16. Malik #2
Sametra snickered and then exhaled softly. “I’ve been on my own with Samaj for so long... I don’t really know how to let someone all the way in. People change. People leave. I learned early on that love can be temporary, even when you don’t want it to be.”
She paused, then continued before she could talk herself out of it.
“But Malik... he’s so damn sure. About us.
About this future he sees so clearly. And most days, I believe him.
But sometimes...” her voice dropped to almost a whisper, “sometimes I wonder if I even deserve that kind of love. The way I’ve had to survive, pick up the pieces, and silence my questions on why someone would leave me, starting with my mother.
My first instinct is to question anything that feels too good to be true. ”
My whole chest stiffened. I wanted to run in, wrap my arms around her, and tell her she didn’t have to doubt this, not me, not what we were building.
But I didn’t.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew this moment wasn’t about me.
This was about her finally giving voice to the kind of ache that hides behind strength.
And my mama— God, she looked at Sametra the way she used to look at me after my daddy died.
Not pity. Not judgment. Just knowing. Just love.
I stood there, hands clenched, and jaw locked, forcing myself to let my woman say what she needed to say... and trusting that I could show her the answer every day I kept showing up.
“Listen to me,” Mama’s voice was gentle but firm. “That boy of mine doesn’t do this. And not because something is wrong with him or that he didn’t have the chance. Malik told me years ago that he’d know his wife when he saw her. Well, honey, you’re that woman. He called me that night.”
“And said?”
“ ‘Mama, I met my wife.’ You stole that boy’s heart from first glance. He laid eyes on you, and that settled it. You think you don’t deserve it, but honey, it’s what I raised him to give you.”
“I just don’t want to mess this up. What we have is so good, and I’ve never had anything this good before. All these what if’s play in my head from time to time.”
“That’s exactly why you won’t mess it up. You know what it’s like to not have it, so you’ll fight for it when you do. Just like he will.”
“Look, you raised a beautiful son on your own. You built a career, went back to school, and created a life. Same as my boy. Now it’s time to live a little, love a lot, trust the process and yourself, have some fun…
just not under my roof,” my mama laughed as I shook my head.
“Laugh, eat good food, cuddle, hold hands, vacation. One day at a time. Life is to be lived, it a plus when you get to it with someone you love.”
Standing there on the stairs, listening to my mama speak life into the woman I loved, knocked the wind out of me. This was exactly what Sametra needed to hear, and exactly why I’d brought her home.
“Thank you,” Sametra whispered. “For raising such an incredible man. For welcoming me and Samaj. For... this conversation.”
“Honey, you’re family now. That’s what family does. I hope there will be many more conversations amongst us girls. Like me having to cancel my date with Mr. Robb.”
I rolled my eyes because I knew she had a little friend.
And I knew it was Mr. Robb’s ass. I shook my head but quietly continued up the stairs, my heart full.
Whatever doubts or fears Sametra had been carrying, Mama was helping her work through them.
And that conversation confirmed what I already knew—it was time to make this official.
Time to give her a reason to never doubt her place in my life again.
The cookout at my Aunt Mabel’s was in full swing, with the smell of barbecue filling the air and music playing from someone’s Bluetooth speaker.
It was hot as hell down here. I missed home, but I didn’t miss this damn heat.
I was standing tryna stay cool with my cousins, Dre and Eli, cold beer in hand, watching Samaj fit right in with the younger crowd.
“So this the one, huh?” Dre asked, nodding toward where Sametra was sitting with my cousin Jasmine.
She looked good as hell in her red tennis skirt, family reunion T-shirt, and Jordan 1’s to match, slowly I was turning her into a sneaker head.
She was completely at ease like she’d been part of the family for years instead of hours.
“Man, look at him,” Eli laughed, taking a swig of his beer. “Nigga been grinning like an idiot all day. I ain’t never seen Malik this happy.”
“Y’all can kiss my ass,” I said, but I was smiling. “I ain’t responsible for your failed rosters. Don’t hate on me.”
“Bruh, I’m proud of you. That’s Eli on that hating shit. I’m glad your quiet crazy ass found someone.”
“I ain’t quiet crazy. Just not for the bullshit.”
“The hell you ain’t,” Eli cut in with a laugh. “You made it out, got your degrees and all that, but I was there when folks used to test you. Nigga, you blacked out on them boys so bad they ran home cryin’ to they mama.”
Eli wasn’t wrong.
Growing up in Butler Terrace, I had to fight damn near every other week just to prove I had the right to walk to school in peace.
If it wasn’t about my height or my clothes, it was that my daddy went out for milk and never came back.
Like that wasn’t half our story growing up.
Some daddies left. Some got locked up. Some just didn’t survive.
My mama tried to keep me locked in, school, football, scholarships.
Stay out the mix. But the streets ain’t care about none of that.
Your GPA didn’t matter when somebody decided you were an easy target.
When they tested me, I showed up. Because if they thought they could try me, that meant they thought they could try my mama. And I would never let that fly.
My uncle pulled me aside early and said, “You the man of the house now. Don’t start nothin’, but don’t let nothin’ slide either.” I took that to heart. I chose a different path, but make no mistake, I was still on fuck shit if fuck shit appeared.
“I was protecting what was mine then, same as now.”
“Babygirl must like that protective shit becau…”
I shot an icy mug with my mouth twisted Dre’s way. “Sametra,” I corrected firmly. Nobody gave her a fucking nickname but me. The nerve of this nigga. We held eye contact until he looked away.
“See, that’s that crazy shit right there,” Dre laughed. “You was ready to put me on my neck. As I was saying, Sametra over there can’t take her eyes off you.”
I glanced over at her, and sure enough, she was staring at me with that soft look that made me lean further back. When our eyes met, she smiled and did that little wave thing with her fingers.
I blew a kiss her way as she dipped her head and went back to her conversation.
“You niggas wished.”
“Damn, he really got it bad,” Eli said, shaking his head. “Remember when you used to say you’d never get married because women were too complicated?”
“I was young and stupid. I didn’t know what I was saying.
And hell, they are complicated, I’m just not lazy anymore.
Anything worth having is worth working for,” I said schooling them.
“Like Sametra, she gets turned off by stuff quick. One week its Swedish Fish this and that, and the next its fuck Swedish Fish. I stand behind her on that. Fuck Swedish Fish.”
We laughed for a good five minutes because they understood.
Sametra would be obsessed with something one week and act like a toddler about the next.
Shit was wild, women had shit with them, but my baby was worth all that.
It was whatever she wanted, when and how she wanted it.
It was crazy but I was crazy about her, so let’s call it a balance.
“You were twenty-eight, nigga,” Dre laughed. “That wasn’t that long ago. What was it you used to say? ‘I ain’t built for all that relationship drama.’?”
“It was eat it, beat it, delete it, right?”
I remembered those conversations, sitting on this same porch after family gatherings, watching my cousins go through breakup after breakup.
Back then, I thought I had it all figured out.
Focus on my career, keep things simple, and don’t get too attached.
I’d seen too many good men get their hearts broken by women who didn’t appreciate what they had. Or stick around for the money.
“That was before her,” I said, turning back to them. “Before I met someone who makes sure she shows she loves me back.”
“Look at this nigga getting all philosophical,” Eli teased.
“Babies in the mix? Cuz, she looks cute with one.” I looked back over to Sametra and sure enough, she was playing peak a boo with my cousin’s daughter.
The thought of Sametra carrying my kids shot fire through me.
I could picture it, her with a little belly, complaining about her feet hurting while I rubbed them.
“Yo, Dr. Holloway,” Samaj called out, walking over to our group with a dap for everyone in the group. “Can I holler at you for a minute?”
Something in his tone made me look at him closer. He’d stopped calling me Dr. Holloway a while ago. This wasn’t the casual, joking energy he’d had all weekend. This was serious.
“Yeah, man. What’s up?”
“Privately,” he said, glancing at my cousins and then back at me.
Dre, Eli, and Marlon took the hint, dapping us up before heading toward the domino table. I followed Samaj to a quieter spot near the edge of the property, under a big oak tree that provided some shade and distance from the party.
“Aight, what’s on your mind,” I said, settling into one of the lawn chairs someone had set up.
Samaj looked around to make sure we couldn’t be overheard, then fixed me with a look that reminded me so much of his mother it was scary. Same intensity, same way of cutting straight through the bullshit to get to the truth.
“I heard part of your phone call earlier. At Ms. Yolanda’s house.”
My jaw tightened. “Oh yeah? How much did you hear?”