Chapter 5
K a s s i m w a s k n o c k e d out in my arms, peaceful as ever.
We were headed to lunch to meet my mom and stepdad, and I was already preparing myself.
My mother had that lowkey bougie energy, and Carl was cool, but he’d let her talk herself into a full monologue before he stepped in.
They both loved Knuck, which made it trickier when we didn’t agree on something like the wedding.
I was the type who wanted a full wedding experience.
Not over-the-top or fairy tale, but classy and memorable.
I wanted the flowers, the music, the dress, the moment.
It wasn’t just about the photos or social media.
I wanted the memory. I wanted something we could look back on and say, ‘We really did that.’ But Knuck was hard-pressed to get married by the end of next month.
That was like six weeks away. He wasn’t feeling a big wedding, and he said all that extra shit didn’t matter.
That it was about the love, not the show.
“Do you want the love or the social media spectacle, Nyomi?” he had the nerve to ask me after the last conversation with my mom. Shit, I wanted both.
I adjusted Kassim’s little hat while Knuck grabbed the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You ready?” he asked, standing by the door, looking like he just stepped off a rap album cover with his fine ass.
“As ready as I’m gonna be,” I said. “They’re probably already there.” Outside, it was chilly with puddles of rain from earlier.
Knuck opened the passenger door for me while I got Kassim strapped into his seat. “Aye, you better not start screamin’ in there. Don’t have me out here lookin’ like I don’t run my household.”
Kassim blinked at him like he couldn’t have cared less. I laughed. “He’s not trying to hear you.”
“Yeah, his lil’ ass looks like he's up to somethin’,” Knuck muttered as we climbed into the car.
The restaurant my mother picked was upscale, quiet, and overpriced—her usual style. Velvet booths, gold fixtures, and sharp servers. By the time we arrived, I was starving. Knuck got Kassim out of the carseat and I climbed out of his truck, adjusting my coat on the sidewalk.
“You got him?” I asked.
“Always,” he said, fixing the baby’s hat.
Inside, the vibe was cozy with candles on each table. Soft music playing. Cinnamon in the air. My mother and Carl were already seated. She had on a burgundy wrap dress, curls laid, and jewelry that matched. Carl was in a dark sweater and slacks, casual but clean.
As soon as she saw us, my mom stood up. “Oh my goodness! Look at my grandbaby!” she said, reaching for Kassim like she hadn’t seen him on FaceTime all week. “Carl, look at this little man.”
“He’s fresh, Deb,” Carl said, grinning. “What’s up, y’all?” He kissed my cheek.
Knuck dapped him up. “What’s good?”
My mother gave him a smile. “Hey, baby. You look good.”
“‘Ppreciate it.” As we sat down, Kassim got passed to Carl, and a waitress came to take our drink orders. It was normal for all of three minutes before my mother opened her mouth.
“So,” she said, folding her hands like she was about to give a presentation, her voice careful and a little nervous. “Have we decided on colors? Because I’m thinking ivory, gold, and a soft blush. It’s elegant and giving Springtime.”
Knuck took a long sip of his tequila.“We ain’t pickin’ no colors,” he said flatly.
She blinked. “What?”
“We ain’t doin’ all that,” he repeated. “I keep tellin’ y’all we gettin’ married by the end of next month.”
I stared at him. “Knuck…”
“On everything,” he said, looking right at me. “I want you to be my wife now, not a year or two from now.”
My mother set her glass down. “Now wait a minute. You’re talking… what? Six weeks, Keon?”
He nodded. “Five and a half. Perfect timin’.”
Carl stayed silent as he rocked Kassim and minded his business, sipping his mimosa. “Nyomi,” my mother said, turning to me. “He’s serious?”
“Very.” I sighed, shoulders heavy, and reached for my water.
“I thought we were planning a wedding.”
“We are.”
Knuck jumped in. “I been tryna marry you. It’s all this extra shit I’m not on board wit’.”
My mother looked like she was about to go off, which was rare. “Ny, talk to your man.”
“I tried.”
“Keon, she wants the dress, the ceremony, the celebration,” my mother followed up.
“And I want the marriage,” Knuck replied, calm but solid. “I want the moment too, but I want it wit’ her, not wit’ 200 people we barely know.”
“She deserves her day,” my mother shot back at him.
“And I’ll give it to her,” he said. “Whatever she wants. But we gettin’ married by the end of next month.”
Carl finally spoke. “That means y’all got some quick planning to do, my guy.”
Knuck looked at me. “I ain’t stoppin’ you from havin’ the vibe you want, baby. I’ll do anything for you. I just ain’t waitin’ for the social media lavish shit for us to be official.”
“I want my day to be perfect,” I said. “I wanna be your wife now, but I also want a real wedding, Keon. I’m not budging on that.”
His jaw locked, and he gulped down the rest of his mimosa. Then, he stood up. “I gotta take a piss.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head, and Carl sighed as he reached for my hand. “It’ll come together, Ny.”
My mother sipped her mimosa but didn’t look happy. “This is crazy.”
???
T h e c a r r i d e home was filled with tension. Kassim was snoring in the backseat and I leaned up against the passenger door, scrolling through my phone just to keep my hands busy. My nails tapped softly against the screen, but my mind wasn’t on anything I was looking at. I was mad as fuck.
Lunch had not gone the way I imagined it.
My mother came full-speed, pushing her ideas like she had already paid a deposit somewhere.
Knuck didn’t budge one bit or even try to sugarcoat it.
His ass didn’t care how it made her feel or me, for that matter.
He just shut everything down in front of everybody like it wasn’t a big deal.
We barely made it out of the restaurant before I grabbed the baby and walked ahead. I didn’t even want him to open the door for me. I got Kassim settled in the car, then slid in the passenger seat without a word, and I hadn’t said one since. Now we were halfway home, and he hadn’t said shit either.
Knuck didn’t ask if I was good. He just sat there like everything was cool, one hand on the wheel, the other resting low on his thigh, eyes straight ahead like he didn’t just embarrass me in front of my family.
I turned my head and looked out the window, letting my lips press into a tight line.
I was so deep in my head I didn’t even notice the music had gone low until I heard his voice.
“You got some shit you wanna say?” I remained silent, still scrolling my phone like I was too unbothered to care. He turned the music all the way down. “I’m talkin’ to you, Ny.”
I let out a slow breath. “Don’t start with me, Keon.”
“Nah, fuck all that. You been actin’ like you got an attitude since we left that table.”
I turned to him slowly. “Because I do.”
He laughed once, all dry and sarcastic. “For what? ‘Cause I ain’t let your mama plan our whole fuckin’ weddin’?”
I snapped. “Because you embarrassed me! You made me look powerless in all this! You can’t just disrespect people like that, especially my mother!”
“I talked to her like a man who ain’t gon’ let nobody else dictate our shit.”
“It wasn’t about dictating. It was about respecting the fact that I have a vision too! One that doesn’t include you shutting it down like I’m stupid for wanting it.”
He sucked his teeth and shook his head, jaw tightening. “Man, here we go…”
“No, here you go! You always tryna control shit like your way is the only way! You’re so stuck on being in charge that you don’t even realize when you’re hurting the people around you.
” Kassim stirred in the back seat, then started fussing loudly.
I turned back, trying to rock his car seat with my hand. “Shhh, baby. It’s okay.”
Knuck tapped the brakes harder than necessary at the red light. “You done?”
“I was done before you turned the damn music down.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and flung the door open.
“The fuck you doin’?” Knuck barked. I stepped out anyway, slamming the door behind me as I stormed off down the sidewalk. The wind slapped me in the face, but it didn’t cool me off, not even a little bit. “Nyomi!” his voice echoed behind me. “Get your ass back in this truck!”
I didn’t even look back. I just kept walking.
“You think this shit’s a game?” His voice was closer now, windows down. “Keep playin’! You not gon’ walk off on me like I ain’t that nigga who’ll come snatch you off this damn sidewalk!”
I kept walking, mad as hell.
“Take one more fuckin’ step, and I swear to God, I’ll park this bitch, and come drag your stubborn ass back myself!”
I turned slowly, eyes narrowed, chest rising.
Knuck wasn’t playing, and I could see that.
So, I stomped back toward his truck, yanked the door open, and slid back into the passenger seat, silent and heated.
He waited until I buckled my seatbelt again.
Then his hand came out of nowhere, gripping me by the throat.
Not too hard, but fuck… my pussy got wet instantly.
I was still pissed the hell off, though.
His jaw clenched. “You done lost your fuckin’ mind,” he growled, eyes locked on mine. “Jumpin’ out this muthafucka wit’ my son in the back? ‘Cause I ain’t let your mama run shit?”
I glared at him, lips parted, chest heaving.
Then, he kissed my lips and let me go. “Sit back, fix your attitude, and know we gon’ finish this shit at home. Behind our door. Not out here actin’ like niggas wit’ no control.”
He let me go, and I sat back slowly, still fuming. Kassim was crying again, and Knuck reached back with one hand to rock his car seat. He drove us home like he hadn’t just shut everything down, and I just sat there, fuming.
We weren’t done, but I wasn’t about to keep arguing in the car. Because Knuck wasn’t one of those soft-ass, say-what-you-want type of niggas. He let you talk, but he also made you listen. And I knew when it was time to shut up… for now.