Chapter 2
The steam curled around my bathroom like ghosts of every red flag I ignored. It clung to the mirror, fogging my vision and blurring the reflection of a woman who was once somebody’s fiancée but now appeared to be grief wrapped in good skin.
I stood there naked, vulnerable, and painfully aware of every place he had touched me, every lie he whispered while my heart believed him, and every moan he gave to her that I never received.
I stepped into the shower as if entering a courtroom—ready to wash off the evidence but not the sentence.
The water hit my skin, hot enough to baptize me back into myself.
But no matter how hard I scrubbed, no matter how many times I let the water scald my back as if it could boil betrayal away, I still felt dirty.
Not because of what I did, but because of what I allowed to slide.
I grabbed the peppermint soap as if it owed me answers and lathered until the scent overpowered the stench of heartbreak.
My hands moved in circles, furious motions that felt more like war than comfort.
My washcloth had become a weapon, and the battlefield was my body.
I cried quietly. It didn’t sound like tears; it resonated like thunder behind my ribs. “You really let this bitch ass man play in your face… in your house… with your family,” I muttered, dragging the cloth down my arm as if it could erase every memory from under my skin.
There wasn’t enough Dr. Bronner’s in the world to cleanse betrayal that bold.
My knees buckled, and I sat right there in the shower, letting the water roll down my back like holy oil—cleansing the sin, or sealing the scar.
I couldn’t tell which anymore. My mind kept rewinding, stuck on the image of Kam’s stupid face, wide-eyed and pleading, as if he was the victim.
I really caught him. Bent over. Moaning. With my cousin.
I gagged again, for real this time. I leaned over and heaved nothing but heartbreak and stomach acid into the drain, as if my body was trying to exorcise the demons they left behind. I had loved that man. I trusted him. I had imagined a future with him.
Now all I could picture was his naked body screaming my cousin’s name like it was a song request. Was he gay? Had he always liked taking dicks in his ass? Had he done that with actual men before? Was he into men? Was this some sick fetish?
I finally turned off the water, my body pruned and trembling, my pride washed away down the drain with the peppermint suds.
Wrapped in my towel, I stared at my reflection.
My hair was a mess, my edges rebellious, and my eyes puffy and bloodshot.
But underneath all that? I was still me.
Still Jonay. Still Jeanette’s baby girl.
Still that twin sister who always had her siblings’ Jonell and Jason’s backs.
Still the detention deputy who worked doubles, paid her own bills, and ensured the inmates had decent meals.
Just because a man couldn’t recognize my value didn’t mean it diminished. He didn’t break me; he simply reminded me of the woman I never wanted to be again—the one who accepted less and called it love.
I opened my bathroom drawer, took out my lavender oil, and rubbed it onto my skin like a forcefield of serenity. I massaged shea butter into my thighs, hips, and elbows. Then, I slipped on my softest yellow T-shirt and the largest bonnet I could find—my “I ain’t got time today” one.
And I didn’t. I didn’t have time for heartbreak hangovers, pity parties, or the ghost of Kam’s cries still lingering in my ear.
I lit one of my homemade candles—the eucalyptus scent I reserved for moments after emotional battles.
Sitting at the edge of my bed with my legs crossed, I hoped like hell that peace would slip under my door like a roommate radiating with good energy.
That was when my phone buzzed.
It was my group chat with my twin, Jonell, and my best friend, Leila.
Jonell :
I already got bond money ready. Who we jumping? We about to pull up!
Leila:
Because I stay with the shits!
Jonell :
PERIODT!
I chuckled, lips curling up slightly.
Then the next message came in.
Daddy :
You on your way? Mama asking for you. I told her you were coming.
Just like that, the weight settled back into my chest, like a rude guest who never knocked. I grabbed my keys, pulled on some sweatpants, and whispered a prayer with shaky confidence.
“Lord, I don’t know what this night is about to bring, but please don’t let it take away what little I have left.”
Jonell and Leila arrived at the same time.
Jonell pulled up in her midnight-blue Malibu, while Leila arrived in her black Dodge Charger.
It felt like they were double-parked by fate.
Jonell had her hair tied up in a velvet bonnet, and her thick, cinnamon thighs were spilling out of her Nike shorts.
She radiated an attitude as strong as the heat from a shot of Patrón.
She held a bag in one hand and a fierce determination in the other.
Leila, dressed entirely in black with her matching Air Force sneakers, made me chuckle.
Jonell was a certified crash out behind me, but Leila was always ready to throw down with her wild personality as well and fought like a trained boxer.
Leila declared, “I brought bleach, backup lashes, and that little mini bat from under my bed just in case. Bestie, where Ebony bitch ass at?” she called out while swinging the bat like Harley Quinn, referencing the character from the movie The Player’s Club.
I let out a sharp breath that could’ve been a laugh if my soul wasn’t still in recovery. I opened the front door fully, still holding onto the doorknob like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
“They’re gone. Both of them,” I muttered, voice rasped from crying and yelling and gagging on the bullshit I walked in on.
Jonell paused in the doorway like she was trying to sense the spirits.
“I know this ain’t the house of deceit and strap-ons. Lord, let me tread lightly before I turn into the demon they summoned.”
She stepped in, looked around at the mess of clothes, broken candles, and twisted sheets on the floor. Her mouth twisted up like she smelled betrayal and Black & Mild’s in the walls.
“See… this that Tyler Perry-ass setup I don’t like. I told you that man gave sassy Sagittarius. He always had a lil’ swing in his spirit.”
“Not now, Nell,” I whispered, shaking my head.
She softened.
Her voice dropped to that tone only a twin could conjure: half storm, half comfort. “Aight. I’m here now. And I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
We got to work, silent but synchronized.
Nell picked up clothes while Leila tossed the sheets into a trash bag like they were a biohazard. She sprayed the bed down with Lysol, and I followed up with bleach, even though I knew damn well bleach didn’t erase memories. It felt cleansing to do it, though.
“Bitch, you gon’ need to sage this whole damn house,” Jonell said, holding up Kam’s favorite hoodie with two fingers like it was diseased. “He wore this the night y’all went to that comedy show, right? I’m ’bout to cut this shit into ribbons.”
“Don’t forget to burn his bonnet,” I mumbled.
Jonell and Leila both paused.
“…His what?” Jonell questioned.
“Kam wore a bonnet.”
She blinked. “You mean durag?”
“No, sis. A bonnet. Like mine. With the satin edge protection.”
Jonell sat on the bed and screamed into a pillow so loud the candles flickered while Leila fanned herself and turned red from trying not to laugh in my face.
Once we got the room cleaned up, Leila tossed me a cold ginger ale and popped the top on one for herself while Jonell settled for a bottle of water. We sat on the couch, still in silence, a comfort only sisters could share without a hint of awkwardness.
I finally broke it.
“I really thought I was gon’ marry him, y’all.”
Jonell’s head snapped toward me. “Jonay. You almost married a man who moaned for Taleah like she was Tank on tour. You dodged a bullet and a butt plug.”
Leila hollered, and it broke me. My snort spilled out, wild and messy, before I could even think of holding it back.
“You know, Taleah always had strange vibes. She wore white to y’all Grandma Jan’s funeral, claiming it was ‘fashion-forward.’ That ho hasn’t had a moral compass since 2003,” Leila retorted.
“She said we weren’t close.”
Jonell stopped mid-sip. “Excuse me?”
“According to her, ‘We not even that close.’ As if our mothers aren’t twins. As if we haven’t been splitting birthday cakes for the past twenty-nine years.”
Jonell stood up and pointed at the ceiling as if she was filing a spiritual complaint. “Lord, I know I’ve asked for forgiveness before, but I’m going to need a hall pass on this one. Just one fade. One.”
Leila sat with her leg shaking repeatedly and a frown on her pretty face. She was on go and pissed.
I wiped my face and looked at them. “Why do I feel like this is my fault, though?”
Leila shook her head in disbelief, and her face softened.
“Now don’t piss me off. You feel that way because you are a good woman. Good women internalize shit that was never ours to carry.” Leila grabbed my hand.
“Let me be clear: You haven’t lost anything tonight but dead weight and deception. That wasn’t your husband. That wasn’t your cousin. And that shit definitely wasn’t your fault,” Jonell said.
They pulled me into a group hug, and I crumbled in their arms like cornbread.
“I don’t feel strong at all.”
“You don’t have to feel strong. You just gotta keep standing. We’ll work on the strength part later, sis.”
Then Leila pulled back, wiped my tears with her thumb, and added with a wink, “And we are definitely slashing Studnificent’s tires after this hospital visit.”