Curvy Girl Summer

Chapter 12

My weekend had a shaky start with that poor excuse for a date. And even though I had a great night with Nina and the concert was amazing, I was discombobulated by my Ahmad fantasy. So I had no clue how seeing my family for the first time since Aniyah’s birthday was going to affect me. I knew it was going to push me over the edge if things went anything like the last time. After the weekend I’d had, I was in no mood to talk about my relationship status.

I’d talked to my parents, and everything seemed cool over the phone. But pulling up in their driveway on Sunday afternoon, I was brought back to the irritation I felt a few weeks ago.

“Now why is he here?” I wondered aloud as I parked behind my uncle’s car.

They did not tell me he was coming.

I was thankful I had plans after my lunch with my family to pick my spirits back up if they got on my nerves.

Using my key, I didn’t bother to knock as I entered my childhood home. “Coming in,” I called out.

“There she is,” my grandmother greeted me with open arms.

I enveloped her in a tight hug. “Hi, Nana. How are you?”

“I’m all right, doll baby. How are you?”

“I’m not bad.”

She released me from the hug and eyed me. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. I know we talked on the phone, but I just want to put eyes on you and make sure you’re okay.”

I nodded. “I’m okay.”

“You look good.” She gestured to my outfit. “Is that new?”

The bright orange tropical shorts with the matching tank top were cute and kept me cool on the hot summer day.

“I got it at the end of last summer, so this is my first time wearing it,” I informed her as we walked into the kitchen.

“Your father and your uncle are outside on the grill.” She pointed out the kitchen window. “Your mother is upstairs. We were getting the food ready.”

I looked around. “This is a lot of food for just the five of us.”

“Some of it is for us. Some of it is for the church.”

“Ohhhh, okay.”

My mom jogged down the stairs, her footsteps pounding against the wood. “Is that my daughter I hear?”

“Yes,” I called out before she made her way into the kitchen.

With a bright smile and open arms, my mom rushed over to me. “Well, don’t you look beautiful!”

“Thank you. You, too.”

When she pulled out of the hug, she asked, “How is everything? Any update about… anything?”

“Anything like what?” Nana wondered. She pulled the macaroni and cheese from the oven. “Good news, I hope.”

I frowned a bit. “Update about…?”

“About life. About work. About your friends.” My mom’s smile grew. “About that man you’re seeing…”

My grandma turned around and gave me a look.

I was just as confused. “I’m not—”

“Aaliyah!” My dad called my name with such enthusiasm that I jumped. “When did you get here?” He carried a plate full of burgers and gave me a one-armed hug. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Hey!” I greeted him. “I am. Good to see you, Dad.”

“How’s everything going?” he asked with a grin. “I see you’re overdressed as usual. You look good, though!”

“Thanks,” I laughed, gesturing to his salmon-colored shorts and matching shirt. “I get it from you.”

“Is that Aaliyah I hear?” my uncle asked my dad as he carried in what looked like hot dogs and bratwursts. “There’s my niece.”

I pursed my lips. “Hey, Uncle Al.”

Making small talk, we washed our hands and fixed our plates. We sat down at the dining room table, and my mom filled us all in on her big news.

“I’m going to be co-teaching Bible study starting this fall,” she revealed with bubbly excitement. “They made the announcement at church this morning. Me and Liz are going to lead it together!”

“Congratulations, Mom,” I said after swallowing some of the best macaroni and cheese I’d ever had.

“What’s your schedule going to look like?” Dad wondered.

“You might as well get paid for something because you already spend all your goddamn time at that church,” Uncle Al commented.

“Albert!” Nana admonished him from across the table. “Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

We spent the next hour talking about Mom, the church gossip, and Uncle Albert’s need of prayer.

“And that’s how they found out she was sleeping with the associate pastor,” Uncle Al finished.

“For someone who doesn’t go to church that often, you sure know all the gossip,” my mom quipped.

“For someone who goes all the time, you sure don’t know nothing,” he retorted, causing us all to laugh. “Unless Liz told you, you don’t got no information. What are you in there doing?”

“I’m getting the Word… like I’m supposed to,” she argued. “You’re listening to everyone’s business when you should be listening to the Word.”

They bickered back and forth like they always did. Nana lovingly complained about them going at it. Dad and I laughed and egged on the situation. It felt like old times. After the last time I’d spent time there, it was exactly what I needed.

“I think I’m about to head out in a few minutes,” I announced, patting my full belly. “This was delicious, thank you.”

“Worth the thirty-minute drive to the outskirts of town?” Nana teased. “You can’t get home cooking like this in the city.”

“The best restaurants wish they could do this,” I agreed, swallowing the last bite of my food.

“Well, let me tell y’all this one last thing…” Mom started talking, and I listened intently as my food digested. “But that’s just what Liz told me,” Mom concluded.

“Oh, speaking of Liz,” my uncle started, turning his head in my direction. “When does Marcus move back here?”

My nose crinkled. “I don’t know.”

“Next month,” my mother answered him quickly. “He’s already lined up a really good job in the city. At Franklin Financial. So, he’s looking at places to live downtown.” With a quick peek at me, she continued, “I told Liz I would ask you for suggestions…”

“I thought we were leaving the Marcus thing alone,” my dad said, bemused. He looked over at me. “Your mom told me that you’re bringing some boy you’re seeing to your party.”

The last thing I wanted to think about was a date. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to keep dating after the past few weeks.

Trying to change the subject, I asked, “What about asking me about my job? My friends? The rest of my life?!”

My father made a face. “Because you told me about the other stuff. You ain’t say nothing about this new boyfriend, so that’s what I want to talk about.” He crossed his arms. “And I’ll ask my daughter whatever I damn well please,” he added with a chuckle.

“Now, Darryl, leave Aaliyah alone,” my mom chastised with a catlike smile. “She’ll tell us about him when she’s good and ready.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I told them.

“Because she ain’t got nobody! I done tried to tell you!” Uncle Al exclaimed. He shifted his body and his attention to me. “Now this Marcus fella sounds like a good one, Aaliyah. He got a few dollars on him, too.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” I told them, picking up my empty plate to take to the kitchen. “I have to get back to the city.”

My uncle’s lips turned down into a frown. “You ain’t gotta run off.”

“If she says there’s someone, there’s someone,” Mom argued, standing up for me.

I appreciated my mother defending me and I felt bad about not being completely honest about my situation. Just as I opened my mouth to tell them all the truth, my uncle interrupted me.

“She can’t head into thirty alone,” he warned. “And at the rate she’s going…”

“Now hold on, Al.” My dad turned his chair to face him. “What are you trying to say?”

He lifted his arms. “All I’m saying is that I want to see Aaliyah married off just like you do.” He gestured around the table. “Like we all do.”

“It’s her life. Let’s let her live it,” Dad replied.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “It’s my life. Why does it matter to you?”

My uncle dropped his hands with a loud thump against his thighs. “Because I know you ain’t got nobody, and I’m just worried is all. With Aniyah—”

“Let me worry about me, please,” I sighed, standing up.

Nana put her hand on my arm. “As long as you’re seeing someone and not settling for someone, I’m happy to hear it.”

“We want the same thing,” Mom spoke up.

“Yeah,” Dad added.

“Well, I mean, either way—see or settle with somebody with a few dollars in their pocket soon. You’re not getting any younger,” Uncle Al mumbled.

Mom swatted at him. “Can you shut your mouth for once? For once? One time?”

“Fine! But if there’s not a man at this birthday party, I’m going to say I told you so,” he replied. “This is why at the end of the summer, the yacht’s going to be put up for sale.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Nana reacted.

“Aaliyah knows,” he stated.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you are antagonizing her, and it needs to stop,” Dad said firmly. “It’s not happening again. Not in my house.”

I heard a low-toned argument between my dad and uncle while I threw my trash away in the kitchen. With my keys in hand, I returned to the dining room to officially say goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Aaliyah,” my uncle apologized as I got to him.

“I accept your apology, but you have to stop, Uncle Al. I mean it. You’re doing too much.”

“You know I don’t mean no harm.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he looked over my shoulder at my father.

“Okay.” My response was dry because I knew he didn’t get it. Whether he didn’t mean any harm or not, he didn’t get it.

He grabbed my arms and squeezed them. “And you know I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“And I look forward to meeting your boyfriend at your party,” he continued.

I pursed my lips. “Mm-hmm.”

Turning on my heel, I marched out of the house more determined than ever. After I prepared for work in the morning, I spent the rest of Sunday swiping and researching local events. I needed to put myself out there to find what I was looking for by my birthday. I didn’t just want anyone. I wanted the one for me. And while my uncle got under my skin and my family’s meddling got on my nerves, I wanted a boyfriend for my birthday for me—not for them.

I mean, yeah, I wanted to shut them up, and I wanted the yacht. My uncle’s problematic takes needed to be proved wrong. My parents’ unsolicited matchmaking needed to be stopped. But it was more than that. I wanted to show them that I was fully capable of living a happy, fulfilling life—with or without a man, with or without marriage, with or without a child.

Because I wanted a man, they would argue that we want the same thing for me. But that’s not true. I wasn’t just looking for someone to fulfill a role. I was looking for the man for me. And in order to get that, I needed to be open to meeting him. I needed to be open to opportunities to meet him. And just maybe I needed to be open to receiving help meeting him.

And for that reason, I walked over to Onyx on Monday after work.

Still wearing my yellow dress with the black zigzag print at the bottom, I opened the door and cast my eyes around the room. There were two people I didn’t recognize behind the bar and about fifteen people spread about the place. Over toward the back hallway that led to the bathrooms, I saw a broad-shouldered man in a red shirt standing near a booth. I knew it was Ahmad from his muscular physique. But it was his sponge-curl fade that confirmed it for me. His hand was pressed to his ear as he turned to the side. I eyed his profile as he stared down the hall.

I walked over and overheard his voice.

“I’ll be here for about thirty minutes, and then I’ll be home,” he said into the phone. “I love you, too.”

I stopped in my tracks.

His wife.

I never heard him talk about his wife, let alone talk to her. I suddenly felt uneasy about meeting him one-on-one. We were just friends, but he was a married man.

A married man who said he had something for me.

A married man who never talked to me about his wife.

I took a step back just as he turned around.

“She just got here, so I gotta go,” he concluded, ending the call.

He told her about me?

It made me feel better about the meetup.

He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Charlie Brown, you made it.”

Rolling my eyes, I held in a laugh. “You’re not funny.”

“Good grief!”

Twisting my lips, I hid my amusement. “You’re an asshole, and you’re not funny.”

“You know it was funny.” Pointing at the booth next to him, he continued, “We’re right here.”

I slid into the booth. “What’s wrong with you?” I cocked my head to the side and waited for him to sit. “You’re so bored at home that you invited me here to try out your jokes?”

His eyes danced. “I didn’t know you were going to come here dressed like Charlie Brown! How is that on me?”

I glared at him because now that he’d said it, I couldn’t unsee the comparison he was making.

I pointed dramatically toward the exit. “I will walk out of here and never look back.”

His head tipped back, and he chuckled. “Aight, my bad. I’ll stop. You look good. You look like wah wah wah wah wah.”

My eyes narrowed at his imitation of Charlie Brown’s teacher. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Cut the bullshit, Ahmad.”

Amused with himself, he sat back in his seat. “I just wanted to talk to you, check in with you. You enjoyed yourself at the concert?”

“I did. India Davis’s voice is impeccable. We were up top, so we had a great view of the stage. She puts on such a great show,” I gushed.

He nodded. “Yeah, she did her thing. She has the voice of an angel.”

“Aww. It’s cute watching someone with a crush.”

He rolled his eyes. “Here you go. We didn’t really get a chance to talk about it much, but my boys overexaggerated my thing for India Davis.”

“Bullshit!” I exclaimed. “I think it was in our very first conversation you said that your dream woman was India Davis.” He opened his mouth to dispute it, but I pointed at him. “Lie if you want to, but I know you got it bad.”

He burst out laughing. “Maybe I’m telling you too much because I don’t remember telling you that, but it’s true. You got me.”

With a self-satisfied grin, I wiggled in my chair. “I know. Oh!”

“What?”

I put my hands to my chest. “I’m so sorry. I forgot your umbrella at home, but I can go get it after we leave here.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t have to do all that running around. You can just bring it on Friday.”

“I live really close. It’s no problem at all.”

A smile played on his lips. “How close is close?”

“Across the street.”

He froze. “The Manor?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I wondered.

“I just moved there about six months ago.”

I gasped. “No!”

It was a big building with at least sixty luxury apartments in the restored space. I barely knew my neighbors on my floor, let alone other people within the building. But for some reason, the idea of Ahmad living in my building made me squirm.

He smirked. “Yes.”

“You’re really my neighbor?”

“If you really live there, then yes, I’m your neighbor.” He searched my face. “Why does that surprise you?”

“You live in my building. You work in IT. You like the same music as I do.” I lifted my shoulders and twisted my lips. “I’m starting to think you’re just copying me at this point.”

“You wish.”

“You wish.”

As we grinned at each other across the table, there was a level of comfort that almost made me giddy.

“We didn’t really get a chance to talk much after you came out with us. The fellas think you’re cool.”

I smiled. “Well, I am.”

He chuckled to himself. “You’re so humble.”

“I really am.”

“They liked you, though. A lot.”

“Good,” I replied. “Nina liked you, too. She said you were funny. So that’s one person.”

“You can deny you think I’m funny all you want, but I know the truth.”

“Nina had a few drinks when she made that assessment, so take that with a grain of salt.”

“Leon and Darius also had drinks in their system, now that we’re talking about it.”

We were both laughing and when it trailed off, he held my gaze. His face became serious, but his eyes remained soft. “How are you? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine. Everything is fine,” I said slowly. “How are you?”

“I’m cool. It’s Monday, so you know how that goes.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I hear that.”

He paused for only a second before he blurted out, “Okay, so what happened on Friday?”

Caught off guard, I didn’t immediately answer. “Uh… nothing. What do you mean?”

“You didn’t seem like yourself when you left. That giraffe dude said something that got to you?”

“Giraffe?”

“That long-neck dude you met up with on Friday.”

A loud cackle rang out of me. “You are so dumb!”

When our amusement died out, he looked at me expectantly.

“Nah, but seriously. What happened?” he wondered.

“It just didn’t work out. He said some bullshit I didn’t like, and I ended the date. So, he got mad that I ended it and said what they all say when a fat woman has the audacity to reject them.” I shrugged. “It really wasn’t that serious.”

“So, why did you leave?”

“Because I was over it. Between him and that woman, I was just ready to go.”

“What woman?”

I shook my head. I really didn’t feel like going through the incident with the backhanded compliment. “Just someone at the bar that rubbed me the wrong way. But what did you want to meet up about? It can’t be this.”

“It was exactly this.”

Surprised, I sputtered. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t like the way you looked when you left on Friday,” he answered. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I always keep my eye on you while you’re at the bar. Even when it’s too loud for me to hear your conversations, I try to keep tabs on the body language.”

“So now you’re a body language expert?”

“Nah, but I can read your body language.”

“What’s it saying now?”

My insides tingled as a slow smile crossed his lips. He stroked his chin as if he were contemplating. My narrowed eyes softened, and my cheeks felt flushed. I shifted my gaze and folded my arms across my chest.

The last thing I wanted him to do was read me.

“You’re guarded,” he answered. “You tensed up on me the minute I asked.”

I lightly cleared my throat and tried to relax. He was absolutely right.

“But it was your body language on Friday that made me want to check on you,” he continued. “Are you good? For real?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because you looked… stressed.”

“I wouldn’t say I was stressed.”

“Well, what would you say? Because you took off before I could really ask you anything.”

“I told you—the guy I was with said some slick shit, and I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, I got that. But you’ve had bad dates before, and you didn’t take off. And I’m gonna be honest… I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I wasn’t upset… I was more annoyed than anything.”

“Well, upset, annoyed, stressed, whatever the fuck it was, it wasn’t good.” He sat up, resting his elbows on the table. “So, are you ready to take my advice now?”

I sighed loudly. “Fine, Ahmad. What is your advice?”

He picked up a small box and slid it across the table. That was the first moment I noticed that he wasn’t wearing his wedding band.

“Take this,” he encouraged.

Eyeing the small white box suspiciously, I ran my fingers over the pointy edges. It looked like it could perfectly fit a bracelet or earrings. But Ahmad wouldn’t be getting me jewelry. There was no logo to give me a hint, so I had no idea what it could be.

I glanced up at him. “What is this?”

“Open it,” he insisted. His brown eyes sparkled, and his perfect lips spread into an endearing smile.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I broke the seal and lifted the lid.

It looks like something a spy would use.

My eyes flicked up to his. “What’s this?”

“Earbuds.”

“I… appreciate it. Thank you.” I took the thick plastic package out and held it in my hand. I noticed a QR code. “But what is this for?”

“It’s for you.” He reached over, took them from my hands, and opened it. “They’re so small, you could wear them on the date. Put them in. Scan the code. And then listen.” He handed them back to me. “Guaranteed to calm your nerves and get you out of your head.”

“Ahmad,” I whispered, surprised by the thoughtfulness of the gift. “That’s… Wow, thank you for this.”

He just smiled. “But this”—he pointed to the QR code—“is key. It takes you to a playlist. Everything is slower tempo, so it quiets your mind and releases the stress of the day.”

“How do you know?”

“Actually, my, uh, my therapist put me on. It worked that first time, and I’ve used it ever since.”

“So, you’ve been stress-free since you started?”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say all that. But it helps. Especially with the heavy shit.”

I searched his face, intrigued by the glimpse of himself he’d just offered me. “Heavy like what?”

He shook his head. “Nah…”

“You’ve had a front-row seat to my dating disasters and then paraded me in front of your best friends as a case study.” I pointed at him. “You owe me a personal story or something.”

He let out an amused grunt. “Okay, you’re right.” He sat back in the booth and stared at me across the table. “The car accident I told you about… a drunk driver ran through a light. Car was totaled, but I survived it, so you know… gotta take the good with the bad.” He forced a smile, but I could still see the incident haunted him. “Life is short.”

My hands went to my chest. “Ahmad, I’m so sorry—”

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” he interrupted. “But don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“Be the same asshole you’ve always been. What happened a couple years ago doesn’t change anything.”

“Damn, I was just saying I’m glad you made it through that!”

“Well, channel that energy into making it through a date.”

My jaw dropped. “Wowwwwwwww… That was a low blow.”

His eyes widened as if he were listening back to his statement. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

He laughed. “I really didn’t.”

I playfully glared at him.

“You need a drink?” he wondered, ignoring my glare. “You look like you need a drink.”

He jumped up, went to the bar, and returned a couple of minutes later with two drinks.

“Sweetie’s tea,” he announced, sliding my drink in front of me as he took his seat. “And Omar is going to bring burgers and fries over in a minute. You want to order anything else?”

“I’m good with just the fries for now. Thanks,” I said, bringing the glass to my lips. “Mmm.”

“You like it?”

“Who made this?”

His lips pulled into a smile before he took a swig of his drink. “It’s a secret family recipe. My grandma’s nickname was Sweetie. It’s her recipe.”

“This is really good,” I told him.

“You would do better on dates if you were like this.”

His random assessment kind of blindsided me, and I took a second to process it. Moving my glass to the side, I clasped my hands in front of me. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to help you out. Just…” He sighed, pushing his drink to the side as well. “Maybe you’re out of practice. Pretend I’m that giraffe ass—”

“No,” I interrupted, amused.

“Fine. The one with the wife—”

“No.”

“Okay, I’m going to be some random man you haven’t met yet.” When I didn’t say anything, he continued, “What is it going to hurt?”

I sighed. “Fine.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he started.

I pursed my lips. “Yeah, you, too.”

“Come on, Aaliyah. You said you already asked the basic questions before agreeing to meet with them. So, how do you want to start the conversation with them now that you’re on the first date?”

“I’d typically let him take the lead and initiate the conversation in person. How a man breaks the conversational ice tells me a lot.”

Ahmad nodded. “Okay… tell me about yourself. Tell me something you love about yourself. First thing that comes to mind.”

“I love my sense of style.” After the words left my mouth, I held up my hand. “And if you say some shit about me looking like Charlie Brown, I’ll air this bitch out.”

His head fell back as he let out a loud, hearty chuckle. “I’m not Ahmad right now. I’m your date. And your date will only say you look beautiful.”

“What do you love about yourself?”

“My sense of humor.”

With a dramatic sigh, I rolled my eyes. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, neither am I.”

Still laughing, he shook his head. “Let’s start again… What was the best and worst advice you’ve ever gotten?”

“Worst? To get on a dating app.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Aaliyah.”

“I stand by it,” I laughed. “What was your worst advice?”

He rubbed his hands together and then dropped them in his lap. “Play it cool.”

“Play it cool?”

“Yeah. Acting like I’m not affected by whatever is going on. Acting like I’m too cool and calm to act or react… or pursue. Middle school advice that I’m still outgrowing.”

I was intrigued.

“Very interesting.” I leaned forward. “I need an example of the adult you playing it cool.”

“Well…” He took a sip of his drink. “I was passed over for a promotion, and I acted like it didn’t bother me. Whole time, I’m hitting the gym twice a day for a week because I’m pissed. I’m online looking for new jobs because they had me fucked up.”

I snickered a little. “I feel you, though!” Cocking my head to the side, I watched him. “Why do you think you were passed over?”

“I honestly don’t know. That’s the part that fucked with me. There’s no good reason they could give me.”

I shook my head. “That is some bullshit, and I understand why you’d feel a way about it. Is this at the job you’re at now or was this in the past?”

“This was in June,” he laughed. “I’m still looking to get out of there. But yeah, I played it cool with everyone in my life. Pretended I didn’t care when I did.” He made a face. “Now, you’re the only person who knows the truth.”

I felt special.

My lips parted, and air rushed out. I wasn’t sure why words weren’t forming, but the longer we stared at each other in silence, the louder my heart pounded in my chest. Warmth crept up my neck and flushed my face.

I was so focused on the man across the table from me, I didn’t notice the waiter sliding two baskets between us until the scent hit my nostrils. Breaking eye contact, I looked at my food, over at the waiter who was halfway back to the bar, and then back up at Ahmad.

I cleared my throat. “If you ever need someone to not be cool or calm around, I’m here for you. I already don’t think you’re cool, so no harm, no foul.”

“Yooooooo.” He chuckled. “You’re an asshole for real.”

I grabbed a fry and winked at him.

“And you didn’t finish answering the question,” he continued. “Best advice you’ve gotten?”

I finished chewing. “To never let anyone get in the way of me being me.”

“That sounds like something I’d tell you.”

“No, that wasn’t you,” I informed him. “That was something my sister would tell me.”

“That’s good advice.”

“It is.” I looked into my glass and then took another sip. “She always had good advice.”

“Are you taking that advice?”

“I live by that advice.” I felt his eyes boring into me, and I felt myself wanting to say more. Instead, I shifted the focus to him. “What’s the best advice you’ve received?”

“The best advice I was ever given was from my father. It was simple, but he basically said to keep going.”

“Look at us with our basic advice.” I lifted my glass and waited for him to clink his against mine. “Cheers to us.”

“Cheers.” He took a sip. “It was basic, but it was powerful. For a long time, that kept me going. Those two words from my father put the battery in my back, and I didn’t give up on anything I wanted. Life happens, and you can kind of lose yourself, lose that momentum. Just as long as you don’t stop. So day by day, I push myself forward. I keep going.”

“I like that,” I murmured thoughtfully. “That type of mindset keeps you from being stuck.”

A look flashed across his face. Instead of responding, he picked up his glass and took a gulp.

“I’m glad you like the tea,” he said, his expression back to normal.

“Wait, what was on your mind?” I wondered, eating another fry. “You looked like you wanted to say something.”

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s nothing.”

“Ahmad.” My firm tone and twisted lips reiterated my skepticism. “First of all, I don’t believe you. Second, how do you expect me to keep telling you all my business and you don’t tell me the realness of yours?” I gestured between us. “There should be an equal exchange of information.”

It looked like he was about to argue, but then he exhaled. “I was just thinking about how the other day someone said something about if my motto is really to keep going, I wouldn’t currently be stuck, so it kind of tripped me out that you said that. That’s all.”

“Stuck…?”

He held my gaze but didn’t say anything. I felt stirring within me, and a tenderness flooded my system out of nowhere.

Is he talking about his marriage? Oh, wait… no, he’s talking about his job. That makes sense.

After swallowing, I started to ask to get clarity. “So, you—”

“Sorry, I have to take this.” He grabbed his phone and put it to his ear before I could see the name that flashed on the screen. “Hello?”

I watched him look everywhere but at me as he gave short answers to the questions he was being asked. “Yes… Yes… Cool… Yeah, I’m leaving now… I love you, too.”

His wife.

“Sorry about that.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I have to head out, so that’s the end of our practice run. I can get a box for the rest if you want me to walk you out?”

“No,” I answered. I needed time to gather my thoughts, and more importantly, I didn’t want it to look like I was meeting up with a married man. “I’m going to chill for a little bit.” I pointed to the fries. “And I want to eat these while they’re hot.”

He slid out the booth and stood. “You’re going to be okay here by yourself?”

“Are you going to be okay heading out by yourself?” I tilted my head to the side. “You need me to walk out with you?”

“Asshole Aaliyah is back.”

“Asshole Ahmad never left.”

He smirked. “I’ll see you Friday.”

Before he turned to walk away, I put the earbuds in the box and then tapped it. “This was really nice. Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Why do you care?” I wondered. I slipped the gift into my handbag.

“Because I’m invested at this point.” He paused and then added, “And no one wants a front row seat to a shit show.”

My jaw dropped. “That was rude as fuck! My dating life isn’t a shit show.”

He frowned. “Isn’t it?”

“I hate you,” I giggled. “You’re living in the past, and even if it was a shit show, it won’t be for long. I’m not giving up on what I want.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

“I’m not.”

“Listen to the playlist.”

“I will.”

He paused for a moment. “I love how you’re all in. You’re committed. You’re going for it. I respect that. I respect you. I don’t know if it’s because you want to spite your family or if it’s because you really want a man, but watching you go on these dates reminds me to keep going. That’s why I’m invested. That’s why I care.”

“Ahmad,” I breathed, putting my hand to my chest. “That…” I poked my lip out. “I love that.”

“Now if only you’ll listen to me about these clowns, you’ll be on your way.”

“Here you go,” I groaned. “You see how you go from sweet to sour in one fell swoop?”

“You have to start taking my advice. I know things.”

“How do you get your small-ass shirts over that inflated ego of yours?”

His lips twitched. Slowly walking backward, he said, “That long-neck muthafucka walked in here, and I knew instantly that he wasn’t the one for you. And you knew it, too. But you didn’t listen to yourself. Or me. You just sat over there like…” He hunched his shoulders up in his exaggerated imitation of me.

I cackled. “Goodbye, Ahmad.”

“Bye, Aaliyah.”

With a smile on my face, I watched him walk away. He dapped up the people behind the bar, and then he left Onyx without a glance back.

As soon as I was sure he was gone for good, I pulled out the earbuds and the QR code. I scanned it with my phone and queued up the playlist. For the next fifteen minutes, I just sat there listening with tears in my eyes.

The music wasn’t particularly sad.

I was just touched.