4. Novella “Ella” Hart
NOVELLA “ELLA” HART
Rain tapped steadily against the kitchen windows while old-school R&B played from the speaker on the counter.
A rainy summer night gave me the perfect excuse to spend the evening tucked beneath Kash.
I stood at the stove stirring the cream sauce for the Cajun pasta while the chicken finished in the oven. I had already changed into a fitted tank top and shorts, tied my hair up, and poured myself a glass of wine.
I was tasting the pasta sauce when Kash entered the kitchen with his phone in one hand and his keys in the other.
My shoulders instantly sank with disappointment. “Where are you going?”
“I have to handle something.”
I pouted. “Right now?”
“Yeah. It’s urgent.”
He always used the word “urgent” when he had business in the streets.
I wasn’t naive, and Kash had never insulted my intelligence by pretending his money came only from legitimate business.
Still, he had created a firm line between our relationship and whatever happened outside our home.
He didn’t conduct business around me. He didn’t discuss names, problems, or money.
He got a call, and he stepped away. Situations happened, and he handled them without bringing the conflict back to our door.
Most of the time, I appreciated that. Lately, it felt like he was hiding more than usual.
“Dinner is almost ready, though,” I said, deepening my pout. “You told me you were staying in tonight.”
“I was.” He walked toward me and placed one hand on my waist. “I’ll be back within an hour.”
I looked at his keys instead of his face.
Kash lowered his head until I had no choice but to look at him. “Stop pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You are.”
I stared at him, and he smiled, which only annoyed me more because he knew exactly how to soften me when I wanted to stay mad.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised.
He kissed me before I could argue again. I tried to maintain my attitude, but his hand slid around my waist, and he kissed me.
When he pulled away, he reminded me. “An hour.”
I narrowed my eyes and pressed, “An hour.”
He kissed my forehead, released me, and left the kitchen.
My phone began ringing on the counter as I heard the front door open.
I looked over and saw my sister’s name on the screen.
I answered while lowering the heat beneath the sauce. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Kash left.”
Nia was quiet for half a second before pressing for more. “Okaaay?”
“We were supposed to spend the night together.”
“You guys literally live together.”
“That does not mean we spend time together.”
Nia sucked her teeth while giggling at my dramatics. “Ella, stop being a brat. Kash gives you everything you want. If that man said he would be right back, he will be right back.”
I picked up my wine and carried it to the island. “You always take his side.”
“Because you are usually wrong.”
“That is not true.”
“It is very true. He bought you that ridiculous refrigerator because you wanted the screen on the door.”
“It is not ridiculous. It keeps track of the groceries.”
“You have eyes. You can look inside.”
I laughed despite myself. “You’re a hater.”
Kash treated me well. He paid attention, remembered what I liked, and solved problems before I finished explaining them. He had never made me feel like I had to compete for his time or wonder whether he wanted me in his life.
“I know he’ll come back,” I said. “I was just looking forward to tonight.”
“Then enjoy your wine until he gets back.”
I glanced toward the front door. “I think we are finally getting close to the life I have always wanted.”
Nia’s tone softened with intrigue. “Meaning?”
“He’s been talking about marriage.”
“Whaaaat?” she playfully sang.
“He has also been showing me houses.”
“Ella.”
“And he asked how many children I want.”
My sister screamed loud enough for me to pull the phone away from my ear. “This man is talking about marriage, houses, and babies, and you are complaining because he stepped out for an hour?”
I cringed, feeling embarrassed. “I know I sound silly.”
But lately, Kash had been distracted. His phone stayed close to him. Calls pulled him from rooms more often, and sometimes I caught him staring into space as if he were working through a problem he couldn’t tell me about.
He still kissed me before leaving. He still came home every night. He still discussed our future as if he could already see it. I simply wasn’t certain what stood between us and that future.
“Kash has always kept the street part of his life away from me,” I said. “I used to think that was enough.”
“And now?”
“Now I wonder if keeping it separate means there is a part of him I will never really know.”
Nia sighed. “Do you think he is doing something to hurt you?”
“No.”
That answer came easily. Kash might have kept secrets, but I had never believed another woman was one of them.
Kash and I had been together for two years, and he had treated me differently from every man before him from the first day.
At twenty-five, I had already wasted enough time in messy, toxic relationships.
Kash had never brought any of that into my life.
He came correct from the beginning. He was respectful, loyal, consistent, and never made me question where I stood with him.
That was why I had been waiting for the day he finally proposed.
I wanted nothing more than to become that man’s wife, build a home with him, and have his babies.
“Then let that man handle what he needs to handle,” my sister scolded. “He has been taking care of you and planning a future with you. Relax.”
I sighed heavily into the phone. “You’re right.”
I took Nia’s advice to heart. She was older than me, but she had also been like a mother to me.
Our father used to beat the shit out of us, and our mother was so weak that she let him.
We never witnessed him taking his anger out on her the way he would do us.
As Nia and I got older, we realized that she let him get away with it because it kept him from treating her the same way.
Once we were older and out of that house, we disassociated from them both.
Now, I rarely spoke to my mother, and my father would be in a casket before I spoke to or saw him again.
Just then, my text notification dinged. I pulled the phone from my ear and saw the notification was from Kash. I opened it and read, as Nia continued to remind me to chill out before I pushed my man away.
I realized after I pulled off that I didn’t tell you I love you.
I do, Ella. More than I probably say enough.
Thank you for being such a good woman to me, for loving me the way you do, and for making home feel like somewhere I actually want to be.
I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you, building with you, growing with you, and giving you every reason to never regret choosing me. I love you, baby.
My eyes glazed over as I stared at the message. I was closer than I had ever been to the stable life I wanted. I only wished the man promising it to me would stop leaving with secrets.
My phone ringing snatched me out of my sleep. My eyes snapped open, confused by the bright lights filling the living room. The television was still on. Rain still tapped against the windows, softer now than it had been earlier, and my neck hurt from sleeping crooked against the arm of the couch.
For a few seconds, I didn’t understand why I was there. Then I saw the Patrón bottle on the floor beside an empty cup. Then I remembered that Kash had left, promising he would be back within an hour. One hour had turned into two. Then three.
I had called him so many times that I had stopped counting.
Every call went unanswered. That was what had scared me.
Kash always answered my calls. It didn’t matter where he was, who he was with, or what kind of business he was handling.
If I called, he picked up. If he couldn’t talk, he sent a text telling me he was okay.
That night, there had been nothing.
I had poured one drink to calm down. Then another because the first one didn’t work. At some point, I must have brought the entire bottle into the living room and drank myself to sleep.
I groaned, cringing as the ringing phone made the pain in my head worse.
I snatched up the phone from the coffee table without checking the screen. “Kash?”
There was a brief pause.
“No, ma’am.”
The unfamiliar male voice made me sit up. “Who is this?”
“I’m calling from Northwestern Memorial Hospital.”
My mind struggled to catch up.
“The hospital? Why are you calling me?”
“My name is Officer Grant. I’m with the Chicago Police Department.”
I stood too quickly. The room tilted, and I grabbed the back of the couch.
“What happened?”
“Who am I speaking with?”
“You called me!” I snapped.
“Ma’am, your number called the victim’s phone—”
“Victim?”
“Multiple times tonight. Your number is simply saved as wifey. That’s why I asked who I was speaking with as a courtesy.”
“My name is Ella. Where is Kash?”
“Ma’am, Mr. Collins was found inside his vehicle a few hours ago.”
Found. The word didn’t make sense.
“Is he hurt?”
“Mr. Collins was pronounced dead at the scene.”
The room stopped existing. The couch disappeared. The lights blurred.
“No.”
“I’m very sorry.”
“No, you have the wrong person.”
“We confirmed his identification.”
“Kash said he would be right back.” The words came out before I understood why I was saying them.
“Ma’am?” The officer continued speaking, but I couldn’t follow the words. He mentioned the car, the hospital, and someone needing to identify the body.
Kash was supposed to walk through the front door. He was supposed to pull me into his lap until I stopped being mad. He was supposed to marry me. He was supposed to give me babies.
“Ella?” the officer said.
My knees weakened.
I lowered myself onto the couch, but I couldn’t feel it beneath me.
“Ella, are you still there?”
I stared at the front door, part of me still expected it to open and Kash to walk through it.
“Hello?”
The phone slipped from my hand.
The officer’s voice continued from somewhere near the floor. “Ma’am? Hello?”
I tried to breathe but couldn’t. I tried to stand but my legs failed me.
Then everything went black.