15. Renza Mensah #4
Her voice was soft enough that I almost wished she had said it with more attitude. That would’ve made it easier. She stood there lookin’ at me with her pride tryna hold her face together and her eyes askin’ more than her mouth did.
I slid my hands into my pockets and looked toward the lot where my car was parked. “I’m ’bout to go home and lay my black ass down.”
Reni nodded slow, but she ain’t look away. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
She pressed her lips together, and I saw the pushback rise in her before she swallowed it. Pride stopped her from sayin’ too much, but hurt was still sittin’ right there with her. “You sure?”
I looked at her, and I let the answer sit in my face before I gave it to her. “Yeah. I can’t do that with you tonight, Reni.”
Her eyes flickered, and her fingers tightened around the purse in her hand. For a second, I thought she might say somethin’ sharp, but she just looked down, blinked a few times, and nodded like she was tryna accept the words without lettin’ ‘em embarrass her.
“Okay,” she said.
That one word carried more than it should’ve, and I hated that it had to.
I ain’t wanna hurt her again. I ain’t wanna make her feel like she was reachin’ for somebody who had already stepped back.
But I knew goin’ home with her would’ve been worse.
It would’ve been me usin’ old comfort to cover a new wound, and Reni deserved better than bein’ somebody I touched ‘cause I ain’t know what to do with myself.
“Where you parked?” I asked.
She pointed across the lot. “Over there by the light.”
“I’mma walk with you.”
She ain’t argue. She just started movin’, and I walked beside her while Mecca trailed behind us on the phone.
The lot was still busy, with cars pullin’ out, headlights flashin’, and folks still standin’ around.
Reni stayed quiet, and I let her ‘cause I ain’t wanna fill the space with words that would only make it heavier.
When we got to her car, she unlocked it but ain’t open the door right away.
She turned toward me, and for a minute, we just looked at each other. There was a whole chapter of my life in her face, from the good parts, hard parts, parts I mishandled and parts I couldn’t go back and fix no matter how clean I tried to say sorry.
I stepped closer and pulled her into a hug, and she came into it slow before her arms wrapped around my waist.
I held her right. It wasn’t nothin’ extra, but just a real hug for somebody who had mattered to me before everything got too tangled.
Reni’s cheek rested against my chest for a few seconds, and I felt her breathe in before she pulled back. Her eyes shined a lil’ under the parkin’ lot lights, but she kept herself together.
“Take care of yourself, Renza,” she said.
I nodded. “You too.”
She opened her car door, then paused and looked back at me.
“Bye, Reni,” I said.
I meant it, and I think she knew I did.
She got in the car, and I waited until Mecca climbed into the passenger seat before I stepped back.
Reni started the engine, and after a few seconds, she pulled out of the space and drove toward the exit.
I watched her taillights move through the lot until they blended into the rest of the cars leavin’ the club.
Then I turned and walked to my own whip.
Blaq was by his car with my other potna, talkin’ about after-hours and food, but I already knew I was done. He looked at me when I came up, and whatever he saw on my face made him skip the joke he probably had loaded.
“You slidin’ with us?” he asked.
“Nah,” I said, pullin’ my keys from my pocket. “I’m goin’ home.”
He nodded like he understood enough. “Bet. Hit me when you make it.”
“I got you.”
I got in my car, shut the door, and sat here for a second before I started it.
The club was still emptyin’ out around me, and the same life I used to chase was spillin’ across the parkin’ lot in heels, chains, loud voices and drunk laughs.
I watched it through the windshield and felt no pull to go back inside, no itch to follow nobody to an after-hours spot or no need to turn the night into somethin’ it ain’t have to be.
Tonight was the last night for a while…
I started the car, lit the blunt I had been carryin’ around all night, and pulled out of the lot with the window cracked.
Smoke filled the car while Trill-Land stretched ahead of me, lit up and alive like it always was.
I drove through it with one hand on the wheel and my mind quieter than it had been when the night first started.
I ain’t know what tomorrow was gon’ look like, and I ain’t have no clean answer for the mess sittin’ in me, but I knew one thing for sure…
The section, the bottles, the women and the noise wasn’t hittin’ the same no more.
I had outgrown somethin’ tonight, or maybe I had finally stopped lyin’ about already outgrowin’ it.
Either way, I kept drivin’ toward home with the blunt burnin’ between my fingers and the street lights movin’ past my window, knowin’ I ain’t need to keep searchin’ for myself in places that only knew the old version of me.