Chapter 6
Six
Navy Achebe
"You can't fix everything today, but you can start by listening to how she feels."
The advice I overheard Chosyn give Honor echoed in my head as I poured a cup of juice and sat at our breakfast nook.
Anything worth fixing took time. This I knew.
It required effort and understanding from both sides, and all I wanted was to understand Honor.
Not the little boy I met in my father's kitchen or the teenager I gave my heart to without question, but the Honor who'd started moving like an army of one.
The Honor who felt safe enough around Choyce to let his guard down for her to kiss him.
Above all, I wanted to understand the Honor who might've killed himself had River not interrupted.
Maybe if I understood this version of him, I could understand the version of myself that let another man eat off Honor's plate.
Honor's footsteps, dragging, pulled me from my thoughts as my eyes settled on the kitchen doorway.
He stepped in looking just as defeated as I felt.
His curls were tousled and frizzy, his shoulders slumped, and his face held the same blank, guarded glower that kept me on edge.
Still, it was hard to ignore how good he looked, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms that hung slightly off his waist. My eyes dragged along the chiseled lines of his V-cuts as my tongue swept across my lips.
"Why didn't you make your plate?"
Flicking my gaze upward, I shrugged. "I thought you were gonna do it."
As Honor walked to the island, my hand slid behind my back. I paused, then gripped the gun, easing it onto my lap.
"Thank you," I nervously uttered after he set my plate down.
"It's nothing."
Our voices were so dry and empty that if someone played them back, I wouldn't have believed they belonged to us.
"I—" I started to say something lighter, but as I shifted in my seat, the weight of the gun on my lap reminded me I wasn't here to comfort.
"I'ma bless the food," he muttered under his breath.
Honor bowed his head, and I followed suit.
"God…" His voice came out rough, like everything he felt scraped against his throat.
"This isn't my first time coming to you, and I know it won't be my last. Still, I hope you hear me and take mercy on my soul.
Lord, I come to you asking for the strength to withstand any and all honesty from the people I love.
Let me hear it without shutting down and without trying to fix everything so fast that I miss what's being said. "
Honor paused, and when I opened my eyes, his head shook faintly.
"Honor, I—" my chest coiled, every beat shuddering as his truth settled inside me.
"Teach me to be present," he continued. "Not just physically but emotionally.
Teach me how to love in a way that's more than words and feels like a safe haven for the woman I love.
Lord, I ask you to help me show my affection for Navy through my actions, my patience, and my ability to listen to her even when she's not speaking.
I want to love her better." Honor's voice softened in a way that felt like surrender.
"I want to be everything her heart deserves because she's been everything my soul ever needed.
Lastly, Lord, bless this food, bless this home, and bless the hearts sitting at this table. Amen."
"Amen," I mumbled.
While Honor ate, I poked at the shrimp and grits on my plate, my mind spinning as I tried to decide what to do.
Before his prayer, I was sold on telling him to take the gun resting on my lap and do what he had to if he truly didn't want to be here anymore.
However, after hearing him practically beg God for the tools to be patient with me and listen when I speak, I couldn't see myself pulling this gun out and demanding he use it.
My heart wouldn't allow it. Yet, my gut was screaming for me to stand on business, to stop letting Honor pull me in with words that never matched his actions.
I moved my fork around again, more out of angst than hunger since Honor was watching me.
After a while I moved my plate to the side, then eased the gun from my lap and placed it on the table with the barrel aimed at the love of my life.
Honor's eyes lingered on the gun. "You good?"
"That prayer you said was beautiful," I began, leaving his question unanswered. "I loved the part about being taught how to be present. That really touched me."
"Navy, what's this about?"
I tilted my head slightly, watching his every move.
There wasn't a breath Honor could take in this moment that went unnoticed.
The answer to his question danced at the tip of my tongue, but nothing came out.
Half of me wanted to speak, the other half wanted him to understand without me having to do any of this.
The gun was right there, a reminder that life was fragile but too precious to be taken lightly.
Honor's gaze lifted from the table. "You don't gotta say it. I know Wolfe told you."
"I'ma say it because you need to hear it," I scoffed, unable to hide my disbelief. "How can you ask God to teach you all these things when you don't even wanna fucking be here, Honor?"
"Navy, I—"
"No, nigga, you shut the fuck up!" I yelled, feeling my throat burn with every word. "What if River didn't get Gigi's call? Would you have done it? What if Crown and Wolfe weren't fast enough to stop you from putting a bullet in your fucking head?"
Tears burned behind my eyes, turning him and the gun into a haze. "What was the plan, Honor? Hmm?" I banged my hand against the table. "What was the fucking plan?"
Honor reached for the hand I'd slammed, and I snatched it back, fury and hurt tangling in my chest. "Don't," I choked out.
"Navy, calm down. We can talk, but you gotta relax."
"Why?" I shot back. "You weren't relaxed or calm when you took Crown's gun."
"He aimed it at me. The fuck was I 'posed to do?" he growled, biting back his bark.
"Don't… don't do that. Don't make this about what Crown did. You could've easily taken it—"
"And done fucking what?" Honor clipped, his condescending tone made my skin crawl. He still didn't get it. To him, what he did was small, nothing to stress over, but to me, it felt like every year I spent loving him was for nothing.
"Anything!" The word ripped out of me raw and bitter. "Any-fucking-thing besides pointing it at your big ass head."
Honor gave a short, gritty laugh and shook his head like I was overreacting. "I didn't do that shit."
"Okay, but the intent was clear enough for Wolfe to pick up on it. I'm not stupid, Honor, so don't play in my face like I am. Crown was wrong for what he did, but he's not my man. His actions aren't mine to correct, but yours are, and you owe me the fucking truth."
A stillness settled between us, unbearable and stifling.
Our eyes met, but the connection that once lived there was faint, like a flame struggling against harsh winds.
Honor leaned back, arms loose at his sides, lips pressed together, and eyes flicking toward the table, then away like my concern for his well-being wasn't warranted.
"Did you even think about me?" The question slipped out, but it was necessary.
Honor's jaw tautened, and his fingers strummed the edge of the table in a rhythm of avoidance.
"I can feel you, Honor," I mumbled, "considering whether to lie, deflect, or manipulate my love for you as a way to get out of this conversation."
"That's how low you think of me, Navy? You think I manipulate your love for me."
"I know you do, but this isn't about that, so answer the question."
"Why would I think about you when doing some shit like that?" he challenged.
"I'll die before I do life without you. You remember telling me that?"
Honor nodded, but that wasn't good enough for me.
"I need to hear it."
"I remember."
"Then that should be reason enough," I told him. "You can't say something like that and then do what you did without me being your first thought. What your death would've done to me should've been your first fucking thought."
"I don't know what you want me to say," he said, rubbing his knuckles along his jawline.
"I don't either," I admitted, my gaze burning into the chrome of the Glock resting between us.
"Navy."
Honor's eyes were sleek with emotion, searching for somewhere to place his pain.
For a second, I let my heart be that place because beneath everything Honor had become, the boy I met, the teenager I fell in love with, was still there.
The connection just wasn't the same. My heart didn't race.
My nerves didn't tremble, and I didn't feel responsible for fixing him anymore.
"Navy," he repeated, and I knew 'I need to hear you say it' was coming next.
"I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore," I muttered. "Am I fighting for us, or am I fighting for you to see the value in your own life? I love you, and this whole time I thought my love was enough to fix whatever Lucian broke inside of you."
"It is," he quickly insisted.
I shook my head. "It's not. Love isn't magic. It doesn't heal trauma, and it won't erase the pain you hide so perfectly. Love is meant to feel safe, and this…" I paused, bracing myself. "This… our relationship doesn't feel safe to me."
Honor dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as arrogance slipped back into place.
"I don't love you, Navy?" He squinted, his jaw contracting like my words were a puzzle he refused to solve.
"I don't think you love yourself."
"Word?" He chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Tell me how fucking so."
"That's not for me to explain, but if you think otherwise, prove me wrong."
I stood, grabbed the gun, and walked around the nook until I was behind him.
"If you want to die," I breathed out, "tell me now, and I'll send you to meet the devil myself."
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked calmly, too calmly, almost like he was daring me to pull the trigger.