Chapter Thirteen
“Well, if you’re going to play the love card...”
Aaliyah
A nother class down, and one more to go before I’m done for the day. Can’t say I’m happy about that. For the past few months, I had Gia to look forward to after I finished. But now, without her, I just go back home—yep, I now call Tamara’s apartment “home”—and clean, do homework, try out new recipes (that’s been an epic fail), binge Amazon Prime...everything but think on how much I’m missing her.
And her father.
Nope. Nopenopenope.
Not going there.
“Hey, Aaliyah, hold up.”
At the sound of my name, I draw to a halt and look over my shoulder. Amari, a guy from my Readings in World Literature class jogs up to me, smiling. I return it, waiting on him to reach me. He’s a nice guy, and we’ve shared notes once or twice.
“You headed to the caf?” he asks, shifting his book bag higher on his shoulder.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t have a meal plan. I’ll probably grab something from McDonald’s.”
“Gotchu. Want some company? My next class isn’t for another couple of hours.”
I glance at him, searching his face to see if this is a platonic offer or...
“Nah.” He chuckles, holding up his hands. “It’s not like that. A friendly lunch, that’s all.”
My laughter joins his, and why not? Shoot, I don’t want to be alone anyway. And he’s smart and funny and will be good company. It’ll keep my mind off... Stop it, Aaliyah. God, can’t you go twenty minutes without thinking of him?
“That’s sounds good. You okay with McDonald’s or do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Mickey D’s is good.”
We hike over to one of the student parking lots, talking about our class and what’ll probably be on the final after Thanksgiving break.
Thanksgiving.
At one time, I imagined spending it with Tamara, Von and Gia. That dream looks a lot different now. Sadness spears me in the chest, and I rub my knuckles over the aching spot. Gia has called me more than a few times, and those conversations have been the bright spot in my days. But it’s not the same as seeing her and spending time with her.
God, I miss her.
“Uh, Aaliyah. Please tell me you know that Ryan Henry looking dude mugging the shit out of me. I mean, I’ll cape for you if I have to, but damn, that muthafucka huge.”
“Huh?” I toss him a startled look, but he dips his head in the direction of my parked car.
“Over there.”
I follow the line of his sight, and my heart stalls behind my ribs before speeding up so much I’m light-headed. “Von?”
I’m not even aware I said his name aloud until he pushes off the side of my car and walks forward, pausing at the rear of his truck. The truck I’m just now noticing is next to my car.
“Aaliyah.” He switches his attention to Amari. “Who’re you?”
“Her friend and classmate who has zero interest in her other than her class notes, bruh.” He glances at me. “Tell him, Aaliyah, before he knocks my ass to sleep.”
“Seriously, Amari?”
“Dead ass.” He laughs. “Look, I’ll get up with you later. Looks like you have different plans for lunch. See you.”
With that, he walks off, leaving me alone with Von.
My heart still pounds, throwing itself against my chest as if trying to get back to its owner. The traitorous thing obviously hasn’t learned its lesson.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask, proud of myself when my voice emerges cool, unbothered.
“Came to see you.” His gaze shifts in the direction where Amari disappeared. “Who’s he?”
“A friend. Not that it’s your business. What did you want?” An alarming thought suddenly pops in my head. “Is it Gia? Is everything okay with her?”
“She’s good. Well,” he grunts, “she’s fine anyway.”
“What does that mean, she’s fine? Did something happen?”
“Yeah, you left. She hasn’t been good since then.”
Guilt seeps inside me, but so does anger. As if he didn’t have anything to do with my resigning. I bear the responsibility, too. I knew better than to get intimately involved with him.
“I miss her, too.”
“She’s not the only one who hasn’t been good.”
My mouth and throat go dry.
Then that anger flares bright, incinerating the guilt. It covers the sadness, the hurt, the love that still simmers beneath.
Anger is better.
“Is this fun for you? What kind of game are you playing? You walked away from me. You left me. And now, two weeks later, you show up here, and I’m supposed to do what? Forget there’s been radio silence? That I’m not important to you?” Not as important as you are to me . I flick my fingers at him. “There are other nannies out there, Von. I’m not irreplaceable.”
“Yeah, there are other nannies, but there ain’t another you .”
“That’s what you’re going with?” I don’t try to conceal my skepticism. Or disbelief. Even though my heart swoons a little at the corny words. “No thanks. Now if there’s anything else?”
“Liyah,” Von murmurs, and I want to melt, sink into him at the sound of his low, graveled voice wrapped around my name.
Reminding me of when he growled it into my ear as he plastered his chest to my back, sliding deep inside me.
Reminding me of when he held me close and whispered it just before he brushed a kiss across my forehead.
Damn him! I was doing so good before he showed up here.
Well, not good, but I was managing. I was keeping it together and moving forward. Now his presence here has knocked me yards backward.
“Von, I don’t—”
“I’m sorry, ma. I violated that night at Tamara’s place. I left you to the fucking wolves when I should’ve stayed there, continuing to have your back and giving you a chance to explain instead of walking out and leaving you behind.” He takes a step closer to me, and I stumble back one. Stopping, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and I snatch my gaze from his mouth, returning it to his eyes. But God, that’s not any better.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, gentler.
I want to cave. I want to erase the distance between us—both physical and mental—and forget about how he hurt me. How I hurt him. But it’s not that easy. Love...is not that easy. Especially when I’m the only one suffering from it.
“Oh, now you’re willing to hear me out?” I cross my arms, not caring how defensive I might appear to him. “I asked you to let me explain that night, and I was willing to explain for days afterward. But now, on your time, you’re giving me the grace to listen?” Shut up. Shut up , I order myself. I’m letting my hurt feelings splatter all over this student parking lot. But I’m on a roll, and I can’t stop. “I never lied to you, never betrayed you. You, more than anyone else, know me—even more than Tamara, if I’m being real. And yet you were so quick, so willing to paint me with the same brush as Sheree.”
“I know, baby.”
But I barely register his agreement or the endearment that makes tears sting my eyes.
“Yes, I was engaged. But on the day of the wedding, I ran. So you were right about me being a runner, but I ended up running to something. Toward me. And finding me. That ‘me’ didn’t have a fiancé anymore. I stopped having one as soon as I jumped in that Uber and rode to Tamara’s hotel. As you saw firsthand, my parents are stubborn and only believe and accept what they want. Gregory, my ex, is cut from the same cloth. Although, I suspect his being here had less to do with him loving me and more to do with pleasing my father. Either way, I never mentioned it because Gregory was—is—a nonfactor in my life. I never loved him, and I only agreed to marry him out of obligation, the same reason he proposed to me. I never once deliberately lied or hid him from you. I just didn’t think about him.”
Silence beats between us, and I look away. It’s getting too hard, and my feelings are too close to the surface. “Von, look...”
“Thank you for the explanation, but I didn’t need it. I’ve already accepted that you weren’t on no bullshit. You’re right. I did take out my past with Sheree on you when you’re nothing alike. You’d never lie to me. Never deliberately hurt me. And even that night, in the back of my mind, I knew that. But I was too scared to accept it. You’d become too important to me, too necessary, and I panicked. I was the runner that day, Liyah. Running and looking for any excuse to avoid experiencing the pain I’d suffered in my marriage. I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”
I don’t reply. God, I can’t . I’d need breath to accomplish that.
“I love you, Liyah. I think I started falling when I walked into that school and saw you sitting at the table with my little girl, looking like you’d move all the furniture in that office for her. And everything you’ve done and been since then has only dragged me deeper until I can’t see, think, smell, fucking be without you. I get I hurt you. Give me a chance to make that up to you. Come back to me and Gia. Please.”
I could’ve held out against the declaration of love.
I could’ve even held out against him tossing Gia in there.
But that “please”? I have no defense against it.
Oh hell. Who am I kidding? I couldn’t have held out against none of that. He had me before he opened his mouth.
Letting my book bag slide to the pavement, I take four strides and throw myself at him. His strong arms catch me and close around me. His embrace is tight, nearing painful, but I’m not complaining. I wish he’d hold me tighter, closer. I’d crawl inside him if I could. Because here, in his arms, against his body, I’m at my safest. At my happiest.
At my most content.
“Kiss me,” he rasps, and I have no problem obeying him.
Tipping back my head, I cup the nape of his neck with one hand and the back of his head with the other. I rise on my toes and meet his mouth halfway. At my first taste of him in weeks, I whimper. I needed this. I missed this. So much. Yes, the passion. I mean, yeah . But more, I missed the closeness, the connection. Him.
“I gotta correct myself. I said there ain’t another you. That’s true, but there ain’t another pussy like yours, either. And fuck, ma. I’ve missed you both.”
“Whose pussy?” I mock frown.
He grins, probably at my question as much as me saying the word. For the first time since I’ve known him, his smile is carefree, bright and so wide I’m staring at all thirty-two of his teeth.
“You’re right. My pussy.”
I chuckle, and when he kisses me again, he takes my mouth and my laughter.
“Yaay!” I jerk my head up to see the back door of his truck fly open, narrowly missing a side swipe of the car next to it. Gia climbs down and dashes over to us, throwing her arms around both our waists and grinning up at me. “You’re back, Liyah! You’re back!”
I crack up, bending down and returning her hug. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school, ma’am?”
“Daddy said I could come with him in case he needed a secret weapon.”
“Oh really?” I straighten, arching an eyebrow. “That’s just sneaky, using her.”
He shrugs. “I ain’t never said I would play fair when it has to do with you. I’m coming behind you hard, ma. And I always will. That’s a promise.”
“Me, too, Liyah!” Gia chimes in, and when Von bends down and lifts her, she circles her arms around my neck, smacking a kiss on my cheek.
I blink back my tears. This is what I was running to when I left home, even if I didn’t know it at the time. Not that it matters.
The only thing that does matter is I made it.
I made it home.
Look for Tamara’s story, coming in 2026!