13. Melissa Domaine
Ishould’ve known better than to stay.
After Roman told me everything about Mo, the beach, the baby, the bloodshed, my heart ached for him.
We ain’t even have sex that night.
We just laid in each other’s arms.
Me on his chest, him breathin’ all uneven, fingers drawin’ lazy circles on my back like he was usin’ my skin to anchor himself, and I let him.
For once I ain’t feel like runnin’.
I fell asleep in his arms under his dead wife’s pictures and woke up feelin’ like I’d just stepped off a cliff.
So, I did what I always do when shit start feelin’ too real.
I got the fuck on.
The next mornin’, I slipped out his bed as quiet as I could. He was knocked out, face softer than I ever seen it, all that tension gone for a second.
I stood there a minute, lookin’ at him.
He looked… human.
Not the boss, not the protector, not the crazy nigga who’d break a jaw behind me.
Just a man who lost everything once and was somehow tryna love again.
That made my chest hurt.
I grabbed my clothes, got dressed in his bathroom, and left a little note on his nightstand ‘cause I ain’t feel like hearin’ his mouth about me ghostin’ without sayin’ nothin’.
Thanks for last night. I needed it.
Then I left.
I told myself I was doin’ him a favor.
Whatever he felt for me wasn’t healthy.
And whatever I was startin’ to feel back? That shit was dangerous.
For the next week, I pulled back…for real this time.
No late-night pull-ups.
No comin’ to the club just to see him.
No layin’ up on his couch pretendin’ we was “just chillin’.”
When he texted, I answered dry.
When he called, I let it ring and hit him back hours later, if at all.
At first he pressed.
Where you at?
You good?
You mad at me?
Then… nothin’.
The last two days, my phone had been silent as hell.
No Roman… No “text me when you home.”
No “you eat?”
Part of me felt relieved.
Another part of me felt… off.
Like I’d got used to somebody lookin’ for me and now the quiet was loud as fuck.
But I told myself this was what I wanted.
He was finally gettin’ the picture.
He’d realize I wasn’t built to be nobody’s woman and we’d both move on.
Right?
“Girl, you not hearin’ me,” April said, shakin’ her head as we walked out of Longhorn Steakhouse after dinner one night. “Royce said he had to tell Roman to chill.”
I frowned. “Chill on what?”
“On you,” she said like it was obvious. “He was talkin’ to him the other day and sayin’ he know you been fallin’ back, but that don’t mean Roman need to be ridin’ past your spots every other day.”
I stopped. “My spots?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Work. Your mama’s house. The shop. He not always sayin’ nothin’, but he be around. Royce said he seen his location history and was like, ‘Bruh, you gotta relax.’”
I blinked at her. “Location history?”
She made a face. “You know how they got that stupid shared location thing for when they run moves together sometimes. He wasn’t snoopin’, but it popped up. And he ain’t say nothin’ at first, but once he realized Roman hit your side of town a few too many times to be coincidence… he said somethin’.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
“That nigga is so dramatic,” I said. “He probably just happen to be over there. It’s a whole city, April.”
She looked at me like I was slow. “Okay, Melissa.”
“No, forreal,” I said. “I know he crazy, but he ain’t on no creep shit like that. He got better shit to do than trail me like that.”
“Didn’t you just tell me he followed you from the club to your house last week?” she asked. “And walked through every room like he was SWAT?”
“That was different,” I said quickly. “He knew I was there.”
She shook her head. “Girl, you gon’ keep laughin’ this off till you catch him for yourself.”
I waved her off. “Whatever. I’ll talk to him if it get weird.”
Spoiler alert: it got weird already.
A few days later, my mama hit me talkin’ ‘bout, “They got this perfume-makin’ class over Philly, you wanna go?”
I ain’t had nothin’ else to do and I needed somethin’ to keep my mind off everything, so I said yeah.
We pulled up to this cute little spot with exposed brick and plants everywhere, women in aprons talkin’ about notes and oils and all that extra shit. My mama was hype.
“Oooh, look at this,” she said, sniffin’ some jasmine thing. “I’m ‘bout to have me a signature scent.”
“Not too much, girl,” I said, laughin’. “We not about to be payin’ rent for no perfume.”
We was halfway through our little mixes when my bladder started showin’ out.
“I’ma run to the bathroom,” I told her. “Don’t touch my stuff.”
She waved me off and kept smellin’ bottles.
The bathroom was down a small hallway, past some storage closet. The lights in there were kinda dim, soft yellow. It was empty when I walked in.
I went in the first stall, did what I had to do, washed my hands, and was fixin’ my hair in the mirror when I glanced up…
And damn near jumped out my skin.
Roman was leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, just… there.
In the ladies’ bathroom.
“Roman!” I yelled, grabbin’ my chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
He smirked like I’d just told a joke. “You scare easy.”
“Why are you in here?” I demanded. “This is the ladies’ room.”
“I see that,” he said, eyes draggin’ over me. “I was already in here when you came in. You just ain’t peep.”
I stared at him, disgust and disbelief fightin’ in my face. “So you just… standin’ in public bathrooms now?”
“I’m makin’ sure you good,” he said, like that made perfect sense. “That’s it.”
I blinked. “How the hell you even know I was here?”
He shrugged like it was nothin’. “I know your mama car. Saw it in the lot.”
My skin prickled.
“So you followed me?” I asked, my voice gettin’ sharper.
He tilted his head. “I was in the area.”
“Which area?” I shot back. “‘Cause this not around the corner from nowhere you usually at.”
He didn’t answer that.
Instead, he pushed off the wall and walked closer, slow.
“You been ignorin’ me,” he said. “Not answerin’ my calls, textin’ me back hours later if at all. I figured either somethin’ was wrong, or you was tryna do that thing you do where you pretend I don’t exist. Either way, I wanted eyes on you.”
I laughed, but it came out more like a shocked breath. “So, you popped up to a whole perfume class and posted up in the women’s bathroom?”
He shrugged again. “I knew you’d come in here eventually.”
My mouth dropped. “You hear yourself?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I hear myself fine.”
“Nigga, this is not normal,” I snapped. “You hidin’ in bathrooms, ridin’ past my people’s spots, watchin’ my movements like you the feds. You know how weird that is?”
“I’m not hidin’,” he said. “I’m observin’.”
“Boy, if you don’t—” I stopped, shakin’ my head. “No. You not about to flip words and make this sound romantic. This is stalker shit.”
He stepped closer, close enough for me to smell his cologne over the perfume oils.
“You act like I don’t know that,” he said low. “I told you before, I’m not healthy about you yet. I know it’s extra. I know it look crazy from the outside.”
“From the outside?” I repeated. “Nigga, it look crazy from the inside. You standin’ in the ladies’ bathroom.”
He smirked again, unbothered. “If another nigga was in here, you’d be grateful I showed up.”
“That’s not the point,” I snapped. “The point is, you not givin’ me a choice. You doin’ all this ‘quiet’ shit without tellin’ me, like you got the right.”
He looked dead at me. “I kept it quiet ‘cause I knew you’d react like this.”
“So you admit it,” I said. “You have been keepin’ up with me. Following me.”
He shrugged, like we was talkin’ about traffic.
“I check on you,” he said. “I know where you work, where your mama stay, your usual gas station, what days you hit Charlie Mac spot. I don’t bother you every time I see you. I just… keep track.”
My head started poundin’. “You sayin’ that like it’s normal.”
“It’s normal for me,” he said. “I always know where the important shit in my life at. Money. Family. Businesses. You just in that category now.”
I stared at him, chest tight, heart beatin’ fast…part fear, part… somethin’ else I didn’t wanna name.
“You don’t see the problem with puttin’ me in the same category as ‘assets’?” I asked.
“You not an asset,” he said. “You the whole ledger.”
I hated the way that hit.
“Roman—”
He cut me off. “Look. You can call it whatever you want. Obsession, stalkin’, crazy. Cool. But I’m not about to apologize for carin’. You move like you alone. I move like you not.”
“I am alone,” I fired back. “That’s the whole point. I don’t want no relationship. I ain’t sign up to be nobody’s obsession.”
He stepped even closer, backin’ me up a little toward the sinks.
“You keep sayin’ you don’t want a relationship,” he said, voice low and steady, “but you keep answerin’ me. You keep showin’ up at my spots. You keep leavin’ little ass notes on my nightstand like you don’t know what that do to me.”
My face heated. “That note was a thank you, nigga. Don’t do too much.”
He smirked. “You left your name with a heart next to it.”
“I always draw hearts,” I lied.
He looked amused. “Mhmm.”
We glared at each other.
The bathroom felt small as hell.
“You can’t do this,” I said, tryin’ to steady my voice. “You can’t decide I’m yours and then move around me like I don’t get a say. I don’t care what you been through. I don’t care what you lost. You not about to turn me into some project you monitor from the shadows.”
He looked at me so long I almost looked away.
Then he said, “I know this shit is unhealthy, Melissa. I’m not dumb. I see how far I’m takin’ it. But the quicker you stop fightin’ me, the quicker this can be normal.”
I blinked. “Normal?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You stop runnin’ every time it get deep, I stop feelin’ like I gotta chase you everywhere to make sure you still here. You let yourself be mine for real, I won’t have to watch you from bathrooms and parkin’ lots.”
My throat went dry.
“You really insane,” I whispered. “You know that?”
“Probably,” he said, like he’d accepted it. “But I’d rather be insane and present than sane and absent. I already know what it feel like to lose everythin’. I’m not doin’ that again if I can help it.”
We stared at each other, breathin’ hard.
Somebody jiggled the handle outside and we both went still.
“Is somebody in there?” a woman’s voice called.
Roman didn’t move.
I stepped around him, opened the door a crack. “Yeah, one sec.”
She huffed and walked off, heels clickin’ down the hall.
I turned back to him.
“This conversation not over,” I said. “But you need to get the hell outta here before somebody call security on you.”
He smirked. “Text me when you leavin’.”
I stared. “After this?”
He shrugged. “You can curse me out the whole ride home in your head. I still wanna know you made it back.”
I wanted to say no.
Wanted to tell him to lose my number, my address, my whole existence.
Instead, I rolled my eyes so hard my head hurt. “Get out, Roman.”
He finally stepped past me, hand brushin’ my waist like he couldn’t help it.
“See you outside,” he said, and walked out the ladies’ room like he belonged there.
I stared at the door after it closed.
My heart was poundin’, my palms were sweatin’, my mind was screamin’ at me that this was not okay.
And the fucked-up part was…
Under all that?
Some quiet piece of me felt weirdly… relieved he’d been there.
That was the part that scared me the most.
‘Cause if I wasn’t careful, I knew one thing for sure:
Roman wasn’t gon’ be the only one lookin’ crazy behind this shit.