37. Cherise
Chapter thirty-seven
Cherise
Two months.
That’s how long it’s been since Hawaii.
I sat on the grass of my mother's grave, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the ground.
“I’ve been going to therapy,” I said quietly.
A small breath left me, almost a laugh.
“Yeah, I know… shocking. Turns out…black people can go to therapy too.”
I shook my head, a faint smile tugging at my lips before it faded.
“They’re making me talk about things I’ve spent my whole life avoiding. Learning how to actually…express my feelings.” I made a face. “Disgusting, honestly.”
My gaze dropped to the sweater wrapped around me.
Her sweater.
The one thing I grabbed before everything got taken from me.
Before we were taken.
It used to swallow me whole. Now it fit like a glove.
Her scent was long gone, but wearing it made me feel closer to her.
“I didn’t realize how much losing you and dad changed me,” I admitted. “How much it broke me.”
My hands trembled slightly as I reached beside me, picking up the flowers I brought.
“They have me working on that.”
I leaned forward, placing them gently against her headstone.
“They’ve also got me working on my attitude.” I raised my palm. “Now, before you say anything—you didn’t raise no punk. They run up, they get done up.”
I paused.
“But…I am trying the whole peaceful approach first. Before I completely lose my shit.”
A small smile pulled at my lips.
“I met a guy. Well…we met in high school. His name is Leo.”
I swallowed.
“Total golden retriever energy, you would have loved him.”
I shook my head slightly.
“Definitely wasn’t my type…until he was.”
I paused, blinking back the burn in my eyes.
“He has this adorable dog named Moose who needed surgery on his leg.”
My gaze dropped.
Moose most likely had his surgery by now.
I sent Leo the money as soon as I got my new phone.
He responded back a quick thank you.
That was it.
The last time I heard from him.
I wondered how Moose was recovering.
How did the surgery go?
Was he okay?
I wanted to reach out. To check on both of them, because…I missed them. I missed them so much.
But reaching out would just open everything back up, when I was still trying to put myself back together.
By his silence, I’m sure Leo felt the same.
“I think…” I trailed off, bracing myself for what I was about to admit.
“I think I loved him.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“Like, really loved him. Fully. Without holding back. With my entire heart, because he made me believe that I could trust him with that.”
The realization still knocked the air out of me.
Me.
Crying over a man?
I wiped the tear from my cheek with the back of my hand.
Wild.
“I wish you were here,” I said quietly.
“To give me that motherly advice of yours. To tell me if I made the right choice.”
A beat.
“Even if I probably wouldn’t have listened.”
I laughed through my tears.
“I just…want you to be proud of me.”
I exhaled a shaky breath.
“I miss you, Mom.”
Footsteps crunched behind me.
I stiffened, then turned.
Chelsea.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she said, walking over.
She set her flowers beside mine.
“Hey, Mama,” she added, glancing down at the headstone. “It’s your favorite child.”
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Please. We both know I’m the favorite.”
Chelsea snorted. “Debatable.”
She crouched beside me.
“I also wanted to let you know…she did it.”
I stilled.
“She made sure I was safe. Loved. Protected. Brave.” Chelsea nudged me lightly. “Just like you asked her to.”
Tears came harder this time.
“You absolutely would have been so proud of her.”
She wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into a side hug.
“And we found just the person to do the same for her.”
I pulled back slightly, confused.
Chelsea smiled.
“His name is Leo. You would have loved him.”
My breath caught.
“Like… really loved him.”
That knowing look settled on her face.
“Don’t worry. I will personally make it my mission to get this one—” she pointed at me, “to get her head out of her ass and go get him back.”
I shook my head, a weak laugh slipping out.
“Chelsea...”
“I’m serious.” Her tone lowered. “Leo is the one, and you know it.”
“Chelsea, I’m not dating my ex’s brother.”
“Why not?” She shot back immediately. “The cat is already out of the bag. Derrick knows. Leo already got his ass kicked. Pretty sure that counts as penance.”
“Chelsea—”
“No.” She leaned in. “You don’t even talk to Derrick anymore. From what you told me neither does Leo. So, what exactly are you holding on to? Pride? Guilt? Or just fear?”
I looked away.
“Because from where I’m sitting,” she continued, “you’re about to let something real slip through your fingers over a technicality.”
I wiped another tear away.
“You made one mistake,” she said. “You picked the wrong twin. That doesn’t mean you have to keep picking the wrong twin for the rest of your life.”
I stared down at the flowers. I reached and traced the edge of a petal with my thumb.
“Derrick’s going to move on,” she added. “He’ll find his person. And you…”
She let the sentence hang.
“You’re going to be right here. Wondering what would’ve happened if you had just let yourself be happy.”
I picked at the sleeve of my sweater. Picking at the loose thread that didn’t even actually exist.
Avoided her death stare.
Because as much as I wanted to argue.
As much as I wanted to shut her down and make a joke to brush this off like I always did…
I couldn’t.
Because deep down…I already knew.
Leo wasn’t the complication….
He was the answer.
And that scared me a hell of a lot more than getting it wrong ever did.