Chapter 21
The night was still young, but the house felt heavy. Tasha moved through it like a stranger, each step loud. Drawers were open, clothes tossed, the air thick with frustration. Juelz still hadn’t shown his face. She didn’t know if he was hiding or just avoiding her, but either way, it had her tight.
The Bluetooth speaker blasted Aaliyah, soft, sad, and familiar.
“How could the one I gave my heart to…”
Tasha sang along, voice cracking around the lyrics, as she came down the spiral stairs, throwing more clothes. She swiped a stack of mail off the counter, watching envelopes scatter to the floor.
The candle she’d lit earlier burned low, smoke curling like it was tired. Juelz’s cologne lingered, mixed with the faint smell of weed and body spray, twisting her chest.
Her phone buzzed again. Shyann’s number, which she’d been ignoring since she powered her phone back on, displayed on the screen. Thumb hovering, heart thudding. She didn’t answer. She turned the music up, letting it drown out the thoughts she didn’t want.
A picture frame tumbled off the shelf when she brushed past—a photo of her and Juelz at a cookout. He had his arm around her, smiling as if the world owed them nothing.
“Damn you, Juelz,” she whispered, sliding down the wall with the frame in her hands, as she pointed hard at the glass. “You really fucked me over like that? Huh?” She poked the glass harder, “Fuck you!”
Aaliyah’s voice rose again, heartbreak cutting through the silence.
“How could the one I gave my heart to… break my heart so bad…”
Tasha pushed herself onto her knees, half-drunk on emotion. Hair wild, face glistening, she sang every word like it was a confession, shaky, loud, off-key, but full of pain. Her voice bounced off the walls, filling the room like smoke.
She was barefoot in the living room, still wearing her black lingerie, with her robe hanging open. Mascara smudged, curls clinging to her shoulders, a woman caught between love, rage, heartbreak, and exhaustion.
Wine spilled on the counter. A chair toppled. Juelz’s PS5 Pro lay broken halfway across the room. The music screamed louder.
She spun once, eyes shut, arms stretched, lost in the song. Her voice broke completely. She dropped to her knees, screaming the last note through tears.
“Won’t somebody tell me… somebody tell me please, if you love me… how could you do that to me?”
The front door eased open.
Niyah stepped in, eyes wide, her Chanel purse sliding off her shoulder. She froze. The mess, the music, Tasha in the middle of the floor holding the photo frame beside her.
“Oh no! Tash…” she said softly, stepping forward, dropping her things.
Tasha turned, hurt and disbelief written across her face.
“He cheated, Niyah. With everythin’ I’m goin’ through. That muthafucka cheats on me.” Tasha pointed to her chest. “On me? And with Shy at that!”
Niyah stepped closer, easing over the mess that was thrown on the floor. “Hey… I know, baby. I know.”
Tasha let the frame slip and leaned into her best friend’s arms. The house was wrecked, and the silence that followed felt colder than anything Juelz ever said.
Niyah rubbed her back, eyes glossy. “You don’t deserve that shit, Tash. You hear me? After everything you've been through. Everything you do for that man? Nah. He was wrong for that. And as far as Shyann goes? Fuck her!”
Tasha sniffed, voice small but sharp. “I been silently fightin’ this fuckin’ cancer, Niyah. And this the fuckin’ thanks I get?” She kicked Juelz’s PlayStation controller across the room. “Huh, Niyah?”
Her chest hitched, breath cracking. “I gave my all to that raggedy, discolored ass nigga. I held him down. I fucked him when his balls were full. I loved him with everythin’ I had in me.
” She rolled her eyes to the back of her head, punching the inside of her palm.
“With my fuckin’ soul. But the moment my body starts to betray me…
that muthafucka steps out and fuck that bitch.
Just like that? God, why me?” She choked on her anger. “Mann! I’m so mad I can shit fye.”
Niyah closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Just calm down. Okay?”
Tasha was bawling now, her whole body was shaking, and snot dripped down to her lip. Her whole soul collapsed right there with Niyah.
“It’s okay, baby,” Niyah whispered. “But you can’t let them break you. You're stronger than that.”
Tasha shook her head. “Strong? I’m tired of bein’ strong. Tired of being the one holdin’ it together while he out here clownin’ me. Do you think knowin’ I have cancer makes me strong? Hell nah. It don’t.”
Niyah exhaled. “Aight, breathe, Tasha. Just breathe. We’ll figure the rest out. This ain’t good for your health.”
Before Tasha could reply, the front door rattled like thunder.
She froze. Niyah’s head snapped around. The doorknob twisted slow.
Juelz stepped in, gold chain catching the light, smelling like liquor and cologne. His eyes darted from Niyah to Tasha, then to the mess.
“What the fuc—Tasha, why you do all that?” His eyes searched the room. “Nooo…not my fuckin’ PS5.” He cried out. “What the fuck?”
Tasha snapped. She grabbed the burning candle from the coffee table and hurled it across the room. He ducked, and it missed his head by inches, crashing against the wall as hot wax splattered across his arm.
“Damn, Tash! You fuckin’ crazy?” he barked, standing back up, shaking his arm. “That shit was fuckin’ lit, girl. The fuck is you on?”
She didn’t care. Her chest was rising fast, eyes seeing red. “You fuckin’ cheated on me, Jue!” she screamed, shoving at his chest. “After everythin’ I've done. This how you treat me?”
“Tasha, chill—”
“Don’t tell me to chill!” She pounded on his chest with both her fists, each hit landing harder than the last. “You got me out here lookin’ stupid, Juelz! Fuckin’ stupid! You fucked Shy. My best fuckin’ friend. That bitch been smilin’ in my face all while fuckin’ on you.”
He grabbed her wrists mid-swing, holding tight but not rough, breathing hard. “I’m sorry, Tash. C’mon, stop! Stop, bae, it wasn’t like that.”
“Yous a dirty muthafucka. You foul as fuck, Jue,” Tasha spat as tears rolled from her cheeks.
Juelz knew she wasn’t wrong. He knew this would be the outcome once shit hit the fan. “I’m sorry, bae.”
“Sorry?” she yelled, struggling against his grip. “You say sorry when you step on someone's foot. You say sorry…when you accidentally bump into someone. But Jue, you fucked somebody. That ain’t no reason to say muthafuckin’ sorry. Nigga, you knew exactly what the fuck you were doing.”
Tasha gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh shit. You fell in the pussy. Huh?” She snapped her finger. “Is that it, Juelz Hardwin? That’s why you sayin’ sorry. You tripped in Shyann’s loose ass pussy.”
He stretched his arms out wide, looking for pity. “I fucked up, aight? I know I did. But Tash, it ain’t whatchu think. It was to protect you.”
She swung at him, her voice shaking. “It… it… It’s exactly what the fuck I think. You out here creepin’, and got the nerve to walk in here like everythin’ normal?”
Niyah stepped closer, voice trembling but firm. “Hey, y’all need to calm this down before somebody really gets hurt. Come on now. Shit!”
But neither of them heard her. Tasha pushed again, her voice breaking between sobs. “I hate you, Juelz. I swear to Gawd I hate you.”
He backed up, chest heaving. “Aye, on the real. Stop sayin’ that shit.”
Her bottom lip trembled, fury melting into something softer, something that scared her even more. She turned away, covering her face, sobs shaking her shoulders.
Juelz stepped forward again, reaching as if he didn’t know if he should touch her or not. “Tash…”
She flinched, voice hoarse. “Get the fuck away from me! Don’t fuckin’ say shit to me, Jue. Just go getcha shit and get the fuck outta my house.”
He looked stung to hear her say that. His eyebrows furrowed.
“Really, Tash? I ain’t goin’ no muthafuckin’ where. Yo name ain’t the only one on this shit. We ‘gon sit and figure this shit out.”
Tasha bit her bottom lip, shaking her finger towards Juelz.
She didn’t even think twice. Didn’t even blink.
She turned on her heels, her sheer gown flying open as she headed up the spiral staircase, every step echoing hard.
“I got somethin’ for yo ass. Wait one muthafuckin’ minute.
Nigga ‘gon tell me what the fuck he not ‘gon do. The fuck he thinks this is.”
“Where you goin’?” Juelz called after her.
She didn’t answer. Drawers slammed upstairs. Something fell. The door creaked open, then shut again.
Niyah looked at him, uneasy. “Juelz… leave her be, please. Just go somewhere ‘til she cools off. Maybe call Sin and go hang out for a bit.”
He scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Go? Man, I ain’t leavin’, we need to talk about this shit. Niyah?! You know I wouldn’t fuck with that girl like that.”
Niyah shrugged her shoulders. “Ion know what y’all got going on.
Honestly. Shy has been blowing my phone up non-stop.
” She placed her hand on her forehead. “I get over here, Shyann's freaking car is across the street in a ditch, and then it's broken glass all on the pavement. I mean, what is going on?”
Juelz started picking up some of the mess scattered on the floor, shaking his head. “Man, Ioneno but, I ain’t leavin’. We need to talk about this shit.”
From upstairs, her voice came back sharp and shaking with so much rage. “Oh, you gon’ get the fuck outta here, trust and believe that! On Mary and all the lil’ Lambs, you leavin’ this muthafucka today, nigga.”
A minute later, Tasha came down the stairs. The sheer gown and lingerie were gone, replaced with Juelz’s gray joggers, a black tank top, and her white Nike sneakers. Her curls were pulled into a messy bun, and her face was streaked but hard. She looked like a madwoman on a mission.
“Aight,” she said, walking right up to him. “You don’t wanna leave?” She tilted her head. “Huh?”