1. Sha’nelle Harper #2
I knew I could’ve. Nobody had put a gun to my head, and I wasn’t about to lie to myself and pretend I had no choice. I had a choice. I just couldn’t bring myself to humiliate a man who had never humiliated me.
Now I was sittin’ here alone with the answer.
I turned my hand from side to side and watched the diamond move under the light, but eventually my vision started blurrin’.
All I could see was Renza…
I remembered that damn Airbnb. I remembered layin’ in bed with him and wakin’ up to his kisses.
I remembered laughin’ with him until my stomach hurt, goin’ out with him and watchin’ bitches notice him everywhere we went ‘cause Renza was fine as hell and he knew it. I remembered the tattoos coverin’ his arms, the waves in his head and that thick beard I was always touchin’ when he was close enough for me to reach it.
I remembered the way he looked at me…
That was what finally made the first tear fall.
Renza could look at me sometimes and make everybody else in the room feel like furniture.
There wasn’t nothin’ halfway about that nigga.
If he was mad, I felt it. If he wanted me, I felt that too.
When he loved on me, there wasn’t never no question about whether his mind was somewhere else ‘cause Renza gave me all of him in a way that used to scare the hell out of me.
Another tear rolled down my cheek, then another one followed it…
I wiped ‘em away, but more came before I could get myself together.
“What the fuck am I doin’?” I whispered while starin’ down at my hand.
My shoulders started shakin’ as the question settled inside me.
I had spent months tellin’ myself that peace was what I needed. Couture gave me that. He gave me a love that made sense on paper and felt good in real life too, but somehow my heart was still cryin’ over a nigga who had brought more confusion into my life than anybody I had ever dealt with.
I loved Couture, but somethin’ in me belonged to Renza in a way I had been too scared to admit ‘cause admittin’ that shit meant I had to deal with everything that came attached to lovin’ him.
Renza was difficult. He was possessive as hell, stubborn and too used to gettin’ his damn way.
That nigga could make me want to scream one minute and have me curled into his chest the next.
We had argued over petty shit that shouldn’t have lasted ten minutes, and then both of us would drag it out ‘cause neither one knew how to shut the hell up.
Still, even the memories of our arguments hurt now ‘cause I missed havin’ him there to argue with. I missed his voice.
I missed him walkin’ into a room and immediately changin’ how I felt inside it.
I missed rubbin’ his beard while he laid against me.
I missed hearin’ him talk shit. I missed the way he would pull me closer in bed when I tried to move away from him, then act like I was the one botherin’ him when I finally settled against his body.
I missed lovin’ him… and truth broke somethin’ open in me.
I covered my mouth with my hand while thick tears rolled down my face. I had spent almost three months refusin’ to call what I felt love. I called the shit attachment, history and me bein’ used to Renza and needin’ time to get him out my system.
None of that shit worked…
Now I had another nigga’s engagement ring on my finger, and my heart was reachin’ across an ocean for Renza so hard that I could damn near feel him. I grabbed my phone before I could talk myself out of it.
My fingers shook while I went into my settings and found the list of numbers I had blocked. Renza’s number was still there, and just seein’ it, made another tear slide down my face.
For a few seconds, I stared at it, and thought about Couture. Then I thought about spendin’ the rest of my life wonderin’ what would’ve happened if I stopped bein’ scared long enough to tell Renza the truth. I swallowed hard and unblocked him.
My heart started beatin’ so hard that I could feel it against my chest when my thumb hovered over the call button while every sensible thought in my head told me to put the phone down.
I pressed it anyway and brought the phone to my ear while my heart
Was beatin’ fast as fuck. It rang once, then twice, and when the third ring came with no answer, I swallowed hard and kept waitin’, hopin’ Renza would pick up before the call went to voicemail.
Every second that passed made my stomach hurt worse. I kept expectin’ to hear his voice come through the phone with that irritated lil’ “Wussup?” he always gave me when he wanted to act like hearin’ from me ain’t do nothin’ to him. Instead, the call went unanswered.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen.
Renza always answered me…
Even when we was mad at each other, that nigga answered eventually. I sat here tryna convince myself he was busy, sleep or somewhere his phone wasn’t near him.
I opened our messages before I could lose my nerve.
Me: Can you call me when you get a chance?
I read it three times before sendin’ it. Then I waited. At first, I kept my phone in my hand. Every time the screen went dark, I touched it again just to make sure I ain’t miss shit. After ten minutes, I set it in my lap and told myself to go in the damn house. But I couldn’t move.
Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. By the time thirty minutes went by, I was still sittin’ in the driveway with dried tears on my face and Couture’s ring on my finger while my phone stayed silent in my lap.
I picked my phone up again and checked it even though I knew damn well I would’ve heard it if Renza called. I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes while another tear slipped out.
“Call me,” I whispered.
I ain’t even know what I was gon’ say if he did. Maybe that was a lie ‘cause somewhere inside me, I knew exactly what I was gon’ do.
If Renza called me back and told me he still wanted me, I was goin’.
The thought came into my head so clear that I opened my eyes. I looked at the house, then down at the ring on my finger.
I would give Couture his ring back. I would tell him the truth even if he hated me after I finished. I would apologize to Ms. Emoree and everybody else later ‘cause I couldn’t marry her son knowin’ I was capable of leavin’ him the second another man called my phone.
I wasn’t packin’ no clothes, or makin’ no damn list. I wasn’t spendin’ another week thinkin’ about what made the most sense. If Renza called and told me to come to Trill-Land, I was gettin’ my ass on the first thing that could take me there.
That realization should’ve made me feel worse about Couture, but instead it finally made me understand how unfair I had already been to him.
Couture deserved a woman who could sit beside him while he talked about houses, weddin’s and babies without secretly hopin’ another nigga would call her phone.
And Renza…
I covered my face with both hands as another wave of tears came. The longer he went without answerin’ me, the more somethin’ ugly started growin’ in my stomach.
I pressed my lips together while tears filled my eyes again. I wanted to call one more time, but I stopped myself ‘cause if Renza was purposely not answerin’ me, blowin’ his phone up wasn’t gon’ change whatever made him decide he was done.
I stared at his number on my screen while my thumb rested near the call button.
“Please,” I whispered as another tear rolled down my face. “Just call me back.”
For the first time since I walked away from Renza, I wasn’t askin’ Renza to chase me. I wasn’t askin’ him to prove how much he loved me or fight harder than I did.
I was finally ready to stop runnin’, and all I needed was for him to reach back.