2. Waiting
WAITING
That was eight hours ago.
Now she was alone in his king-sized bed, wearing one of his oversized shirts that smelled like his cologne, wondering where the fuck he was.
Again.
Soreya reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up her face in the dark room. Four missed calls. All from her to him. The texts were worse:
Soreya (11:47 PM): You still at the club?
Soreya (12:23 AM): Reign I'm tired of this shit fr
Soreya (1:15 AM): You could at least answer me
Soreya (1:58 AM): Ight cool
All of them marked "Read" but not answered.
She scrolled to Instagram out of habit—the same habit that always hurt her—and there it was.
Posted twenty minutes ago. A video of After Dark's main floor, bottles popping, sparklers going off, the crowd hyped.
She could see him in the background, leaned against the bar in that black Amiri shirt she'd told him looked good on him last week.
Golds flashing when he smiled at somebody off-camera.
He looked fine. Looked happy. Looked like a man who wasn't thinking about the woman waiting for him at home.
Soreya's chest tightened. Six years of this. Six years of waiting, wondering, making excuses for him.
Her phone buzzed. Vesper.
Vesper (3:19 AM): girl you still up?
Soreya: yeah
Vesper: he still ain't home?
Soreya: nope
Vesper: Soreya... you deserve better than this
Soreya: I know. go to sleep
She was about to lock her phone when another notification popped up—a news alert from NBC12.
brEAKING: Second woman reported missing after night out in Shockoe Bottom. Family says she was last seen at After Dark nightclub.
Soreya's stomach dropped.
She clicked the alert, her heart racing. The article was brief—Imani Brooks, 23, hadn't come home after a night out with friends on Tuesday. Her car was still in the After Dark parking lot. Security footage showed her leaving the club alone around 2 AM, but after that, nothing.
The second woman.
Soreya scrolled through her phone, searching. It took less than a minute to find the first story from two weeks ago. Kendra Williams, 25. Last seen at After Dark. Never made it home.
Both women. Both from Reign's club.
Her hands started shaking.
She thought about all the nights Reign came home late, smelling like liquor and perfume and something else she could never quite place. Thought about the way he disappeared for hours, the way he never had a real explanation. The way he always, always had an excuse.
I was handling business.
What kind of business?
Soreya's mind raced. She knew he was cheating—had to be. But what if it was worse than that? What if the women he was with weren't just side chicks? What if they were?—
No. That was crazy. Reign was a lot of things, but he wasn't?—
Her phone buzzed again.
Reign (3:24 AM): I'm sorry. I'm coming home.
Soreya stared at the message. Three words. Not an explanation. Not an excuse.
She looked back at the news article. At Imani Brooks' smiling face in the photo. At the words "last seen at After Dark."
When Reign came home tonight, she wasn't going to ask him about cheating.
She was going to ask him about the missing women.
And she was terrified of what his answer might be.