YAYA
The kitchen smelled like garlic butter, fresh herbs, and comfort, which is exactly what my soul needed. I’d just finished plating two servings of shrimp linguine tossed with roasted tomatoes and spinach, a sprinkle of parmesan giving it that extra layer of comfort. Simple, but rich enough to calm my anxiety, if only temporarily.
I set the plates down gently, breathing deeply, my chest tightening slightly as my eyes flicked toward my phone on the countertop. Ezra’s call had been replaying in my mind constantly since we’d hung up an hour ago.
His voice had been raw and vulnerable. When he admitted how much our silence was tearing him up, I felt the tension in my body release for the first time in days. Just hearing him say my name again had melted the frost gathering around my heart.
But I was nervous too. Because now there was nowhere left to hide. No way to gloss over the argument or pretend we didn’t hurt each other. Tonight, we would finally have to talk and I wasn’t sure what would happen next.
I turned the shower and stepped in, letting the water wash away the last four days. With each gentle lather of lavender soap and each deep breath of steam, I felt myself calm and grounded. I told myself we’d be okay, hoping the words would make it true. Afterward, I put my locs in a messy bun and slipped into a short, oversized cotton tee paired with lace boyshorts beneath. It was just comfortable enough to look effortless, but cute enough to remind him exactly what he’d been missing.
A knock at the door made my pulse quicken, sending nerves fluttering through my stomach. I exhaled, padding barefoot across the hardwood floors to let him in.
When I opened the door, my breath caught in my throat. Ezra stood there looking every bit of fine he was in a black sweatsuit, the pants hanging low on his hips. I could tell he'd been drinking a lot lately, his good eye roaming my body slowly like he was memorizing every inch.
“What up?” he said softly, his voice low and careful.
“Hey,” I breathed, stepping aside. He entered quietly, immediately filling the room with the rich scent of his cologne, spicy and warm and painfully familiar. For a moment, we just stood there awkwardly, tension thickening the air until it became almost suffocating. “You hungry?” I finally asked, my voice shaky.
He nodded, offering a cautious smile. “Shit smells good.”
We moved into the kitchen, settling at the table. I poured two glasses of red wine, hoping the smooth warmth would ease our nerves. We ate quietly at first, the silence stretching as we both struggled to find the right words. Eventually, Ezra broke it.
“Food’s bomb. You really threw down.”
I smiled softly, grateful for the opening. “Thanks. Cooking helps clear my head.”
He met my eyes directly. “You had a lot on ya mind lately?”
“Too much,” I admitted softly, swirling the wine in my glass. “You?”
He exhaled deeply, gaze dropping briefly. “Same.”
“I hated not speaking to you,” I confessed, voice barely above a whisper.
Ezra’s eyes flicked up again, softer now. “Me too. That shit felt… wrong.”
I nodded, feeling a lump rise in my throat. “I didn’t mean what I said. About love not being enough. I was scared and frustrated. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He looked away briefly, then nodded. “I know. But ya family… that whole scene… it got under my skin like you saw me different around them.”
“I didn’t,” I whispered quickly, reaching for his hand impulsively. “I swear I didn’t. It was just… pressure. I handled it wrong.”
Ezra squeezed my hand gently. “Maybe we both did but we here now.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, heart racing at the tenderness in his voice. “We are.”
We finished dinner with a lighter conversation about the exam, New York, and the mundane bits of life we’d missed. But beneath the small talk, tension simmered, slowly shifting into something hotter, deeper, inevitable.
When I stood to clear the dishes, Ezra rose quietly behind me, bringing his plate to the sink. As I rinsed dishes under the warm stream, I felt his body press lightly against mine from behind. My breath caught sharply when his lips touched my neck, gentle but firm, tracing a soft, deliberate line up to my ear.
“Baby, I missed you so fuckin’ much,” he murmured, low and honest, voice gravelly.
I shivered, turning slowly to face him, our bodies inches apart, warmth radiating between us. Without thinking, the words slipped out. “I love you.”
He froze for a split second, eyes widening, surprise and relief flooding his gaze. Then he smiled, hands moving to cup my face. “I love you too.”
There were no more words after that, only his mouth claiming mine urgently and fiercely. The kiss deepened quickly, mouths open, tongues searching desperately as weeks of built-up tension melted into pure, unfiltered desire. Ezra lifted me onto the countertop effortlessly, standing between my thighs, hands gripping my hips. I moaned into his mouth as he pressed against me, hardness evident, need overwhelming.
His mouth moved down my neck hungrily as his hands slipped beneath my tee, pulling it swiftly over my head. I gasped at the chill of the air hitting my skin, then sighed as his mouth covered my nipple, teasing, licking, and sucking expertly.
“Ezra,” I whimpered, gripping his locs tightly. “I need you.”
“Then take me,” he whispered roughly, pulling off his shirt, and letting his chain fall heavily against his chest.
I slid off the counter, pulling his sweats down urgently. His thick length sprang free, fully hard and ready. Without hesitation, I turned, bracing myself against the counter as he entered me from behind, slowly stretching me, and making me cry out softly.
“I missed this shit,” he groaned, thrusting deep, slow at first, then harder, faster, gripping my hips, driving into me. “I missed you. God, I love you.”
“Ezraaaa... fuuuuck, babe… I… love you too,” I panted, feeling myself unravel, pleasure building rapidly.
We came loudly, passionately, my knees shaking as I collapsed back against him, breathless. But he wasn’t done. Sweeping me into his arms, Ezra carried me swiftly into my bedroom, laying me down gently, climbing over me again, gazing deeply into my eyes.
This time, when he entered me, it was slow, tender, achingly intimate. We moved together as if rediscovering something sacred, whispering love, promises, and apologies. Each kiss, each touch felt like a vow, a reaffirmation.
“I’m yours,” he whispered fiercely, eyes locked with mine as he brought me over the edge again.
“And I’m yours,” I gasped, tears slipping down my cheeks as pleasure and emotion overwhelmed me.
We stayed tangled together after, breathing quietly, hearts beating in sync. In the quiet afterglow, Ezra gently traced my cheek with his thumb, eyes serious, full of certainty.
“We fight, we argue, we fuck up but I’m never lettin’ you go again, Yaya. This shit right here? Us? It’s forever.”
I pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, believing every word, surrendering fully to love when suddenly the sharp buzz of my phone shattered the silence like a glass dropped onto tile.
Ezra stiffened immediately, shifting away just enough for me to see the screen. My heart stopped. Flashing brightly, the name “Jaylen Pierce” illuminated the room, a cruel interruption of the intimacy we’d just reclaimed.
Ezra’s gaze darkened instantly, hurt and confusion quickly morphing into anger as he sat up abruptly, snatching his sweats off the floor. “Jaylen Pierce?” he repeated bitterly, eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck is Jaylen, Yavanni?”
My heart pounded, my throat tightening with panic as I quickly grabbed my robe, hastily wrapping it around my naked body. “He’s nobody. Just someone I used to know from high school—”
He scoffed harshly, cutting me off. “Nobody? Yet he’s blowin’ ya phone up at midnight?”
“It’s not like that!” I pleaded, voice rising, desperate for him to understand. “We ran into each other randomly. He’s interviewing at Hollis Medical too and—”
“Hollis Medical,” Ezra laughed bitterly, his good eye cold. “Of course. ‘Cause this mahfucka fits perfectly into ya parents’ plan, right? Bet they’d love his ass.”
I swallowed hard, standing shakily to meet his accusing stare. “You’re jumping to conclusions, Ezra. It’s not even like that. I haven’t seen him in years!”
“But he feels comfortable enough to hit ya phone this late, though,” he snapped, anger radiating from him. “The fuck is he callin’ you for, Yaya? He ya lil’ backup plan?”
“No!” I yelled, anger and hurt mingling sharply. “It’s not—”
“Then what is it?!” he exploded, eyes blazing with betrayal and pain. “‘Cause it looks real fucked up from where I’m standin’. Just another way I don’t fit into ya lil’ perfect picture.”
“Stop it!” My voice shook with my eyes burning with hot tears. “I chose you! You’re here, aren’t you? You think I’d lay with you like this if I didn’t love you? You think I’d fight for us like this if—”
“Yeah?” he shot back bitterly. “But the second somethin’ comfortable comes callin’, you right there, entertainin’ the shit. Tell me somethin’, Yaya, did you tell him ya folks would love him too? Bet you can see yaself fittin’ right in wit' his ass.”
“Ezra, that’s not fair—” my voice cracked, emotions choking me. My heart raced as panic overtook me, frustration and anger boiling beneath my skin.
“You know what’s not fair?” he shouted, stepping into his sneakers roughly, his eyes wet with anger. “Not fair is you tellin’ me you love me, then lettin’ some other nigga hit you up in the middle of the fuckin' night. Not fair is havin’ me believin’ we fixin’ shit when really you just settin’ up another option. I ain’t nobody’s option, Yavanni. Nobody’s fuckin’ placeholder.”
Tears blurred my vision as my chest heaved with hurt and frustration. “Ezra, listen to me! You’re twisting everything. You won’t even let me explain!”
“‘Cause you got caught!” he yelled, pain raw in his voice. “If ya phone hadn’t lit up, you’d be smilin’ in my face, keepin’ him as ya ace in the hole. Nah. Fuck that.”
My hands shook and my throat was tight with sobs I fought to hold back. “Ezra, please! Stop! Just listen to me!”
He shook his head harshly, eyes glassy but cold. “Nah. You said enough. You showed enough. You want perfect. You want safe. You want somebody ya family can swallow easy. Cool. Go ahead. Do you.”
“Ezra, please don’t do this,” I begged, voice breaking. “I love you. I swear, it’s you!”
He paused at the door, eyes hard, the hurt in his expression slicing through me like a blade. “You don’t even know what love is if you think it’s this shit. Good luck on ya exam and that interview. Good luck with ya picture-perfect ass life.”
“Ezra!” I screamed, desperation ripping through my throat, tears hot on my face. “Please, don’t—”
“Fuck this,” he spat bitterly. “I’m done.”
He slammed the door behind him so hard the walls shook, and the echo shattered what was left of me. I stood there frozen, heart hammering, tears spilling uncontrollably down my cheeks.
“Fuck you, Ezra!” I screamed at the empty space he left behind, my voice breaking into anguished sobs. “Fuck you!”
I sank to the floor, knees buckling under the weight of heartbreak, crumbling completely as reality crashed over me. My breath came ragged, heaving, as I cried from deep within my chest, rocking back and forth, holding myself tight. I’d lost him again and this time, I’d destroyed it completely.
“God,” I whispered brokenly through my tears, “please, no…”
But silence answered me, heavy and deafening, leaving me alone on the cold floor with nothing but regret and the pain of losing Ezra all over again.