Chapter 22 #2
Silence stretches between us.
“I think,” he continues as if he’s realising it as he speaks, “the way I’ve been moving about all of this with us wasn’t random. It was me trying to get back there. Trying to feel that again.”
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling.
“That wasn’t the real me,” I say quietly.
“It was,” he replies without hesitation. “It was a you. From before.”
I turn my head just enough to look at him. His face is half-lit by the city glow through the window.
“That night,” I say carefully, “That’s not sustainable, Jabari.”
“I know,” he says.
“And you don’t want her back,” I say quietly. “You just want how she made you feel again.”
He shifts beside me. “And how did she make me feel, Jabari?”
I turn my head toward him. “Like you can’t do any wrong. Like you’re the most important man on earth.”
He lets out a low breath. “That’s not true. I liked her even when she was a smart arse.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, please.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “Just like I want you. After everything. Even with all this mess.” His voice drops. “I don’t want this to be over yet.”
My stomach tightens.
“I want—” He hesitates, then pushes through it. “I need commitment.”
I sit up a little. “What?”
“If we ever get caught,” he says, steady now, “I need commitment. I want you to stay with me. Even if it all comes out.”
My chest feels tight. “Jabari. You don’t understand what you’re asking me.”
“I do,” he says immediately. “I’m not saying I’d out us, I’m not reckless like that. I’m saying if it does happen and if it comes to light—I want us to still choose each other, again.”
I swallow. “I just—”
“I don’t need the answer right now,” he interrupts gently. “I’m not forcing anything. I just need you to know. Think about it. Please.”
I nod slowly. “Okay.”
And I actually mean it.
He relaxes after that, like something unclenched in him. A few minutes later, his breathing evens out. I lie there awake a while longer, staring into the dark.
I don’t sleep.
My mind keeps circling the same things: His presence and my company.
Before today went to shit, the meeting revealed a lot.
I think about the studio and my team's hope when Jabari walks in. About how my anger didn’t matter the second it became their opportunity.
I think about the way his presence commands rooms before he even opens his mouth.
The way mine does not. It almost did… but was quickly taken away.
And what does that mean for the rest of my career? What happens if we do go public?
Do I lose all my agency? My autonomy?
I refuse to be stripped of it all just to become some footballer’s WAG.
Commitment.
Damn. Who am I kidding?
If this were just sex of convenience, I wouldn’t be here staring at the ceiling counting his breaths. I wouldn’t have cursed his shitty agent out for bad mouthing him to me. I wouldn’t be with him now while my best friend calls my phone repeatedly. The truth is, I do care about Jabari. Deeply.
Still, I keep thinking about Za finding out. And how I could look her in her face after everything.
What would Clark Kent do?
At some point, the dark changes without me noticing. The room gets lighter and morning creeps in through the gaps in the curtains. I blink and realize the sun is up.
I haven’t moved. I haven’t slept. I haven’t solved anything.
Jabari stirs beside me, murmurs something unintelligible, pulls me closer without waking.
And I let him.
Because for a few quiet seconds, before the day starts asking things of me again, I just want to exist in the mess without naming it.
He shifts, blinks a few times, then focuses.
“You stayed,” he says, voice rough with sleep.
“I did.”
There’s a pause. He studies my face like he’s checking for damage.
“Did you get some sleep?”
“No.”
“Why not, Jelly?”
“’Cause,” I say quietly, “I’m thinking.”
He exhales through his nose. “About what I said?”
I nod. I stare at the wall, at nothing in particular, because if I look at him too long I might lose the nerve to say it properly.
“It’s just… I have a lot to figure out right now,” I say.
“My brand is so important to me, I don’t want to just be known as your girl.
And Za is really important to me too. I love her like she’s my own sister.
I can’t put this on her right now. Not when I know how much it’ll hurt her. So I just… I don’t know what to do.”
He doesn’t rush in with solutions or try to make my position feel childish. And I appreciate that.
“You don’t have to say yes to me if you don’t want to,” he says eventually. “I get your position.”
The tightness in my chest loosens just a little.
“Thank you,” I say. “And… I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” His arm settles around me again, pulling me into him. I let my head rest against his chest.
“I hope we never get found out,” he murmurs and it makes me laugh.
My phone lights up on the bedside table with Za’s name.
I stare at it like it’s about to bite me, letting it ring out until I flip the phone face down and try to breathe through it. Two seconds pass.
Then Jabari’s phone starts ringing.
He doesn’t even have to look at the screen. We both know who it is.
I sit up slightly, heart kicking harder. “Answer it.”
He arches a brow. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “If you don’t answer after everything, it looks weird. Just—answer it.”
He watches me for a second longer, searching my face before he picks up.
“Yo.”
Za’s voice comes through immediately, loud enough that I can hear her even without the speaker on.
“Finally! Where have you been? And don’t tell me training because I know your schedule.”
“I’ve been around, Za. What’s up?”
“Are you with Frankie?”
He glances at me. I give him a look that says please don’t say anything.
“No,” he lies evenly. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is Frankie’s missing!” Za fires back. “She’s been dodging my calls and messages, and she didn’t come home last night or the night before! I’m not stupid, Jabari. Something’s off.”
My stomach twists.
“How should I know what’s going on with your friend,” Jabari says.
“…Wow.”
He exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m just saying—Frankie’s grown. She don’t exactly report her movements to me.”
“She does to me,” Za replies quietly. “Or at least she used to.”
I stare at the ceiling, guilt creeping up my throat. This is my fault. Every part of it.
Jabari shifts beside me, tone changing to a softer tone.
“She’s probably under a lot of pressure,” he says.
“I know that!” Za shouts. “You don’t think I know that? She gets like this when everything piles up and now she shuts me out.”
He nods, even though she can’t see it. “Yeah…”
“I just don’t like not knowing,” Za says. “She’s my person. If something’s wrong and she’s not telling me… I start thinking I did something. Or, what I did hurt her beyond repair. How could I not defend her? She’s always on my side, how could I not be on hers? After everything…”
Jabari looks at me then. Like he wants me to take the phone.
“I can’t…” I mouth.
“Zee. She cares about you,” he says instead. “Probably more than anyone.”
Za lets out a breath that sounds like it’s been stuck for a while. “I know. I just—sometimes it feels like we’re growing in different directions, you know? And I’m scared one day I’ll turn around and she won’t be with me anymore.”
The words hit too close.
Jabari swallows. “That ain’t happening.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he says firmly. “’Cause no matter what she’s got going on, you’re still the first person she worries about. Even if she’s pretending she doesn’t.”
Za is quiet for a moment. “…You really think that?”
“I know it,” he says. “But she’s rubbish at saying it.”
A small laugh comes through the phone. “Tell me about it.”
Then, gentler, Za adds, “I just need to know we’re still okay. Me and her.”
Jabari’s gaze doesn’t leave mine as he answers.
“Then, when you see her, tell her,” he says.
“Don’t wait till it turns into something bigger in your head.
Just tell her how you feel. Tell her you care.
Tell her she’s the most important person in your life.
That you want her by your side, no matter what.
Tell her…” I swear he looks me dead in my eyes and says this. “…you love her.”
I literally stop breathing.
Za’s voice wobbles when she speaks again. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is.”
Another pause.
“…Alright,” Za says softly. “I will. Thanks, Jabari.”
“Anytime.”
He ends the call.
The room feels too quiet after.
He lowers the phone slowly and looks at me, something unguarded sitting in his eyes now. We hold each other’s gaze for a moment too long.
Then another.
And neither of us looks away.
Jabari’s hand comes to my face, thumb resting near my cheekbone, he’s testing whether I’ll flinch.
When I don’t, he leans in and kisses me on the nose.
My eyes sting, and I hate that, because I’m not trying to cry. I’m not trying to feel anything at all. I’m trying to hold it together. I exhale and pull back.
“I should go,” I say, voice shaky.
Jabari doesn’t argue. He just watches me with his lips tight as if he wants to but is choosing not to.
“Need me to drive you?”
“No, no. I prefer the bus.”
“Alright,” he says finally then walks me to the door.
“Here,” he hands me a key. “Keep this on you, at all times.”
“Is this?” I examine it. What could I have possibly done to earn the key to his place? “Why?”
“I trust you to have it.”
“Does Za have one?”
He shakes his head, “Only you.”
“Hm,” I ponder that. Trust. A new step, a scary one. “I guess, if you promise to remain anonymous, you could still invest in the project.”
He just stares at me. Is he okay with that?
“Text me when you get in,” he says.
I stare back at him , then the key, then nod once. I guess he is. “Cool.”
And I’m out.
The journey home feels longer than it is.
My phone buzzes twice on the way. I don’t check it until I’m outside my building.
I check the screen.
A missed call from Za.
Two messages: