Chapter 19 #2
I looked at my niece. “Why are you still in grown people’s business?”
She shrugged and kept coloring. “You keep smiling.”
That got me all over again.
Truth was, they weren’t wrong.
Most nights that week had belonged to some version of me and Talia.
Her place. My condo. Movies we half watched.
Takeout containers on counters. Her heels by my door.
My shirt on her body. Her bonnet on my pillow.
Coffee in the morning. Her laughing at me over board games, then climbing into my lap like arguing had only been foreplay with extra steps.
The sex would have been enough to hook a weaker man.
But that wasn’t the part keeping me off balance anymore.
It was the ease after.
The way she fit into the rest of my life. The way I wanted her around when nobody was performing. The way a whole week had started arranging itself around when I might see her next, and I didn’t feel burdened by that at all.
That was the part that had me sitting at my parents’ table with my sister reading me for sport and no real defense to offer.
Because what was I supposed to say?
That Talia had gotten under my skin?
That my condo felt different after she left?
That I had started noticing which side of the bed she preferred, how she liked her coffee, how quiet she got when she was tired, and how much I liked being the man close enough to catch it?
No.
So I ate my cornbread and let Ciara enjoy herself.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Private this time.
Talia: That wasn’t cheating. That was strategy and male delusion.
Me: You still mad?
Talia: I’m still unconvinced you should be trusted with vowels.
Talia posted again while I was halfway through my second piece of cornbread.
Some people really think one home-cooked breakfast can erase a crime.
I almost choked.
I liked the post.
Then wrote:
Depends on the breakfast.
Her answer came right back.
It was a delicious one from what I heard.
My dick was hers. That was a fact. This fucking woman.
Marcus looked at me over his plate and shook his head. “You one of them now.”
“One of who?”
“One of them men who can’t eat in peace because a woman got him typing under the table.”
Ciara snapped her fingers. “Exactly.”
Mama kept eating.
That silence said enough.
My phone buzzed again.
Talia: Your family still got you hostage?
Me: You say hostage like I don’t come here on purpose.
Talia: You texting too fast for a free man.
I laughed softly under my breath.
“She funny?” Ciara asked without missing a beat.
I looked up slow. “Who.”
“The woman in your phone.”
That should’ve felt like a setup.
Instead, I answered honestly because I was getting tired of running from them. “Yeah. She is.”
That quieted the room for half a second.
Later, while Mama and Ciara cleaned up and Marcus got drafted into some nonsense involving crayons and a toy dinosaur, I drifted into the den where my father now slept, with my phone in one hand, and sat at the end of the couch while the television talked to itself.
I opened Instagram.
Talia had posted a story. Low light. A wineglass on her coffee table. One bare knee crossed over the other at the bottom edge of the frame. Maxwell in the background like she had personally decided to make my night less stable.
I reacted before I could stop myself.
You’re annoying.
Her reply came fast.
You like me though.
My mouth went soft on its own.
Me: That wasn’t the question.
Talia: You still over there pretending to be social?
I looked toward the kitchen. Mama and Ciara were still going back and forth about whether smoked pork or turkey was better in the greens. Family noise. Familiar walls. Real life all around me.
And still, my whole body had tilted toward Talia off one little story and a bare knee in a frame.
I typed back slower this time.
Me: Enjoying my family like a good son. It’s disgusting.
Talia: Aww. Look at you with values.
Me: Don’t do that.
Talia: Fine. Enjoy your people. I’ll be here trying not to miss you.
I swallowed hard and stared at her words long enough for Ciara to step into the den and clock my whole face.
“You leaving early?”
I looked at the time.
Maybe it was already written all over me, because Ciara smiled before I answered.
“Go ahead,” she said quietly, keeping her voice low like Pops wasn’t half asleep in the den with the TV still talking to itself. “You already halfway gone.”
I stood and slipped the phone into my pocket.
“I need you to tell this mystery woman something for me,” Ciara said.
“No.”
She laughed. “Drive safe, Romeo.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
I said goodbye in layers. Ari wrapped herself around my leg for a hug. Ciara walked me toward the door still grinning like she had personally solved a mystery. Mama looked up from the sink when I kissed her cheek and gave me one long look before she said, “Don’t get foolish.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Night had cooled some by the time I stepped outside. I stood beside my SUV with my keys in one hand and my phone in the other, looking down at Talia’s last message.
I’ll be here trying not to miss you.
I smiled, slow and helpless and already in trouble.
Then I called her.
She picked up on the second ring, but there was a small pause before she spoke. Just enough silence for me to hear her breathing and know I was not the only one caught up in this thing.
“Hey.”
Her voice came low through the phone, warm and close, like the word had been waiting on me.
“Hey.”
I got in the car and started the engine, still smiling like a fool in love. “You still at home?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’m coming to get you.”
Her laugh came back through the phone and did something warm to my chest immediately. “For what?”
“So we can finish what Scrabble started.”
“That sounds like a trap.”
“It’s a plan.”
“I will not let you win.”
“We’ll see.”