Chapter 1
“I WOULDN’T BE DOING THIS IF YOU HADN’T SUGGESTED IT.”
One Year & Months Later
H er loft was always the quietest at this time of morning.
Too quiet, just like Orielle preferred it.
The digital clock on her nightstand read 4:36 am.
Most of the city still slept beyond the wide windows, while streetlights flickered in orange hues, casting long shadows on her hardwood floors. She liked this version of the world. Before the chaos, before texts and to-do lists flooded her phone. It was just her, her thoughts, and the stillness.
Orielle sat crisscross on her tan futon, with a journal in her lap.
She’d scribbled words that only made sense in her brain but came out as a jumbled mess on the pages.
That was the beauty of storytelling. It didn’t all have to make sense right then, but it would.
Somewhere in the scattered lyrics, there was clarity.
Her pen tapped against the paper in a slow rhythm, matching the faint hum of her diffuser releasing lavender mist into the air.
A half cup of green tea with the lightest squeeze of honey sat untouched on the marble side table.
Orielle pulled the fleece throw tighter around her shoulders and exhaled through her nose.
Something was off, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.
Grabbing her phone, Orielle unlocked it and navigated to her calendar.
She racked her brain thinking of the significance of the date.
Then, it hit her. Today had everything to do with why she woke up twenty-three minutes before her alarm went off, why her chest was tight, and why everything felt so strange.
One year ago today, her world had been flipped upside down.
She hated anniversaries.
They were reminders of what could’ve been done differently.
Orielle never forgot the sound of Najee’s voice. Even now, a full year later, she could still hear it. The way it commanded everything in its presence, letting it be known he wasn’t to be fucked with. That she wasn’t to be fucked with.
“Aye, cuz. You heard what she said. Let her go.”
Orielle shuddered, reminiscing. That was all Najee had to say before everything went left.
The moment etched itself into her brain. The echo of it lived in her ribcage. She replayed it over and over in her mind so many times that she didn’t even need to close her eyes to relive it. It was there like a scar that refused to fade, no matter the amount of faded cream she applied.
Najee didn’t hesitate to step in that night, and for that, she was beyond grateful.
It wasn’t revealed until the following morning how Bobby knew she’d be at Cheyla’s place.
He’d stopped by Orielle’s loft first and didn’t see her car, then watched Cheyla’s story.
The girls had all pre-gamed there, so he knew where she’d be by the end of the night.
She remembered the scent of Hennessy clinging to Bobby’s breath. The way her heart had pounded, not out of love, but anger and fear. She hadn’t been scared of him before, but that night changed everything.
Especially for Najee.
He didn’t ask questions or wait to figure out who was in the wrong. Orielle wished he would’ve. Maybe things would’ve played out differently.
After the night Najee was arrested, Orielle shut down.
Not for long, but emotionally, she detached from everything and everyone.
Disappearing felt like the best option. She needed time to figure out her life because in her mind, she was the problem.
While she wanted to be there for Najee, she ended up ghosting him.
Not intentionally, but Orielle had to keep it real with herself.
He was behind bars because of her. One minute, she promised herself she’d be there, and the next, weeks turned to months without any effort to check on him directly.
The weight of what he’d sacrificed for her became too much to hold.
Plus, Najee had a woman. Orielle didn’t want to stir up any more mess than she already had.
But this morning, her mind was in a different place.
A better space. With so many distractions removed from her life, she had more time to focus on the music.
Her recently released EP, channeling her hurt, frustration, and optimism to new love, tripled her fanbase and listening hours.
It was one thing to let the pain consume her, but Orielle flipped the script and progressed off it.
Now knowing why she was triggered, Orielle’s words began to flow like lava. They burned the pages of her notebook with revenge and a yearning to release it all. Her hand didn’t stop until the sun appeared two hours later. Yawning, she flipped through the pages of lyrics and smiled, genuinely.
“I feel much better,” she said, and stood.
Stretching, she grabbed her yoga mat and commenced with her morning routine.
By the time she was done, showered, and in her kitchen making breakfast, Najee was still on her mind.
Not keeping up with him was the safest way to keep her mind at ease, or so she thought.
Chewing a boiled egg sprinkled with Lawry’s total seasoning and cayenne pepper, she scrolled through her text messages.
Stopping at Saleem’s name, Orielle sighed. She hadn’t talked to him much either.
Guilt had a way of making you ghost the people who reminded you of the worst parts of yourself.
Orielle knew that to be true. She witnessed it with her own eyes and lived it.
Was she ashamed of her behavior? No. It took courage to identify who you no longer wanted to be.
So much had held her back in life, mainly herself, and Orielle vowed to no longer live that way.
Walking in her own shadows of doubt and regret had no place in her life.
Her thumb hovered over Saleem’s number. She knew he was up. He was an early riser just like her. Before she could tap the call icon, an incoming call from Cheyla came through. Smiling, Orielle answered.
“Hello.”
“Good morning, sunshine,” Cheyla greeted.
Orielle chuckled. “Good morning to you, too. You’re in a good mood.”
“As I should be. I just got the best dick of my life this morning. I feel like I can run a marathon.”
“Wait,” Orielle said, laughing. “You let him spend the night after all that shit you were talking?”
Cheyla sighed so dramatically. “No. I stayed the night at his place. I’m still here.”
“That man left you in his house?” Orielle couldn’t believe it.
After the way she’d cursed him out and told him to stop calling her phone, Orielle was sure he was going to cut her off.
“You sound so surprised.” Cheyla laughed.
“Because I am. Y’all are funny.”
“Or in love. Either way, I’m snuggled under the covers until I have to go to work. What’re you up doing?”
Washing her hands, Orielle dried them and tossed the paper towel in the trash. “Just finished eating breakfast and probably about to take a nap.”
“You’ve been up thinking again.”
“Thinking and working. Thank you very much,” Orielle said, maneuvering to her living room.
Her open floor plan gave her the perfect view of downtown Kansas City. Some nights, she’d sit out on her balcony and just thank God. Life hadn’t been easy, but she’d made it this far. The simple things, like enjoying the decorated night sky in a place she could call her own, was priceless.
“What were you up thinking about?” Cheyla asked. “Talk to big mama.”
Grinning softly, Orielle stared out at the morning traffic. “Najee.”
“Really? Where’d he pop up from?”
“My dreams. I woke up much earlier than my alarm and then realized what today was once I looked at my calendar. It’s been a year today since all of that went down at your place.”
Cheyla exhaled on the other end. “Damn. It’s really been that long? It feels like yesterday.”
“Right.”
The silence settled between them for a beat. Both were lost in what had occurred back then. So much had changed, but some things were still the same.
“You know what happened wasn’t your fault, right?”
Orielle understood that now, but she struggled on some days to come to terms with that. Najee had lost his freedom for protecting her.
“Yeah, but I still feel bad, you know? That man went to jail because of my drama,” Orielle said.
“I mean... yes and no. He went to jail because he was on probation and had a gun on him. That technically was his fault.”
Orielle wanted to defend him but let it go. There were way too many scenarios that could’ve played out, but they hadn’t. The one they were in did, so she left it alone.
“Yeah... I hear you.”
“If you really feel so bad, have Saleem tell him to call you,” Cheyla suggested, yawning.
Her post-sex sleepiness was kicking in. Orielle’s brows dipped.
“Call me for what?”
“So you can apologize, I guess. Isn’t that what you want to do? I know you. It’ll take some of that weight off that you’re feeling today. And you can just hear him out. I’m sure he doesn’t blame you. He’s a grown man.”
Orielle was listening to what she was saying but not fully hearing her. Checking on him through Saleem was one thing. Having him relay a message to have Najee call was an entirely different ball game Orielle wasn’t sure she was ready to go up to bat with.
“You know what’s crazy? I was just about to call Saleem before you called me,” she explained.
“See! It was meant to be. Call him. What will it hurt? I’m sure he’d be happy to know you want to talk. You know them niggas in jail be too happy to talk someone’s ear off.” Cheyla chuckled.
Orielle knew nothing about that, but she was about to find out. “We’ll see. Get some rest. You’ve yawned in my ear twenty times,” she said, chuckling.
“Whew. I’m sorry. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to work.”
“Okay. And thank you for the push. Lord knows I wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t suggested it.”
“That’s what friends are for. Love you!
“Love you more.”
Hanging up, Orielle exhaled. Her days of needing validation or reassurance were few and far between.
She only asked opinions from those she could trust to give her a real answer and nothing sugarcoated.
It was okay to see a situation from someone else’s perspective, but ultimately, the decision was hers.
She stared at Saleem’s name for a while and dialed his number before she could change her mind. He never switched up during this whole ordeal, and for that, Orielle would always cherish their relationship and the real nigga he was.
“Hello,” Saleem answered on the third ring.
His background let her know that he had already gotten his day started.
“Hey, cousin. It’s Ori.”
Saleem chuckled. “I know. You’re number is saved.”
“Oh.” Orielle chuckled. “Right.”
“Yeah. So, what’s up? Good morning. How you feeling?”
Orielle smiled. Saleem had such a positive energy, it immediately shifted her dampened mood. He didn’t let the time she ignored his calls and texts sway the love he had for her.
“Good morning. I’m feeling like I let too much time pass between us, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Saleem heard the emotion in her tone, but it didn’t sound like the last time they talked.
He knew Orielle to be in tune with her emotions like most women, so when everything went down, she had cried more days than she could remember.
Saleem didn’t hear any threat of tears spilling this morning.
Her words were firm and from a place of love, like always.
“You know you don’t have to apologize for taking care of you. We were gon’ chop it up when you were ready,” Saleem assured.
“True, but I didn’t have to ignore you. I know you were just checking on me.”
“It’s all good. You straight, though?”
Orielle closed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Kinda. Not really.”
Saleem paused what he was doing. “What’s the matter?”
“I never really got a chance to tell Najee how sorry I was for that night. Or anything really. I know you probably talk to him more than anyone, so I wanted to know if you could give him my number the next time he calls.”
She had to blurt everything out at once so she wouldn’t clam up. Even through her rushed tone, Saleem heard her. He also heard everything she wasn’t saying. He felt it through the phone. Before Saleem could respond, she spoke again.
“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I understand. He probably doesn’t want to talk to me, and I get that. I just...”
“Yo, Ori. You overthinking. You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. It was a lot. But I know G. He a real nigga, and I know he still got love for you no matter what.”
She exhaled a shaky breath.
“Okay,” she whispered. His words made her feel much more optimistic. “If you could, give him my number. Tell him if he ever wants to talk, I’m here.”
Saleem let out a low breath and lightly smiled. “I got you. I know he’ll be happy you wanted him to reach out.”
“Really?” she asked, voice rising an octave.
“Yeah. I don’t know why you sound so surprised. You get them letters he sent you?” Saleem asked.
Orielle wanted to lie, but that wasn’t in her character. “Mhmm. Yeah, I still have them.”
Saleem wanted to ask why she had only written him back once, but that wasn’t his business. Najee had only brought it up to him once and never spoke about it again.
“A’ight. Well, when I hear from him, I’ll tell him to call you. I’m about to load this truck up.”
Orielle sighed. “Okay. Thank you. I’ma make my way up to the juicery this week to see you.”
“Yeah. Be sure you do that. I need to lay eyes on you. And not at me and Amira’s wedding celebration.”
She’d gotten the invitation in the mail and didn’t hesitate to RSVP.
“Okay. I can do that,” she let him know.
“Good. Got me out here waiting for you to respond to me like I’m one of your fans,” Saleem joked, making Orielle laugh.
“Oh, whatever. You know I love you, cousin.”
“I love you, too, Ori. Be safe, a’ight?”
“You too. See you later.”
When she hung up, the oversized shirt she wore was damp and clinging to her skin.
A sure sign that her nerves had almost gotten the best of her during their call.
Standing from her couch, Orielle stepped into her bedroom, stripped from her shirt, and replaced it with a tank top.
The weight and heaviness she once felt no longer existed.
The only thing that replaced it was anxiousness.
She didn’t know how frequently Najee was allowed to use the phone, but she hoped Saleem’s message didn’t take too long to get relayed. Until then, she was about to take the best nap of her life and restart her day at the studio. All those lyrics she wrote this morning had to get put to use somehow.