Chapter 17
Maliah
Birthdays used to feel like something. It used to be something I could look forward to without overthinking every little detail attached to it.
When I was younger, it was simple. It consisted of cake, laughter, my dad making sure nobody ruined my day, and me believing that happiness didn’t come with conditions.
Now, sitting in my car two months after losing the one person who made everything feel too real to ignore, my birthday feels more like a reminder than a celebration.
A reminder that time is moving whether I’m ready for it or not.
A reminder that people leave, even when they feel permanent.
A reminder that I said I was done with Tahari, but my heart never got the message.
I was still healing, and the journey was a slow one, but I was on it.
If I’m being honest with myself, I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now if it weren’t for my aunt Tori’s voice lingering in the back of my mind like something I couldn’t mute no matter how hard I tried.
Somebody else gone have you sitting up in here like Tarzan, who?
I didn’t agree with her when she said it.
I nodded, I listened, but deep down I knew she didn’t understand what Tahari meant to me…
what he still means to me. A piece of what she said might have been right, but that’s if I were open to letting someone else get close. That scared the shit out of me.
But I knew that I had to at least try because the way I was going about things was not making anything any better.
I fell into a cycle of sitting in my room night after night, rereading old messages I told myself that I should delete.
Replaying memories that refused to fade wasn’t healing me.
It kept me stuck. And that’s how Cornelius happened.
He wasn’t new. That’s the crazy part. Cornelius had been around.
He was always in the picture, just a blurry figure in the back.
We went to the same school, walked in the same hallways, and stood in the same crowded spaces where everybody knew everybody’s business.
He was a football player with a name people respected, the type of boy teachers gave extra chances to, and girls gave extra attention to.
He was tall with broad shoulders and strong characteristics.
His complexion was the color of butter scotch, and he had attractive features.
He was a real pretty boy with gray eyes.
He favored the actor who played Jackson Avery on Grey’s Anatomy.
He wasn’t hard to notice, but I just never paid him any mind.
Not like that anyway. And it could have been because he just wasn’t Tahari.
He didn’t possess that rugged appearance that Tahari had come with.
But he paid attention to me. I remember the way his eyes used to linger a little too long when we passed each other.
It was really the way he’d speak just enough to let me know he was interested without ever overstepping.
It was subtle, respectful, and patient. And after everything with Tahari, after Auntie kept pushing me to stop isolating myself, I finally responded to one of his messages.
It started small. A simple “hey.” But that was all that was needed to get the ball rolling.
After that one little text, we shared conversations that stretched longer than I expected.
We shared late-night texts that weren’t heavy or complicated.
The conversation between us was just easy.
He’d ask about my day, crack jokes, tell me about practice, send me random little things that let me know he was thinking about me without trying too hard to impress me.
It felt… safe. Things with him were predictable in a way that didn’t make my nerves bad.
And when he asked me out, I didn’t say yes right away, but I didn’t say no either.
I ran things by mom, and she seemed excited for me.
I didn’t know if it was because he was a regular boy from school or because I seemed to be smiling again.
Whatever the reason, she convinced Dad to loosen the reins a bit.
Still, I was hesitant to even go on a date with Cornelius.
Then he remembered my birthday. Not because I told him on purpose, but because he paid attention weeks before when I expressed that I had no idea what I wanted to do for it.
He took heed of it and told me that he wanted to make the day special for me.
I was opposed to it at first, but he had done some serious convincing to change my mind.
When he came to my house with flowers in his hand to do a light introduction with my parents before we went out, I told myself I owed it to myself to try.
To try something different. To try someone different.
And now here I am. Sitting in front of Whip N Dip, of all places, staring down at a melting cup of ice cream like it holds answers I haven’t figured out yet.
I should’ve told him no when he suggested it.
I should’ve told him that this place already meant something to me and that it wasn’t just ice cream and that sitting parked outside of the ice cream parlor would make me think of memories that I wasn’t ready to revisit.
But I didn’t. Because a part of me wanted to prove that I could.
That I could come here and not feel like I was standing in the middle of something unfinished.
I was wrong. Because the second he pulled into one of the parking spots out front, I didn’t just see a building.
I saw Tahari like he never left. Clear as day, he was leaning against his car, looking at me like I was the only one in the world for him.
No matter how much I tried to focus on the present and on the man sitting next to me who was trying to do things the right way, the past just wouldn’t loosen its grip.
“Maliah.”
Cornelius’s voice pulled me back again. It was steady, grounded, and real in a way my thoughts weren’t in the moment. I turned toward him and forced myself to meet him where he was instead of where my mind kept drifting off to.
“I’m good,” I said, even though I knew I’ve been saying that too much lately. “I’m just thinking.”
He watched me for a second, like he was trying to read between the lines, but he didn’t push. That’s one thing I’ll give him. he doesn’t force his way into spaces I don’t open.
“You’ve been doing a lot of that,” he said lightly. “I’m trying to make today a good day for you.”
And he had been. That’s what made this harder than it should have been. He’s doing everything right, and somehow it still didn’t feel like enough.
“I know,” I told him softly, “and I appreciate it. For real.”
And I did. I just didn’t know if appreciation is the same thing as feeling. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light either. It just existed, sitting between what is and what I wish felt different. Then his eyes dropped to my lips, and I already knew what was coming.
“Can I get a birthday kiss?”
The gesture was simple. It was the kind of moment that shouldn’t require this much thought.
But it did. Because it wasn’t just a kiss.
It would be a choice. A step forward that, in the moment, felt a lot bigger than it probably should.
Still… I leaned in. Because I told myself I was going to try.
And for a moment, I let myself believe that trying might actually be enough.
I didn’t give myself time to overthink it.
If I had, I already knew I would’ve pulled back before it even happened, and I was tired of second-guessing every step forward like I didn’t deserve to take one.
So instead, I leaned in, closing that small space between us.
I let my lips meet his before I could talk myself out of it.
At first, it was exactly what it was supposed to be.
His lips were soft, and his movement was careful and controlled.
His lips moved against mine like he had been waiting for this, like he was trying to get it right, and for a moment, I let myself settle into it.
I let myself exist in something that wasn’t complicated, something that didn’t come with history or confusion or emotions that I didn’t know how to organize.
That was what normal was supposed to feel like.
That was what I had told myself I needed.
But then something altered. It was subtle at first, and I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I weren’t overthinking everything.
It was the way his hand came up to my cheek, the way his fingers pressed just a little firmer than necessary, like he was trying to keep me there instead of just being in the moment with me.
The kiss deepened without him giving me a chance to follow, like he was deciding the pace instead of reading me.
And just like that, I felt myself start to pull back.
Not physically, not yet, but internally.
That quiet instinct that sat in the pit of my stomach started whispering before I could even fully process why.
Then Cornelius’s other hand moved. It slid from his lap to my thigh, resting there for a second like he was testing the waters, like he was waiting to see if I would say something.
My body stiffened almost immediately. The reaction was automatic, but I didn’t panic.
I just shifted slightly, thinking maybe he would get the hint without me having to say anything.
He didn’t because his grip tightened. It wasn’t aggressive, but it wasn’t gentle either.
It was just poised enough to feel like he thought this was okay.
That I was okay with it. And that was when I pulled back a little.
My lips barely left his as I said his name, trying to slow things down without making it a whole situation.
“Cornelius…”