you or what, Mommas?”

I peered out of the window, the phone still against my ear, realizing the man that stood next to me wasn’t the man that would end my life. It was the man that I’d called for help.

He is not exclud— my conscious spoke.

Quiet. I silenced it.

Blinking, I tried reasoning with God, wondering how he’d possibly managed such a masterpiece in the midst of his workload. How he’d made time to carefully carve such an artful being with his tasks piling by the second was baffling.

Long, perfectly curled lashes and thick brows sandwiched dark eyes that were cold and calculated. They moved about my vehicle, taking note of anything and everything around me. He was observing, gauging my level of trouble while deciding whether he would move forward with the assistance. I’d read him completely. His eyes and posture were like glass at the moment. I could sense his hesitation and lack of enthusiasm. It was quite obvious that he was stepping out on a limb and doing something he usually didn’t. Before he changed his mind, I spoke into the phone.

“Yes. Of course,” I rushed out, breath as shaky as my fingers and loud as my heartbeat.

“Then open the door.”

For the third time, he hung up on me. Slightly offended, I unlocked my door, pushed it open, and stepped out of my car with a few words on my heart that needed to be released. However, his silence and wondering eyes, combing over me like bait, re-birthed the thoughts that I’d pushed away moments prior.

He is not excluded.

“You got something to get off ya chest?” He sniggered, revealing perfect teeth that were lined with gold.

I haven’t told a joke . I hadn’t, so his comic relief was baffling to me. However, it wasn’t lost upon me that the inside joke he found comical offered a glimpse of another profile, exposing a single, dimpled cheek and lips that curled upward. It was a far cry from the downward brows, widened nostrils, and inquisitive eyes that were slimmed to slits.

“No,” I lied.

“A liar. They teach you that shit in school?”

Of course . He’d noticed the cap and gown in the backseat of my car, quickly concluding my status as a student.

“No.”

“Then what’s up?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest, occupying more space than his lean frame required. The lack of distance between us eliminated my chances of getting past him. Though I had little reason to at the moment, the observation was still made.

“Do you make it a habit of being rude?” I wondered aloud.

“Do you make it a habit of calling motherfuckers you’n even know, back to back like that?”

Taken aback by his bluntness and the unsettling delivery, I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat while simultaneously swallowing the air that had been coated with his cologne. Immediately, I was under the influence.

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t approve of you talking to a young woman that’s having a crappy day, who has done absolutely nothing to you, in that tone.”

“She dead. She don’t give a fuck, Mommas. Respectfully.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You live and you die.”

His view on life was accurate, but it didn’t hurt any less. My mother, too, was deceased, but for some reason, I was reluctant to release that bit of information. Enough pity was shed on me with his presence. I didn’t want to add to the stirring pot.

The sadness that flashed across his dark eyes sat right on top of my chest. I knew that pain. I’d felt it over the last six years, but it doubled with both of my parents’ deaths. It was a deep, hallowing, and unexplainable pain that only people like him and I could feel.

“Respectfully?” My brows attempted to center as my neck stretched as I changed the subject.

“Since you need your blows lightened, yeah. Respectfully.”

Unable to respond, I simply nodded. I wasn’t offended by his cognizance of my gentleness or the need to have blows softened when aimed in my direction. Life itself was beating me without relief. I didn’t need a total stranger doing the same.

“I ain’t got your kind of tires,” he said, diverting our attention. “So get all ya shit out of here and I’m going to have it towed to my shop. We can figure it out from there.”

The vibrating of my phone startled me. My words were clipped in my throat as I nodded. With a squint in my eyes and worry lines across my forehead, I pushed forward. Slowly, he stepped backward, allowing me to exit the space he’d cornered me in.

The calculations started immediately. But instead of voicing my concerns, I obliged. One by one, I collected the items I’d just put into the backseat of my car. With them in my hand, I headed for the black truck that was still running. I placed my things neatly on the backseat and then settled into the front.

The scent of cannabis lingered. The car fresheners that dangled from the rearview mirror and lined the vents worked overtime to conceal the aroma, but it was unrelenting with its presence. The mixture of peach and marijuana was one that I didn’t expect to consider pleasant, but I did.

My phone buzzed in my hand for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few minutes. I cut my eyes to make sure that Nelson wasn’t in the vicinity. His persistence since the black truck appeared left me wondering if he was somewhere close, watching every move of mine.

Can’t be . I shook the thought with a release of heavy, hot air. The circumstances would have been much different and not in my favor had he been. My attention was quickly diverted as the movement continued ahead of me.

I watched as the man who’d interrupted his day and came to my rescue, checked my trunk for a spare tire that I didn’t have, secured my vehicle, and made his way back to the truck where I waited. Bowed legs and an incredibly long frame were only a few of the reasons that I was unable to tear my eyes from him until he entered the truck. His dark, licorice skin was another.

Please, Nelson , I begged, watching my phone ring again. Because I understood that ignoring the call would only add fuel to the flame burning inside of him, I slid a finger across the screen.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Why you not picking up the phone, Glacier? The fuck is wrong with you? All of a sudden, you ignoring calls and shit. When did you start this shit?”

“The moment I discovered my man was sleeping with my best friend among other things. That’s when, Nelson. Any more questions before I hang up?” I sighed, refusing to raise my voice even a notch or get my panties in a bunch.

“It wasn’t like that. I told you that shit. And stop listening to motherfuckers who mean you no good and are miserable as fuck, wanting you to be miserable with they bitch ass.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I warned.

“Wait! Wait.”

With a roll of my eyes, I waited to hear what foolishness was about to come from his lips now.

“What about the baby, Glacier?”

His words stiffened my body. Unable to move, I breathed heavily into the phone, evidence that my heart rate, head, heart, and nerves were all abnormal.

“We’re supposed to be a family, Glacier.”

It was untrue. Continuing my pregnancy was never our plan. With it being the year of my graduation, the plan was for us to terminate the pregnancy and plan for a child in the future. I wanted to plant my feet and get accustomed to life as a NICU nurse before I committed to a life that I birthed and would be responsible no matter the circumstances.

The pregnancy was a result of failed birth control. It wasn’t planned. And with everything happening the way that it was, it only confirmed that I had made the right decision by following my heart.

My body grew warm as my face tingled with disappointment. Nelson using the pregnancy as an avenue back into my world was as low as he could’ve scooped. However, my decision was firm and there was no changing it. More than ever, I wanted the termination.

“There’s nothing more to discuss. I hope that you’ll keep your word and provide the money for the termination of the pregnancy as we talked about before.”

“I’m not paying for you to kill my fucking child.”

His antics annoyed me, however, ending the call wasn’t the smartest decision. Without a doubt, I still needed the funds. Shelling out five hundred dollars that I didn’t have to give would deepen my debt and elevate my stress levels.

“Don’t do this, Nelson. We discussed this.”

“You discussed this with yourself. I was never with this shit from the start.”

Hot tears stained my face, smearing my perfectly applied makeup. Though light, it was so pretty. Nelson’s unbelievable claims had no business ruining it.

“I’m more than sure Valencia is willing to have your child. Me, on the other hand, I can’t give you that much access to me, anymore. Neither can I. It doesn’t even matter. I need the money and you said that you’d co?—”

A gush of wind brushed against my cheek just as my phone was removed from my possession. With unsteady brows and lips that crinkled, I turned toward the man in the driver’s seat, witnessing him end the call.

“I don’t think your mother would approve of you begging a nigga for a couple hunnid dollars when there are a hunnid ways to get that money.”

“She’s dead!” I belted, pulling open the glove compartment to find something to clean my face.

A black handgun fell from the glove compartment onto the floor in front of me. With both hands in the air, I pressed my back against the seat, closing my eyes and waiting to hear the loud bang before my lights went out. A titter pulled me back into reality as I peeked through one eyelid. Realizing I was still alive, I opened my eyes completely, patting my chest and abdomen.

“You good, Mommas. Here, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Thanks.” I accepted the tissue as he dropped my phone in my lap.

“And stay out my shit.”

“Maybe you should lock it,” I suggested, dabbing the tears from my face.

“So that I can struggle when it’s time to use it? Nah. I’m good.”

Locking eyes with the identical weapon resting on his lap with his hand clutching the handle, I wondered if I was the only one in the truck who’d noticed it.

“That’s backup.”

Finding humor in his revelation, my eyes widened.

“ Oh .”

“Now, use one of the napkins in here to grab it and put it back where you found it.”

Stunned by his instructions, I shook my head in protest. “I can’t do that.”

“Figured.” He chuckled, slamming the armrest down.

Gazing into the distance, I began to recognize the route we were taking, but still didn’t know where we were headed. The MAPs application revealed his shop was only a mile away, but we’d been traveling for some time now.

“Where are we headed?”

“To the one place they hold graduations for folk your age.”

“My age?”

“Yeah. You got somewhere else you need to be or something?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Good, then sit back and be quiet.”

“Thank you,” I responded instead of getting all in my chest about his remark. I’d learned very quickly that he meant little harm and was simply one who didn’t hold his tongue.

“Umm hmm.” He shrugged.

“I don’t have any money to have my car towed,” I blurted.

“Good thing I ain’t ask if you did, then, huh?” he scoffed, hiking up the music on his stereo to silence me.

Melting against the seat, I pushed the hundreds of words I wanted to share down my throat. The vomiting of my vocabulary felt much more productive than the silence he’d confined me to, but I settled, regardless. It was my nerves that wanted to lower the levees and allow my mouth to flood, nothing more or less. Somehow, he understood that.

Okay. I’ll shut up , I thought, folding the napkin in my hand far too many times.

Because, when a man that fine is willing to help a stranger tells you to, you just do , I reasoned, admitting that his perfectly sculpted face was partially the reason I swallowed my words and chose to retire my vocal cords momentarily.

His side profile was striking. The hole in his nose that allowed the jewelry to hook through his nose and rest in his right nostril was the final blow. With curiosity soaring through my veins, I tried reasoning with God’s intention when creating such a hunk of perfection.

The sliding of the gun beneath me quickly rescued me from the daze I’d fallen victim to. Slowly, I pulled my feet up onto the seat, slanting them so that I wouldn’t ruin my dress. His sudden movements demanded my attention.

Briefly, our eyes connected. The lingering gaze piqued my anxiety. I gnawed on my bottom lip and slouched in the seat, unsure if the truck was near crashing or if I needed a crash cart because my heart was failing me.

“It can’t shoot itself. It needs five pounds of pressure. Four in some cases.”

“Hmm?” My chest swelled as I asked.

“You’re not dying before you make it to your graduation,” he said to me. Though he wasn’t yelling, I could still hear him over the loud music.

Or, maybe I hadn’t. Maybe it was my addiction to his dark lips and white teeth that helped me understand every word that fell from them. Their wetness was damning. And watching him continue to lick them over and over was incredibly satisfying.

Nervously, I giggled with a nod, eyes dropping and following the piece that moved with each turn, stop, or acceleration. When they made it back to his face, he’d already turned away. Lightly, I sighed, closing my eyes briefly to catch my breath.

My morning was full of unexpected, catastrophic events that I was ready to put behind me. Within a matter of hours, my world had been flipped upside down. The blissful life I was living just yesterday was now a personal hell. Regardless, I was determined to show up for myself again. I’d worked too hard and made too many sacrifices over the last four years to sit at home, moping about another human’s decision.

I found myself lost in the darkness. It’s where I felt safe for the moment. After a tumultuous night and discovering how its aftermath would affect the rest of my life, I needed a second to process everything. And for the life of me, I didn’t understand why I felt so deserving of it in the presence of a stranger. However, having him at my side felt like a sign from the Man upstairs that He’d always come for me, no matter the situation or circumstances.

When I managed to pull my lids apart, the wheels were coming to a halt in front of the large sign that revealed our location. We’d made it, safely and in one whole piece. Gathering myself, I managed to make it out of the truck. As quickly as I made it to the back, so had he. His aroma forced my nostrils apart as they widened with pleasure.

The sleeves that were missing from his top left little to the imagination. Veins sprouted from his arms, sending my mind into a realm that I didn’t visit often for strangers. However, this one made it quite difficult. In fact, it was impossible.

“Here.”

Handing me my things, he stepped off to the side as if he was suddenly in a rush.

“Thank you so much.”

Finally, I spoke again. Remembering I had a voice was easier than I’d imagined after the long ride in silence.

“How long this shit lasts?” he asked, leaning down in the passenger’s seat to place the gun that had fallen back into the glove compartment.

Peering toward the stadium’s entry, I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe three hours or something close to it.”

“So, too fucking long, huh?”

Nodding, I responded, “Basically. But again, thank you.”

“No problem. I don’t have to remind you to call the shop about ya ride, because I’m certain you will.”

“I will.”

“Bet. And congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

With a smile that reached my eyes, I strutted toward the entry where I took the steps one at a time. Yet and still, I felt my body lunging forward. In an effort to maintain my balance, I grabbed the rail beside me.

Woah. Please don’t bust your face, Glacier .

My ankle buckled and I swore I’d torn something inside of it. I was able to get myself upright swiftly, but the damage had been done. Refusing to let him see me sweat any more than he already had, I bit down on my bottom lip, drawing blood, yet concealing the shooting pain in my foot.

So much for seduction and not busting my face in front of this man .

My entire body warmed. My cheeks reddened. I didn’t need a mirror to notice the change in my color. The embarrassment was evidence enough.

“Get yaself some bigger shoes, Mommas.” He chuckled, yelling across the parking lot.

Oh, God. He’s unhinged .

Without looking back, I listened as his door closed and he sped through the parking lot with his music blasting. I released the breath I’d been holding as I stepped inside the stadium. Quickly, I placed a hand against the wall and lifted my left foot, making sure I hadn’t done any damage. I didn’t need a sprained ankle affecting my ability to walk across the stage.

He’s right, I summed. Maybe my feet have outgrown these shoes after all .

I immediately pictured the red-soled shoes I’d traded for these. Surprisingly, I felt little to nothing as I lowered my foot and continued toward the meeting spot for the graduates. I didn’t mind wearing my old shoes if it meant forging a new, brighter path that didn’t remind me of the man who had forced me to embark on this journey so soon and without warning.

With Roseberry as my last name, it felt as if centuries had passed before my name was close to being called. With my hands tapping against my thighs, I waited at the edge of my seat as my classmates and their accolades were displayed on the large screens for the entire stadium could see. Roars followed each government name, family and friends celebrating their loved ones and the hard work they’d done over the last few years.

Maybe I should’ve at least called Brittney . Thoughts rang out as I smoothed my gown for the hundredth time to clear my palms of perspiration.

The two-and-a-half hour drive that my mother’s cousin’s daughter would’ve had to make felt like far too much to request of someone I’d only seen at family reunions and my parents’ funeral. However, the dreadful silence that would linger until the name after mine was called had me regretting not making the call.

It was so last minute, I reasoned. I’d been thrown a curveball that I never expected in the wee hours. The two people I wanted shouting to the top of their lungs as I accepted my degree, the two people that I’d give the entire world to had both betrayed me. So, silence, I’d have to accept.

Straightening my back and lifting my chest, I chose to unalive the negative thoughts that began surfacing. There was no time for pity. There was no time for pain. In the comfort of my home, when the day was done and reality hit, I’d allow my feelings to bloom. But for the moment, I tucked them away.

“Glacier Roseberry. Bachel?—”

My cheeks reddened as my face flushed with heat. Standing on my feet, I trekked toward the stage.

Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fa ? —

A loud bullhorn sounded. The fact that they were prohibited left me wondering how one had made it inside and who it had been meant for. I continued my journey toward the stage, stopping momentarily to peer into the large crowd in search of the source. My vision failed me, prompting me to keep pushing. I obliged, knowing that it would be impossible to pinpoint anyone in the sea of people.

Nelson . My heart grew weary as I silently prayed that his presence was no longer a concern by the end of the event. With his lack of patience, it was almost impossible for him to sit through a full graduation and that brought me comfort.

Whistling followed, penetrating the silence while stirring other attendees of the function. Soon enough, hands joined in unison to celebrate a stranger. Nervously, I approached the center of the stage.

Hand in hand, I posed for the professional photographer as I accepted my degree from the Mayor of the city. Right beside him was the dean and a few other people who made my years in nursing school a bit more bearable. The whistling and applauses continued until the next name was called. Thankful that silence hadn’t depreciated the valuable moment, I descended the steps with a smile on my face and trembling fingers.

You did it, baby, my mother’s voice sounded in the distance.

My girl, the sky is the limit, my father’s voice trailed.

With fresh, hot tears gliding down my cheeks, I strutted toward my seat. It wasn’t until my gown pressed against the plastic that I felt a burden larger than I’d realized lift from my shoulders.

I did it , I told myself. I did it .

With quivering limbs, I unlocked my cell and lifted it high while tapping the camera icon. When my face was in clear view, I snapped several pictures, showcasing my new credential. My proudest moment wouldn’t go undocumented. It didn’t matter that there were cameras snapping around us. I wanted— needed —my own proof of pure elation during the storm I was facing.

Again and again, a classmate’s name was called. My cheeks peaked each time they accepted their degree and continued across the stage. In a room full of strangers, I was inspired and motivated to keep pushing regardless of the circumstances. Momentarily, I regretted not making friends with the women and men who shared the same classrooms with me. The three women I’d gotten close to had all decided that the work required to finish nursing school was far too much to pair with the hardships of life and cut their losses early.

Tassels pierced the air before falling to the opposite side. In unity, we declared ourselves graduates. Chants erupted as everyone stood and made their way toward their loved ones. The pain in my chest as I witnessed the urgency in everyone’s stride, was a reminder that no one was waiting for me.

No one was anxious to wrap their arms around me and tell me how proud they were of me. No one standing on the tips of their toes trying to spot me out of the crowd. No one was perched at the promised meeting spot, anticipating the moment I turned the corner. There was no one. Not even Nelson.

I searched the sea of people that had crowded in the lobby, ready to march in the opposite direction. However, there was no use in preparation because he was nowhere to be found. Closing my eyes, I quietly thanked whoever had felt the pain of losing my parents and support system. Their cheering meant so much more than the naked eye was able to capture.

It wasn’t until the wind swiped across my face, freeing a new set of tears that I realized there wasn’t a car in the parking lot that belonged to me. The weight of my world rested on my shoulders as I lowered my eyes to the cheap black pumps with promises of bruising and swelling by the time I made it to the end of the parking lot.

I swiped the tears from my face before unlocking my screen. In the MAPS application, I searched for the nearest bus or train stop. The closest would suffice. With the negative balance in my account, I was counting on the few dollar bills in my purse to get me where I needed to be. A Carriage wasn’t even an option for me at the moment, though it was the quickest and ideal source of transportation at the moment.

Just as my eyes began to water again, I exited the MAPS application. Discovering the train stop was a mile and a half in the opposite direction and a bus stop was the same distance in the opposite direction was gutting. Desperation crept through me. The incredibly handsome, overly rude tire shop guy crossed my mind and stayed put. In no rush to leave, the thoughts had me toying with the idea of calling him.

Maybe my car is ready now , I reasoned.

It’s been hours. Sighing, I twisted my body from left to right, trying to find comfort through the discomfort.

Maybe he can bring it… or take me to it.

With those two solutions in mind, neither sounding better than walking over a mile in heels, I placed the call from my call log. Silently, I cringed at the fact that I’d called so many times on the same day. Nevertheless, I waited on the phone as the line began to ring, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, it rang before I tucked in my bottom lip, tasting the strawberry gloss that was left.

Four.

Five times it rang and then rolled over to voicemail.

Defeated, I ended the call and pushed my phone into the side pocket of my purse for easy access. I refused the blisters that would accompany me if I walked in the heels I wore. Instead, I rummaged through my purse for the extra pair of socks that I was certain were inside. I’d been meaning to remove them since Nelson and I had gone bowling. However, I was extremely happy I hadn’t gone through with it.

Instead of starting my journey immediately, I spared myself the shame by waiting until the parking lot was partially cleared and the sun began to settle before taking off toward the end of the parking lot with my heels dangling on my index and middle fingers. I placed my phone up to my ear and pretended to be knee deep in a conversation as I strolled, hoping no one felt pity, and stopped to talk to me. At the moment, I had no words.

The vibration against my face as I reached the edge of the parking lot startled me. I lowered the phone as I changed direction, taking a right to continue my journey. The unknown, yet very familiar, number that appeared sent chills down my spine. My heart began to hurt as my eyes started to burn with tears.

Not again , I begged them.

Being strong while your world was crashing down all around you was easier said than done. I couldn’t manage to keep it together for more than a few hours at a time. Though I didn’t want to answer the phone in the state I was in, the pain in my chest wouldn’t allow me to let it ring out.

“Hello?”

“You flodgin’ on that phone for what?” His voice was smooth and somehow reassuring.

Swiping my face with the back of my hand I shrugged. “So no one will—wait.”

It dawned on me. If he knew I was pretending on my cell, it meant he was near.

“Where are you?”

“Behind you. Turn around and dry your fucking face, Mommas.”

Doing as I was told, I turned to find the truck that had rescued me hours prior, rescuing me again.

“Did you drive all the way back up here to pick me up?” I asked, needing to know the truth, needing to feel like someone cared enough. Even if it was a stranger.

“I never left,” he admitted. “Come get in the truck. Rest your bones.”

The line went dead. Though I’d been given instructions, somehow, my brain wasn’t aligning with the rest of my body. I couldn’t move. I was stuck in place, wondering where this man had come from and why he was as thoughtful as he was.

Maybe his mother would be proud of him , I concluded, realizing she’d raised a decent man.

“You gon’ get in this motherfucker or what?”

This time, he didn’t feel so far. I could smell the mixture of cologne on his skin and the mintiness on his tongue. Fine hairs on the nape of my neck and the center of my back stood. The shoes that dangled from my fingers slid off with ease. Then, there were his footsteps, putting distance between us, again, increasing my heart rate at the same time.

Standing beside the door with it wide open, he welcomed me into his personal space once more. Still, I couldn’t move. I knew that I would and I desperately wanted to but the weight of my world wouldn’t allow it. For what felt like the hundredth time, I swiped the tears from my eyes.

“Come ’er,” he commanded, yet contradicted himself by coming closer to me.

I was paralyzed. Immobile. Unable to move.

His arms spread wide, spanning for miles it seemed, before his chest brushed against my cheek. They surrounded me quickly after, those long, never-ending arms of his. I unraveled inside the perimeter he’d created, clinging to his shirt as if it were my only chance of survival in the midst of a tsunami.

Body to body, we stood at the edge of the parking lot, neither in a hurry to part. Because I understood my burdens weren’t his to carry or hold for even a little while, I released myself from his grasp. It was possibly the hardest thing I’d done all day. I could feel my heart shattering in my chest as I did so. Though he was a stranger, I knew he had the ability to take the pain away— momentarily .

“Where ya people at, Mommas?” he asked as I stepped back, drying my eyes.

“I lost my parents in a car crash. My grandmother suffers from dementia. None of the family lived here other than us. Everyone else lives in Clarke and Roosevelt. A few in Channing.”

As the words left my mouth, I made my way to the truck. The door that he’d opened, I climbed through and sat in the passenger seat, resting my head against the softness behind me. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, but somehow, relief soothed the pain of it all for the first time today.

“You ate today?” he inquired, leaning into the vehicle.

His body stretched across mine, leaving me buried beneath him while he grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it downward. Once it locked in place, he stood off to the side with the frame of the door supporting his arm.

“No. Not really, but my eyes are swollen and my head is aching. Maybe something simple will suffice. I’m craving my bed more than anything right now.”

Solitude was the solution to every issue I’d faced since the death of my parents.

“Bet. I’ll feed you and then get you home.”

He closed the door behind me and made his way around to the driver’s side. The smell of freshly burned marijuana stuffed my nose, but it didn’t quite conceal the softer smell of live greenery. In search of the source, I turned to find the backseat filled with bouquets of red roses.

Upon recognizing the gesture and coming to the realization that it wasn’t in my favor, I faced the windshield with promises to mind my own business. Lucky girl . The thought rushed through my head while a sigh was released from my mouth. The relief I felt seconds prior was ripped from me as sadness set in.

“They’re yours,” he informed me.

“What’s your name?” I asked, feeling as if I needed to know a bit more about the man who had been in charge of damage control for the last four and a half hours of my life.

“Makai.”

“Thank you, Makai. They’re beautiful.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Where’d you get them? There are so many.”

“The nigga selling them in the lobby. I bought everything he had off ’em.”

“Everything?”

“Every one of them bouquets, plus the ones his partna had on him.”

“Filling the entire backseat?”

“Ain’t that the shit y’all read about and want to happen to you one day?”

Chuckling, I nodded. “It is. From a spouse.”

“Spouse, stranger, same fucking difference.” He shrugged.

Brushing invisible strands of hair out of my face, I nodded.

“Maybe you have a point there.”

“You ain’t have to tell me that. Now, let my strange ass get you some food. I hear ya stomach growling and sh?—”

I leaned forward and hiked the volume on the stereo, drowning out the last of his statement. Embarrassment left me with flushed cheeks and crinkled brows. This man was seeing me at my absolute worst.

There was no way I’d ever recover if I got the chance to see him again. That was why I was hoping I didn’t. At least until I was back on my feet and could offer him something other than a bucket of tears and the shameful smile plastered on my face.

With a shake of his head, he matched my energy. Chuckling, exposing those beautiful teeth with gold enhancements across a few. His complexion was breathtaking. He was infused with more melanin than the average person. Black like licorice, he made the gold jewelry that rested against his skin glisten without effort.

My God, he’s beautiful , I concluded, unable to take my eyes off him for more than a few seconds at a time. He paid me no mind, busy rapping to the lyrics of the song playing on the stereo. Dramatically, he moved his arms and hands, patting his chest and the steering wheel every once in a while.

Noticing my constant glaring, he turned toward me, the dimple in his right cheek on full display. The theatrics increased slightly as his eyes danced between me and the road. Finally, the song ended and the volume of the stereo decreased.

“You got a fucking eye problem, Mommas?”

He didn’t bite his tongue. That had been established throughout our time together. Adjusting to the pressure I was now under, I maneuvered in my seat. Upon realizing I had no response to the question he’d posed, he jacked the volume on the stereo up and continued his solo performance.

It wasn’t long before we were pulling into the driveway of a home that didn’t quite fit the description of those in the same neighborhood, not even of those next to it. The renovations were apparent. The home was now the size of two or three homes on the same street and resembled a result of gentrification after a Black neighborhood was discovered by white investors and developers.

The dark men that stood near the porch, all resembling the one I was sitting beside, dismantled that reality. The home was indeed owned by people with skin that was the most beautiful under the sun’s glow.

Without as much as an explanation, my knight in shining gold teeth was out of the truck before the wheels could come to a complete stop. Slowly, he crept up the driveway that was littered with luxury. One after the other, he slapped hands with every man standing around, finally shoving the slimmer one toward the grass.

Worry lines creased my forehead as I watched them both adjust their bottoms and lift their fists. In an attempt to mind my business and avoid second-hand embarrassment, I reclined the seat until the pain in my back subsided. Like a newborn, unaware that they were out of the womb, I curled into a ball. With my knees pressed against my breast and my arms wrapped around my legs, I rested my eyes and head.

A yawn ripped through my lip, widening my mouth and confirming the exhaustion I’d been evading over the last few hours. Hadn’t my comfort been snatched from underneath me, forcing me to feign for myself throughout the day, then I’d blame the exhaustion I felt on the nugget in my belly that I refused to acknowledge. But truthfully, I knew the pregnancy wasn’t to blame. I’d been gutted, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh.” I yawned a second time.

Shuffling in the distance stirred me from my slumber. Warm, wetness slid down the back of my numb hand, down my wrist. Confusion toyed with my alertness. Pulling myself together felt impossible as the light from the ceiling shined down on my face, blinding me temporarily.

What is happening? Where am I?

Familiarity was foreign at the moment. Disoriented, I closed my eyes to begin collecting my thoughts. The loud, obnoxious roaring of my stomach quickly reminded me that I was promised food and had yet to receive any. As my vision began to clear with the reopening of my eyes, I noticed the silver foil on the seat next to me.

“Makai?” Slowly, I turned toward the back where the noise was coming from.

“What’s up with yo’ slobbin’ ass?”

“Are you always this… in-insufferable?”

Groaning, I rubbed the back of my hand on my dress. My cheeks flushed red from shame. I used my right hand to let the seat up, bringing myself back to life almost immediately. Darkness surrounded us completely, leaving me to wonder how long we’d be in the same spot.

“How long have we been here?”

“Long enough for you to get a nap in. You looked tired as shit and I didn’t want to fuck with you, so I hung out until these niggas were ready to cut out.”

“Did someone cook dinner?”

The contents under the foil smelled divine.

“Yeah. My pops. We have dinner at his crib every final Friday of the month.”

“I’m sorry. Did I make you miss dinner?” Regretfully, I grabbed the back of my neck and pulled forward.

Finally done fiddling through the darkness, his eyes found mine. Pausing, he gathered his words before responding. Thankful that he was easing whatever blow he was about to land I waited, patiently.

“You ain’t make me miss shit. I’m good. I’ll sit down with them next month.”

Unable to muster a response, I let the silence settle the moment. Thoughts ran wild in my head, stemming from the start of my day to the call I’d made to the man who rounded the truck and sat in the driver’s seat.

Makai .

It was suiting. Unique, just like his coal-colored skin and single dimpled cheek. Unique, just like his aura. Since the moment he entered my space, I’d been blanketed with comfort. Though a stranger, he felt safe.

“Here,” he said, handing me the plate he’d picked up from the seat before sitting.

Saliva pooled in my mouth as I accepted it.

“Address?”

“1298 Asher Unit 2104.”

Soundlessly, he hiked the volume on the stereo. The selection of sounds had changed. SZA’s voice poured through the speakers, soothing my head and heart, simultaneously. Though my seat was upright, I still managed to find comfort, closing my eyes while enjoying the sultriness of the tune.

My face softened as the tension drained from every feature my Heavenly Father had blessed me with. Deep, cleansing breaths inflated and deflated my chest one after the other. With my palm pressed against the side of my thigh, I leaned into the contentment that discovered me. It didn’t matter if it was only for a little while. I had every intention of embracing it, enjoying it while it was around.

H.E.R. followed SZA’s voice.

Then there was Cleo Sol.

Then there was Summer.

Then there was Tink.

Then there was more SZA.

My chest caved for the hundredth time by the end of our journey. As the truck came to a complete stop, I noticed the only light shining in the vehicle was from the dash. He hadn’t typed a single digit or letter in the navigation system of his ride or on his phone. His sense of direction was impeccable. I wasn’t sure where we were twenty minutes ago and if I was asked to find my way back, I wouldn’t be able to.

As the gear shifted and the truck came to a complete stop, I winced. Our time had ended. The day was done. It was time to face the music, time to face the mirror. Enthusiasm was absent in my movements as I lifted from my seat and reached for the handle of the door. As quickly as I leaned forward, so did he. His large, authoritative hand apprehended mine, stopping me in my tracks.

Settling in my seat, again, I gave him my undivided attention. He shoved the same hand in his pocket and retrieved a large knot of money. Watchful, I waited as he counted off a few hundred and pushed them toward me. Unsure of their purpose, I began to question the reasoning behind his generous offer. Before the words surfaced, he was sharing a few of his own.

“Handle that little situation,” he demanded, tilting his chin toward my stomach. “Buy you something nice with the rest.”

“You really did?—”

“Save that shit, Mommas. Handle your business and don’t fix your lips to beg a fuck nigga again.”

“I-I… Thank you.”

“I’ll have your whip back to you within a week. It’s a bunch of shit that needs to be fixed on that motherfucker.”

“I haven’t driven it in two years. I had another car, but once we broke up, my e?—”

“I don’t give a fuck what that nigga did when y’all broke up, Mommas.”

“Understood,” I whispered. “Thank you, again.”

“Don’t forget to get yourself something.”

“I can’t think of anything better than paid rent,” I explained, finding humor in my crisis.

The weight of the small wad I was holding confirmed it was enough to pay a month or two of rent. That would be enough to secure the rest of my lease with the checks I’d be receiving from the job I’d claimed at the hospital already. I was simply waiting for an official notice.

My exit was interrupted again as he handed over the rest of the wad he’d pulled from his pocket. Puzzled, I paused. His generosity caused a tightness in my chest that subsided the second I witnessed the dimple appear on his right cheek as a shrug rolled off his shoulders.

“When I said buy yourself something nice, I meant that. Don’t disobey me, Mommas. I hate that shit. If you need your rent paid, use that one.”

He pointed to the stack he’d just given me.

“Wh—”

“And don’t question me. I hate that shit, too.”

“Makai… I can’t take this.”

“You don’t have another choice.”

“Is this all you have?”

“Mommas, don’t insult me.” He chuckled, squeezing every ounce of juice from my box.

“I-I mean… right now?”

“In cash? Yeah.” He nodded.

I peeled off two of the hundreds from the second stack and placed them on his lap.

“I can’t leave you with nothing,” I explained.

“Respect.”

He watched as I exited the truck, waiting for him to stop me again. This time, I wouldn’t bother unlocking my door and dragging my feet into my own misery. I’d gladly ride out in the night with him, no matter where we were headed. Unfortunately, his back rested on the seat as he watched me until I was out of the truck completely.

With heavy feet, I walked the short distance to my apartment, wishing my evening wasn’t ending. I wasn’t sure how, but I conjured the strength to stuff my key in the door instead of turning around and inviting the stranger I’d grown fond of inside my home.

Just keep going , I encouraged. You have a long road of healing ahead of you, Glacier. It starts now . Maturity led me inside where I shut the door behind me, pushing my back up against it so that I wasn’t tempted to open it and summon the man downstairs up to continue suffocating the pain that felt so real suddenly.

That’s unfair , I noted. Let him go .

Drawing my limbs as close to my body as possible, I soothed the achiness as best I could. The void that quickly formed could easily be filled with a single invitation. However, my heart wouldn’t allow me to cut corners or involve a completely innocent heart in my turmoil.

He’d seen enough of the broken me. He’d done enough for the damaged me. The best thing I could do for us both was allow him to leave and go on with his life while I began picking up the pieces of mine.

My cell buzzed in my hand. My initial thought was to silence it, knowing that Nelson was still trying to contact me, but the possibility of it being the man who hadn’t gotten very far prompted me to answer without even checking the screen.

“Hello?”

“Enjoy your freedom, Mommas. You won’t be free for long.”

The line disconnected after the second sentence, leaving me with unresolved emotions. Furrowed brows led to a satisfied smile. Placing the phone against my chest, I laid my head against my door.

Mommas .