Chapter 14
“Y’all need a refill?” the waitress asked, doing her round to check on her tables.
Cyren glanced down at hers, noticing her ice melting. “Yes, I’ll take one.”
“Same,” Bre said, sliding her cup forward without hesitation.
The waitress nodded, filling Cyren’s with strawberry lemonade and Bre’s with water. She had a Patron margarita next to it. Chili’s and their drinks of the month would always get her money. She took a generous sip and leaned back in her seat.
“What’s wrong?” Cyren asked, lightly laughing. Bre was giving her that look.
“I’m really sad that you’re leaving,” she said, in a softer tone than Cyren had ever heard her use.
She looked up from her plate. “Girl…”
“I’m serious,” Bre pressed, sitting up. “Who am I supposed to gossip with now? You’re really about to leave me in there with those boring ass people?”
Laughing, Cyren shook her head. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m not!” Bre insisted. “You know we be in there having a good time. Everybody else is so serious and just wants to work.”
Cyren smirked. “That’s what y’all are supposed to be doing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bre said, waving her off. “But really. I’m happy we became friends.”
“I am, too. You’re the little sister I never had.”
“That’s funny, ‘cause I am the youngest out of my siblings.”
Cyren could see that. Bre was very persistent, such a free spirit, and a bit rebellious at times. She got her way more often than not.
“And they have you spoiled rotten,” Cyren acknowledged, taking the last bite of her honey chipotle chicken crisper. She planned to eat the rest later.
“Of course.” Bre grinned. “Are you all packed?”
“Girl, no.” She laughed. “I don’t have a lot to pack, though. I shipped some stuff off already, and I’m donating a few things.”
“That’s nice. I know they’ll love that.”
Cyren was sure that whoever received the items would love them, too. She’d learned the art of letting go through her grief, and it showed up in every crevice of her life. All those clothes she’d been holding onto for years were not being hauled to her new place.
While she packed away the rest of her food, Bre was on her phone, watching Instagram stories. She had the volume slightly louder than it should’ve been in public, and Cyren would’ve told her to turn it down, but she didn’t. The place was already loud enough as it was.
“Girl, my cousin is in Cabo having a blast.” Bre beamed, eyes glued to her screen.
Cyren’s movements paused. She didn’t want to be that person and assume things, but something in her gut didn’t feel right. Of all the places Bre’s cousin could’ve been, she was in Cabo? Cyren found that odd.
“Yeah? A trip does sound nice,” she said, trying to keep her breathing steady.
“Girl! Look at this water.” Bre practically shoved the phone in Cyren’s face, giving her no choice but to grab it.
Cyren knew she shouldn’t have, but she did anyway.
Her heart dropped at the view. It was as if she were on FaceTime with Heavy all over again.
Whomever Bre’s cousin was, she was capturing the same magazine-worthy view he’d shown her.
Blue skies, clear waters, and that gorgeous orange tree you couldn’t find or see anywhere else but in Mexico.
Cyren kept watching despite the bile rising in her throat.
“Tish! Look at this tree. It’s so pretty!” Bre’s cousin squealed.
Had Cyren been nosey and tapped to the next story, she would’ve missed the confirmation and Heavy’s lies.
Cyren wasn’t aware, but the split second he frowned while they were on FaceTime was the exact moment Tish tried making her way over to him.
It was nothing but fate that she was seeing this right now.
She handed Bre her phone back. “That’s what’s up.”
Bre’s brows dipped. “You okay?”
“Mhm. I think I ate too much.”
“Ooh. I hate when that happens. Let me finish my drink, and we can go. I know you have a busy day.”
Cyren was grateful she didn’t press her about her sudden mood change.
She hadn’t eaten too much, but what she had indulged in was about to reappear and ruin both of their days.
Bre covered the tab, and they hugged before parting ways.
Climbing into her car, Cyren just sat there.
Heart in her throat, she cleared it, trying to mask her hurt, but logic was ruling.
She’d been lying, so why was she hurt about Heavy’s deceit?
“He could’ve just said he was going out of the country with her. He didn’t have to be sneaky about it,” Cyren mumbled.
Needing answers, she scrolled to his contact name that now had a heart next to it and initiated a FaceTime call.
She wanted to see his face when he lied because what else was there to say?
Her chest heaved as the phone rang longer than it had since he’d been gone.
The service was slightly janky there, but he’d picked up on the two calls she made.
Cyren’s palms grew sweaty as the phone rang louder than ever.
Louder than her racing heart. Her breathing became harsher with each agonizing second it kept ringing, and he didn’t answer.
Reaching forward, she turned the heat off and waited.
Complete silence followed the distinct, quick two-toned chime of the call dropping.
Without much thought, she called again. This time, the phone stopped on the second ring.
Cyren inhaled sharply, disbelief washing over her that he had actually declined her call.
Her leg bounced as her impulsive side kicked in.
Heavy had activated her crazy side and didn’t even know it.
Her thumb hovered over his name to call again, but then she stopped.
Mid-crash out, another emotion took precedence over her anger and hurt.
It was her dignity—the self-respect she deserved from herself more than from a man who could have just kept it real. She dropped the phone into her lap and leaned back against the seat.
“That’s crazy,” she whispered to herself, but there wasn’t any humor behind it.
But then she laughed for real with tears in her eyes because damn.
She was hurt, but she’d been lying too. Playing it cool, just enjoying the moment and not wanting to be anything more, so there shouldn’t have been any tears.
This was what she wanted, but why did it feel like she’d been played anyway?
Cyren leaned forward, resting her elbows on the steering wheel, pressing her lips together as she tried to gather herself before driving off. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, and she clenched her teeth as she replayed everything in her head.
“All that yapping about his feelings,” she hissed. “Fuck your feelings and you. Stupid-ass nigga.”
Cyren was seeing red as she drove home. It’d been years since she argued with a man, but she was ready to let Heavy have it today.
It was his audacity that had Cyren befuddled.
The way Heavy catered to her without hesitation, made love to her body, lined her pockets with cash, kept a smile on her face, and reminded her of what love felt like, only to move like she meant nothing to him, had her questioning if any of it had been real at all.
“This shit was all a lie,” she mumbled, cruising through a yellow light.
Cyren felt like Karlie Redd without the theatrics. “Or maybe I’m the one tripping,” she added, shaking her head like she could’ve reasoned her way out of the truth—his truths that he so badly wanted her to see.
“We’re not even together. He doesn’t owe me anything.”
And that’s what pissed Cyren off the most.
Not the trip.
Not Tish.
Not even him ignoring her call.
It was the fact that he was comfortable enough to take a trip with another woman and come back “home” to her as if he could.
As if he just knew she’d be here waiting.
Well, the joke was on him. Cyren didn’t even feel bad about not telling him she was moving anymore.
She had plans to tell him when he returned from his trip, and now he’d never know she was even gone.
Pulling into her aunt’s driveway, she grabbed her food and got out.
Her anger had fizzled some, and now she was plotting.
She’d hate for Heavy, or any man, to ever think he had one up on her like she was a fool.
He was lucky she wasn’t the type to damage someone’s property.
Giving her full access to his home, knowing he was doing some shady shit was insane, but word to Kehlani.
.. niggas would always be niggas. Gabi was right, too.
Walking into the house, Cyren headed straight to the kitchen to put her food away.
Eyeing some packages, she checked whether they were for her before grabbing them and walking down the hall to her room.
Skylar’s door was open, and Cyren couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she talked loudly on the phone.
As promised, Cyren didn’t have two words for her after the slick comment she made, and she wanted to keep it that way.
She was so deep in thought while opening the packing cubes she ordered, Cyren didn’t notice Skylar at her door until she cleared her throat.
Cyren lifted her brow, urging her to say what she wanted.
“I hate to see you leaving so soon,” Skylar voiced, eyeing her room.
Cyren scoffed and got back to work.
“Really, I am. But maybe it’s a good thing. You don’t want to get caught up in anything Heavy has going on. That street life isn’t anything nice.”
Cocking her head to the side, Cyren exhaled.
“I’m just saying. He has a bad rep out here, and I’d hate to see something happen to you.”
On any other day, Cyren would’ve defended his name, but it was fuck him right now. She wasn’t proving her loyalty to someone who didn’t deserve it or her presence.
“Okay, girl. Anything else?” Cyren finally asked, giving her the attention she was begging for.