3. Royce Blake
Iwas sitting in my living room with my phone pressed to my ear, half listening to Roman and half staring off at nothing.
“So how the trip going?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
Roman let out a low breath on the other end. “It’s cool. Quiet. I needed that.”
“That’s good. I figured getting away from the city for a little while would help clear your head.”
“Yeah,” he said, but his tone told me his mind was somewhere else.
I frowned. “What’s up with you?”
He was quiet for a second before he said, “Melissa out here.”
I sat up straighter. “Melissa?”
“Yeah.”
“Like Melissa-Melissa?”
That made him chuckle a little. “Nigga, how many Melissas you think I’m talking about?”
“I’m just making sure I heard you right.” I rubbed my jaw. “She on vacation too?”
“Yeah. She staying in the villa across from mine.”
I let out a laugh before I could stop it. “Ain’t that about some shit.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You talk to her?”
“Yeah. We ran into each other yesterday. Had a drink.”
I leaned back again and shook my head. “Roman Blake on vacation running into the same woman he can’t stop thinking about. That don’t sound like coincidence to me.”
“Man, shut the fuck up.”
I laughed. “Nah, I’m serious. What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he said too fast.
That made my brow raise. “Mhmm.”
“She just out here trying to clear her head, same as me. We talked a little. That’s it.”
I could hear it in his voice, though. That edge. That interest. Roman was trying to sound casual, but I knew my brother too well.
“You like her,” I said plainly.
He was quiet.
Then, “I ain’t say all that.”
“You ain’t gotta say it. I got ears.”
Roman sighed on the other end, and for a second neither of us said nothing.
Truth was, hearing that little shift in him did something to me. It had been a long time since I heard anything in my brother’s voice that sounded like curiosity instead of grief. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, that girl was doing something to him.
“You being careful?” I asked after a minute.
Roman let out a dry chuckle. “Why the fuck everybody keep asking me that?”
“Because I know you,” I told him. “And because I know what it look like when you start getting attached.”
“I’m good.”
I wanted to believe him, but Roman had always loved hard. Too hard sometimes. And after everything that happened with Mo, I knew whatever feelings he let in now was gone come with a whole lot tied to it.
Before I could say anything else, April walked into the living room looking good as hell in one of them Walmart Moo-moo’s. I swear my baby was bad in anything she put on her thick ass. I looked at her and smiled, but the look on her face let me know she had an attitude.
She folded her arms and leaned against the wall.
I pointed toward her and sighed. “Aight, bro, I’m about to call you back.”
Roman laughed low. “Yeah, I can tell by your face your evening just changed.”
“Man, fuck you.”
He laughed again. “Call me later.”
“I got you.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone on the couch cushion beside me.
April didn’t move.
“What?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. What is up with you?”
I already knew where this was going, and honestly, I wasn’t in the mood. But April wasn’t one of them women you could brush off and expect it to just go away.
“Ain’t nothing up with me.”
She pushed off the wall and came closer. “Yes, it is. You been distant for days now. Barely talking. Barely touching me. You keep looking like your mind somewhere else, and every time I ask you about it, you give me some weak-ass answer.”
I let out a slow breath and stood up from the couch. “April, I said I’m good.”
“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “And I’m getting tired of you acting like I’m too stupid to see it.”
That hit me a little because one thing about April, she paid attention. Too much sometimes.
I dragged a hand over my face. “It ain’t even like that.”
“Then what is it like?” she asked, throwing her hands up. “Because we’re supposed to be getting married, Royce, and instead of feeling like we moving forward, I feel like you pulling away from me.”
My jaw tightened.
That wasn’t what I was doing.
At least I don’t think it was.
But hearing her say it like that made me feel like shit, because I knew I had been off. I knew I had been moving funny. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her why.
How the fuck do you tell the woman you love that the closer the wedding gets, the more scared you are?
Not scared of her.
Not scared of loving her.
Scared of marriage.
Scared of what comes after the vows.
Scared of failing.
Scared of waking up one day and being the kind of man she regrets choosing.
Scared because I seen what love could look like at its best through Roman and Mo, and I also seen what happens when life decides to snatch that shit away.
Roman was strong, but I watched that pain hollow him the fuck out.
And deep down, I knew I wasn’t built like him.
I didn’t think I could survive that kind of loss.
I didn’t think I was that strong.
April stepped closer and touched my arm, making me look down at her.
“Baby, is you okay?” she asked, softer this time.
And right there was my chance to tell her the truth.
But I looked in her eyes, saw all that love sitting there, and I lied.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’m good.”
She searched my face like she was trying to see past my words. “You sure?”
I nodded and pulled her closer to me. “I’m sure. You ain’t got nothing to worry about. All I want is you. All I care about is you.”
That part wasn’t a lie.
Not even a little bit.
I meant every word of it.
April relaxed some in my arms, but I could still feel the hesitation in her body. Like she wanted to believe me, but something in her knew I wasn’t giving her all of it.
Still, she let it go.
For the moment.
“You promise?” she asked.
I kissed her forehead. “I promise.”
That seemed to settle her enough.
Later that night, we ate dinner together at the table, talking about wedding details and little random shit that didn’t matter much. I did my best to be present. To smile. To act normal. And for the most part, I think I pulled it off.
But even laying in bed next to her that night, with April curled into my side and breathing soft against my chest, sleep still took forever to come.
Because my mind would not shut the fuck up.
The next day, I found myself pulling up to Nana Hope’s house.
If there was one person who could always read through my bullshit, it was her.
Nana Hope had raised me and Roman when life made it clear our parents wasn’t fit to do it.
She was the kind of woman who carried herself like she knew exactly who she was and didn’t need validation from nobody.
Strong. Loving. Sharp as hell. The kind of woman who could hug you and humble you in the same breath.
I got out the car and made my way up to the porch. Before I could even knock, the door swung open.
“There my grandson go,” she said, smiling like she already knew it was me.
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “How you know it was me?”
She waved me off and turned back toward the house. “Boy, because don’t nobody stomp up my steps like they mad at the world but one of my grandsons.”
That made me laugh for real.
I followed her inside and took a seat at the kitchen table while she finished up with whatever she had cooking on the stove. The house smelled like home. Like peace. Like being little again and not having to carry so much on my back.
“You want something to eat?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m good.”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “You come all the way over here with them heavy eyes and that tight face, and I’m supposed to believe you good?”
I blew out a breath. “You always start this early?”
“I’m old, not blind.” She turned the stove off and came to sit across from me. “Now what’s going on?”
I looked down at my hands for a second, rubbing my palms together.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just been in my head.”
“About April?”
I nodded slowly. “About the wedding. About all of it.”
Nana Hope didn’t rush me. She just sat there and waited, the way she always did when she knew something real was coming.
“I love her,” I said. “That ain’t the issue. I know I love her.”
“So what is the issue?”
I swallowed hard before answering. “What if I fuck this up?”
Her expression softened, but she didn’t jump in right away.
“What if I’m not built for this husband shit the way I think I am?” I went on. “What if I let her down? What if I turn into the kind of man she ends up regretting?”
Nana Hope folded her hands on the table. “And where you think all that fear coming from?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Probably from every damn example I had growing up.”
That earned me a small nod.
Our parents had left enough damage behind for both me and Roman. Whether it was addiction, selfishness, or just not knowing how to love right, they made family feel like something fragile. Something that could break easy.
Then there was Roman and Mo.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Watching Roman go through what he went through ain’t help either.”
Nana Hope’s eyes softened even more.
“That man loved his wife with everything in him,” I said. “And when she died… it was like watching somebody lose half of themself in real time. Roman strong as hell, Nana. Stronger than me. I don’t think I could survive no shit like that.”
Nana Hope sat back in her chair and looked at me for a long moment before she spoke.
“Baby, being scared to lose love and being scared to love are not the same thing, but they can have you making the same mistakes.”
I stayed quiet.
She kept going.
“You looking at marriage like it’s a promise that nothing bad will ever happen. It’s not. Marriage is saying even if life gets ugly, I’m still choosing you. Fear don’t mean you ain’t ready. It mean what you got matters.”
I looked down at the table, letting that sink in.
She reached across and put her hand over mine.
“You do not honor love by running from it, Royce. And you do not protect yourself from heartbreak by refusing joy. All you do is cheat yourself out of something good before it even has a chance to grow.”
Damn.
Only Nana Hope could put words together like that and make them land right in the middle of your chest.
“I just don’t want to hurt her,” I said quietly.
“Then don’t lie to her,” she said just as quiet. “That’s where hurt starts half the time. Not with betrayal. With silence. With making somebody stand outside your heart guessing what’s going on in there.”
That one hit harder than I wanted it to.
Because that was exactly what I had been doing.
After a minute, Nana Hope squeezed my hand and let it go.
“How your brother doing?” she asked. “I know your sister-in-law’s anniversary coming up. Roman don’t say much, but I know this time of year sit heavy on him.”
I nodded. “He took a trip. Trying to get away for a little while.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” I paused, then smirked a little. “Funny thing is, Melissa ended up out there too.”
Nana Hope’s brow lifted. “Melissa?”
“Yeah. The same one from the club. The one I told you about.”
Now that got a full smile out of her.
“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “look at God working when ain’t nobody ask Him to.”
I laughed. “Nana.”
She shrugged. “What? That man done been drowning in grief long enough. Maybe the Lord figured it was time to put something soft in his path.”
I shook my head, still laughing a little, but deep down I knew what she meant.
Roman deserved something soft.
Something real.
I just hoped if Melissa was about to be that for him, he didn’t scare her off before she got close enough to matter.