Chapter 23
Solé Gardens
One week later…
It had been almost two weeks since me and Renza talked, and I still couldn’t figure out how to sit with that shit.
At first, I kept tellin’ myself it was just another one of our moments, another time where we needed space before we found our way back to each other like we always did.
Me and him had been up and down for a minute, makin’ up, breakin’ up, lovin’ each other hard, then turnin’ around and gettin’ right back in our feelings over some shit that probably could’ve been handled different if we just slowed down and listened.
But this time felt longer, and it felt quieter.
The worst part about it was that I couldn’t even be mad at nobody but myself, because I was the one who stood there and took my key back from him like I was really ready to be done.
I remember how sure I felt in that moment, like I really meant that shit when I sat there and took my key back from him, because I was tired for real and I wasn’t second guessin’ anything about it.
I was fed up with the back and forth, fed up with feelin’ like I had to adjust myself just to make everything smooth and in my head, I had already made it up that I was done and I could stand on that without lookin’ back.
I had my own family, my own way of doin’ things and I didn’t feel like I was wrong for none of it, so when I walked away from Renza, I carried myself as if I meant that shit all the way through. I wasn’t about to be one of them women that kept goin’ back just because it felt good.
And for a little minute… I believed it.
But as the days kept passin’ and that silence stretched out longer than I expected, I started realizin’ that bein’ done and actually feelin’ okay with it wasn’t the same thing.
It got quiet in a way I wasn’t used to, and I don’t just mean the phone not ringin’.
I mean everything that came with Renza not bein’ there no more.
I didn’t have nobody tellin’ me to “come here” every time I called myself havin’ an attitude. I didn’t have nobody pullin’ me close when I didn’t even ask for it. Renza wasn’t rubbin’ on my feet at the end of the night when I was tired and didn’t feel like doin’ nothin’ but layin’ there.
Even the small shit started feelin’ big, like him standin’ in my closet pickin’ out what he wanted to see me in, or the way he used to stay on me just because he could, as if lovin’ on me was somethin’ he never got tired of.
As much as I tried to act like I was good without none of that shit, I had to sit with the truth that it felt empty now.
It was like somethin’ was missin’ that I couldn’t replace no matter how busy I kept myself or how much I told myself I made the right decision.
I hated to admitted it, but I thought Renza would’ve came back.
I thought he would’ve called, or texted, or pulled up on me with that look on his face like he wasn’t lettin’ me go that easy. That’s what he always did, and I guess somewhere deep down I got used to that, so now that he wasn’t doin’ it, I didn’t even know how to take it.
I tried to move on with my days like it didn’t bother me, like I wasn’t thinkin’ about him every time my phone lit up or every time I posted somethin’ and caught myself checkin’ who viewed it.
I’d scroll through the names slow, actin’ like I wasn’t lookin’ for his, but I was, and every time I didn’t see it, it hit me a little harder than I wanted it to.
The shop been busy, though, and I had been keepin’ it that way on purpose.
From the moment I opened up, I kept myself busy, movin’ around the shop instead of standin’ behind a chair like I used to.
I didn’t really do hair like that no more, but I sold bundles and wigs, as well as other products.
My focus stayed on the business itself, makin’ sure everything was stocked, organized, and runnin’ the way it was supposed to.
I moved from shelf to shelf, checkin’ inventory, countin’ bottles, and makin’ notes on what needed to be ordered again, my hands stayin’ busy while my mind tried not to drift too far.
The smell of shampoos, conditioners, and oils filled the space, mixin’ in with the sound of blow dryers and conversations from the girls workin’ their clients.
Every now and then, one of them would call me over to look at somethin’, askin’ my opinion or just talkin’ while they worked, and I’d stand there for a minute, noddin’, givin’ input, or crackin’ a light smile when they said somethin’ funny.
It felt normal in those moments, like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.
I made my rounds through the shop, checkin’ on everybody, makin’ sure nobody needed somethin’ and keepin’ things flowin’ without really havin’ to say too much.
On the outside, I looked like I was in my zone, focused on my business and mindin’ what paid me.
And for a little while, that was enough to keep my head straight.
But the second I slowed down or found myself standin’ still too long, my thoughts would start driftin’ right back to Renza, and no matter how much I tried to shake it off, that quiet feelin’ would creep back in like it never really left.
The hookah lounge been the same way. Night after night, it was full with sections packed and smoke floatin’ through the air while people drink, laugh, and vibed like they didn’t got a care in the world.
I move through, checkin’ on everything, makin’ sure the energy was right and my people was good, and on the outside, it probably look like I had it all together.
But the truth was, once I left from there and got back home, all that noise faded out, and I was left sittin’ in a quiet space that didn’t feel as peaceful as it used to.
Sometimes I would just walk in, drop my bag, kick my shoes off and sit on the edge of my bed for a minute before I laid down.
I always found myself starin’ up at the ceiling, tryin’ to figure out where shit really went wrong.
I would think about the yacht, how everything went left with Pluto and how it turned into somethin’ bigger than what it needed to be.
I still felt like I had a right to feel how I felt.
But at the same time, I could admit that maybe I should’ve handled it different, especially knowin’ she was pregnant.
That part had been sittin’ on me heavy, even if I didn’t say it out loud to nobody.
I just wished Renza would’ve tried to understand me instead of fallin’ back like I didn’t matter enough to fix it. That was the part that hurt the most.
That mornin’, I headed to the funeral home early, already knowin’ I wanted to take my time and not rush while I was there. I had packed my bag the night before, makin’ sure everything I needed was already set, from my tools to my flat irons and the products I trusted to get the job done right.
By the time I pulled up, everything was quiet the way it always was.
Once I walked in, I spoke to the woman at the front, signed in, and made my way back without sayin’ too much.
The deceased woman was already laid out when I got to her. She was still and quiet in a way that made you stop for a second, even if you had been here more than once. She was beautiful, though. She didn’t need much, and her hair was long, thick, and soft when I ran my fingers through it.
I didn’t ask how she passed because I just wasn’t in the headspace for it. Sometimes it was easier to just focus on what I was here for instead of lettin’ details sit on me.
I set my bag down and got to work, movin’ slow and careful while I treated her with the same care I gave anybody who trusted me with their hair.
I sectioned it out, combed through it gentle so I wouldn’t cause no breakage, and then I started pressin’ it, runnin’ the flat iron from root to end while I watched it fall smooth and straight.
I took my time with her, makin’ sure every section laid right and looked like somethin’ she would’ve chosen for herself because that part always mattered to me.
When I was done, I stepped back and looked at her for a second, takin’ in how peaceful she looked with everything in place. I reached out and fixed a small piece of hair near her temple, then rested my hand over hers, lettin’ my thumb brush against her skin.
I closed my eyes and bowed my head, whisperin’ a prayer low under my breath.
“God, cover her… give her peace, give her rest, and hold her family close.”
I let that sit for a second, then leaned in just a little.
“Sleep well, beautiful,” I murmured.
After that, I packed my things up and walked out the same way I came in; quiet and slow.
By the time I got back to my car, that weight had already settled in me. It was that same heaviness I felt every time I left here.
I sat here for a minute before I even started the engine, leanin’ back in my seat while I closed my eyes.
I took a deep breath in, holdin’ it for a second, then I let it out slow, tryin’ to release everything I had just carried with me.
Between that… and everything goin’ on with Renza… I felt drained.
All I wanted to do was go home, climb in my bed, and just lay there for a while, hopin’ that maybe, just for a little bit, my mind would finally give me a break.
When I finally made it home, the first thing I did was close the door behind me and lean against it for a second, lettin’ the silence of my house settle around me.
The drive from the funeral home had been quiet, but it wasn’t peaceful, and even now, standin’ here in my own space, I still felt that same heaviness sittin’ in me.
I pushed myself off the door and slipped out of my shoes right at the entrance, not even carin’ where they landed.
My fingers moved to my clothes without me thinkin’ too hard about it, and I started undressin’ as I walked down the hallway, droppin’ pieces behind me one by one.
By the time I made it to my bedroom, my top was near the front door, my jeans somewhere in the middle of the hall, and I was standin’ here bare, feelin’ drained in a way I knew sleep wasn’t gon’ fix.