Chapter 15 Naima
NAIMA
The sun was dipping low when we gathered on the back deck—me, Selena, and Tasha—three women in a pocket of quiet, a jug of iced tea sweating between us. Golden light washed over the trees, softening everything it touched. It was the kind of evening that made you forget the world was complicated.
We’d known each other long enough to recognize when silence meant peace, and when it meant something else. That day, it hummed with a question they hadn’t asked yet.
“I know you think you’re being all low-key,” Tasha said, swirling the ice in her glass. “But, girl, we see you.”
Selena’s smirk curved slow, eyes dancing with mischief. “Yeah, we see you, Moonchild.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the amethyst at my chest, rubbing the stone like a talisman. Its cool weight centered me, reminded me who I was. “See me doing what, exactly?”
They exchanged that look—one of those telepathic best friend glances that could speak a whole paragraph.
“Falling,” Selena said softly.
Tasha’s tone followed, firm but kind. “For Lennox.”
The air shifted. I opened my mouth to laugh, to tease, to deny—but the words caught, thick in my throat.
“It’s not like that,” I said, too quickly.
Selena tilted her head, eyes warm with knowing. “We’re happy for you. Really. We want this for you. We want that kind of love.”
“But?” I asked, because with them, there was always a but.
Tasha sighed, leaning forward. “We’re just worried. He’s… not a sure thing. A guest instructor? That’s temporary, Nai. He could pack up tomorrow.”
Their words landed like small stones in my chest. Not heavy enough to break me, but enough to stir the stillness.
“What do you really know about him?” Selena asked, her tone gentle but unflinching. “Other than the way he makes you moan.”
“Selena!” I swatted her arm, laughing weakly.
She grinned, but Tasha’s gaze stayed serious. “We know how you love. Deep. Whole. You give your all once your heart opens. Just promise you’ll guard the parts of you that took the longest to heal.”
I ran my thumb along the amethyst again, tracing the smooth edge like a prayer. I’d promised myself I’d choose peace this time. That I’d stay rooted. But Lennox—he’d slipped through my carefulness, quiet as breath, sure as sunrise.
“I hear you,” I whispered. “And I’m not losing myself. I’m just… seeing where it goes.”
Tasha squeezed my hand. “As long as you keep your footing. And if you don’t, you know I got hands.”
That laugh stayed with me through the evening. But so did their words.
Later, lying beside Lennox, my fingers traced the curve of his back while he slept—strong, solid, yet shadowed with something unspoken. The rhythm of his breathing lulled me, but my thoughts refused to rest. What did I really know about this man who had become my peace and my question all at once?
The Next Day
When my phone buzzed, I nearly dropped it, my mother’s name glowing across the screen. I was sitting by the window, the afternoon light soft against the mountains, the air heavy with the scent of pine and something like longing.
“Hey, Mom.”
Her face appeared, sunhat tilted, soil smudged across her gloves. She smiled wide. “Look at you, glowing.”
I laughed softly. “That mountain air must be working overtime.”
“Mmm.” She pressed a seedling into the earth, her voice teasing. “Or maybe someone is.”
I groaned. “You sound like Tasha.”
“That’s ‘cause y’all don’t realize how easy it is to read you.” She smiled knowingly. “You’ve always been transparent when your heart’s involved.”
My fingers went to my pendant again, a nervous habit. “I am happy, I think. Things with Lennox… they feel good. Real.”
Mom’s hands stilled. “But?”
The word was a mirror, showing me what I’d been avoiding.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “There’s this part of me that feels like I’m waiting for something to shift. Like he’s holding back.”
Her gaze softened, steady as always. “Have you asked him?”
“No. I don’t want to break what’s good. What if it’s just me overthinking?”
“Or,” she said gently, “what if it’s your intuition whispering truth?”
I looked out the window at the trail we’d walked just yesterday—his laughter echoing in the trees, his touch steady at the small of my back. My heart wanted to trust. My spirit wanted to be sure.
“I’ve fought hard to build this life,” I murmured. “The retreat… it’s sacred to me. I can’t handle another fracture.”
Mom nodded. “That place is your heart, Naima. It gave you back to yourself. You’ll fight for it, like you always do. But don’t forget—love’s supposed to be a safe place too.”
Her words wrapped around me like a quilt, warm and true.
“If he’s real,” she added softly, “he’ll meet you in the light. Secrets can’t stay hidden forever. The question is, are you ready for what comes out of the shadows?”
When the call ended, I sat there for a long while, the phone warm in my hand, the mountain air pressing close.
Somewhere beyond the trees, I could almost feel him—steady, quiet, unknowable.
And I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming.
Something that would ask me to choose between the peace I’d built and the truth I couldn’t yet see.
The air was cooler by nightfall, soft wind curling through the pines. Fireflies blinked near the edge of the trail, little sparks flickering like secrets refusing to stay buried.
Lennox and I walked side by side, our steps easy, shoulders brushing now and then. Neither of us spoke for a while. There was something unspoken between us — not heavy, just present.
We ended up near the creek, where the water hummed low against the rocks. He sat first, pulling me gently between his legs. My back pressed to his chest, his chin resting near my temple. It should’ve felt like peace. It did — almost.
But peace, I’d learned, wasn’t just quiet. It was truth.
I let the silence stretch before I spoke.
“When I was younger,” I began, voice soft, “I used to think love meant knowing everything about someone. Their favorite color, the way they liked their coffee, all their stories.”
Lennox’s arms tightened around me, a small sound humming in his chest.
“I thought if I could understand someone deeply enough, I could keep them. That if I asked the right questions, paid enough attention… they’d never leave.
” I smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes.
“But people leave anyway. Sometimes without saying why. Sometimes with a story that was never real.”
His breath caught, so faint I almost missed it.
“I had this friend once,” I continued, “back in college. We were close — not lovers, just… soul-close. Or so I thought. Then one day, I found out half of what he told me wasn’t true.
Everything I thought I knew about him… all lies.
When I asked why he felt he couldn’t be himself, he said he didn’t want me to see him differently. ”
Milo had a part of my heart those days. Laughter, dancing, freedom, and fun.
But he was hiding himself from me. He was selling drugs on campus.
Cheating through his classes. It never made sense to me because his parents were wealthy, and he always had access to money and opportunities I wished I had.
It broke my heart to know he was a liar who spent so much time with me…and even though what we had was far from romantic, it was intimate as friendships often are. Tasha and Selena were proof of that.
I stared at the creek, light glinting on its surface.
“But I did. Not because of what he hid… but because he didn’t trust me with the truth.”
Lennox’s hands slid down my arms, fingers lacing with mine. He didn’t speak.
“I don’t need perfection,” I whispered. “I just need honesty. Even when it’s hard. Especially then.”
For a moment, it felt like the whole world held its breath — the trees, the water, even the stars. Waiting.
I turned slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes were steady, shadowed, searching mine like there was something he wanted to say.
But then… he kissed me instead.
It was soft at first, reverent — the kind of kiss meant to soothe, to silence. And for a while, I let it. I let him pull me close, his mouth tracing a path down my throat, his hands anchoring me as though affection could replace truth.
But even as my body melted into his, my spirit knew. Love couldn’t fill the space where honesty belonged.
Later, as we lay tangled beneath the blanket of night, his breathing even and deep beside me, I traced the outline of his hand against my skin — strong, beautiful, still holding secrets.
And I wondered how long love could bloom in shadow before the light demanded entry.