Prologue #3
“ Differently? ” Orielle’s voice sharpened just slightly. “You mean like not ghosting me while you played house with somebody else?”
He looked down with no excuse ready.
“I didn’t know how to explain it,” he mumbled. “Everything happened so fast. She told me she was pregnant, and I panicked. You and I… we were complicated.”
“No,” she hissed, ready to give it to him straight. “ You were a coward. We weren’t complicated. You just didn’t have the balls to tell me the truth like a man.”
“What would telling you the truth have done? You still would’ve left me,” Bobby said, pathetically.
Of course, she would’ve. Being broken up with without an explanation, only to find out you were cheated on and the nigga had a baby on you was grounds for Orielle to leave.
There was no way he thought she’d stick around because she loved him at one point.
Love wasn’t enough... obviously. Staying would’ve meant she didn’t love herself.
“I wanted to reach out,” he added after a beat. “I thought about you every day.”
Orielle looked at him long and hard.
Then she laughed. For real this time.
That low, bitter kind of laugh that comes from a place of a weak ass man having you fucked up and from a place of her finally being done. She wouldn’t call it being okay but seeing him today was the icing on the cake.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Bobby. You thought about the guilt. Not me.”
He stepped forward. “Ori, I just?—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t. You don’t get to spew some lame excuse to me. I don’t even want one. It’s clear that you weren’t the man for me, and I’ve come to terms with that. You’re lucky you even get to have a conversation with me. Cherish it, because it’ll be the last.”
His mouth opened again, but she was already walking away.
He had dismissed her and her feelings like they meant nothing, so Orielle was returning the favor.
She exited the room without giving him a second glance and silently applauded herself for holding it together.
All the hurt and anger she felt was about to bleed through her pen and voice.
In a sense, she finally felt free from what and who had been holding her back.
Months Later
T his was the third and final destination of the night, whether her girls wanted it to be or not.
Patio Restaurant the list was ridiculous.
The caption stated that the baby had been born six hours prior. Which meant he was playing in Orielle’s face hard when he tried to talk to her earlier that week.
“You good?” Zoey asked, eyes narrowing.
Orielle had zoned out that quickly. “Yeah. Just thinking. I have a studio session in the morning.”
Cheyla pouted. “We can head out. You parked at my place anyway, right?”
“Yeah.”
Zoey was already pulling out her phone. “I’ll call the ride. You know I don’t play that drinking and driving mess.”
None of them did. Thankfully, there were plenty of car services that would get them home safely.
After mingling for twenty minutes and using the restroom, they made their way outside.
The bass from the club still pulsed in Orielle’s chest as they stepped out into the warm, sticky night air.
A black Denali with tinted windows and fresh black rims smoothly pulled up to the entrance where they stood.
Echelon Express was stamped across the back, in bold matte gold letters. Orielle raised a brow.
“Is this that Black-owned car service?”
“Yep,” Zoey answered as her heels clicked against the concrete.
Orielle tried to remember who had mentioned the business to her, but the liquor in her system made it difficult for her to recall.
Cheyla smirked. “I heard they only hire fine ass men to drive, so this should be fun.”
Before they could open the door, the driver’s side opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out.
Orielle was still giggling, but her breath caught in her throat when the driver emerged.
She wasn’t expecting him to be so... mothafuckin’ fine.
Those were the only two words her tequila-filled brain could muster.
His towering frame, with rich mocha skin glowing under the streetlight, coal-black deep waves, a groomed low-cut beard, and dark plush lips, had Orielle openly ogling him without shame.
Dressed in all black, seemingly his color, the driver pulled the back door open and greeted them, “How y’all ladies doing tonight?”
His voice was so smooth and deep. Orielle blinked and squinted. The more she assessed him, something about him became far too familiar. When he looked at her, it all made sense.
“Najee?” Orielle said his name with a sureness that made him give her his undivided attention.
Recognizing his best friend Saleem’s cousin, Najee smiled, showcasing a set of pretty ass white teeth. “Lil’ RiRi from the block. What’s good, girl?”
Naturally, the two embraced. Orielle was sure it was meant to be friendly, but the way his scent wrapped her up, too, made her want to hold on for a second longer.
It was alluring and teased her senses while causing her throat to dry a little.
Najee was the first person to start calling her RiRi, and she couldn’t help but smile as they hugged.
Damn, he smells good , she thought as they separated.
“Nothing much.” Orielle smiled. “Just enjoying a night out.”
Najee took her in and appreciatively shook his head.
There wasn’t anything little about Orielle anymore; not from his view.
Though slim from the front with a tight core, pierced belly, hip dips, and B-cup breasts, she had toned thighs and a plump little ass that sat up nicely.
Orielle’s body was an illusion until she turned to the side, or you saw her from the back.
Besides her shape, Najee couldn’t get over her beauty. She prettier than a mothafucka , he thought to himself.
Orielle possessed the type of beauty that women and men alike gushed over and couldn’t help but compliment.
Her dewy, cinnamon-hued complexion, brown almond-shaped eyes with long lashes, and full lips made him want to stare all day.
A lacy white top peeked out from beneath an unbuttoned red and white striped shirt, and a layered gold necklaces rested against her coconut-oiled chest. Strands of her light and dark brown hair framed her face in bouncy, voluminous layers.
Inside the spot, oversized shades covered her eyes, but now they rested atop her head. Najee was appreciative of that.