Chapter 14
“HARD FACTS BUT NEEDED TRUTHS.”
“ I t can’t be this hard to pick out flowers,” Najee mumbled to himself.
With a concentrated look on his face, he scratched his head, contemplating. Standing in the aisle of Petals On The Plaza downtown, he felt overwhelmed by the array of arrangements.
Having been in a relationship for five years, technically four since he’d gotten cheated on for one of them, one would think he’d be a pro at choosing a bouquet. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.
All it took was for Renae to tell him one time that she didn’t care for him to buy her flowers, and Najee never did again. She hadn’t crossed his mind in so long, but right then, Najee couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at his naivety.
He should’ve known what was up the day he was released and spotted the vase of roses on the table. She hadn’t come down with a damn cold; she’d gotten a baby sucked out of her. Najee wouldn’t have been surprised if the card attached to it, telling her to get well, had been from a man.
That was the past, though, and Renae would remain a nonfactor. Najee may not have known much about peonies or lilies, or the season when tulips bloom, but he remembered Orielle mentioning the color of roses she liked.
“White roses because they looked so pure and peaceful,” Najee said aloud, recalling her words. “Like her.” He smirked.
“Hi. Are you looking for anything specific today?” a florist wearing a hunter green collar shirt asked.
Najee glanced her way. “Hey. What’s going on. I’m looking for some white roses. I wanted to add some color to them, but I should probably just stick to them by themselves, huh?”
She chuckled, nodding. “You can. They can stand out on their own. We have two kinds. The vase life of one type can last up to eleven days, while the other type can last up to three years,” she explained.
He nodded, not needing to be sold on any other kind if there was one. “Let’s go with the ones that last up to three years. That’s some new shit?”
The florist chuckled. “No, sir. The history of preserved roses dates back to the 1970s.”
As she gave him a history lesson, Najee followed her toward the front of the store.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get her the thirty solid white roses in a gold box, the ones that came with gardenias, or the small vase that held four roses inside.
Knowing he needed to get home before Orielle left, Najee told her to package all of them up.
He went with lavender for the smaller four-set.
Just as he handed over the money, the shop’s door chimed.
Out of habit, Najee looked behind him. It was the middle of the day on a random Tuesday, but that never mattered to the reckless, scheming niggas in his city.
He used to be one of them and still considered a few of the youngsters his ‘lil’ homies’.
Not in a flunky, lil’ boy, make-a-store-run manner, but one where Najee was considered an older brotherly figure. Not all could be taken under his wing, though.
They’d rob a floral shop, just like they’d rob the bank across the street. A hungry nigga with no guidance never gave a fuck, and Najee never wanted to get caught lacking.
The person who stood behind him, looking like they’d seen a ghost, deserved to get run down on, though. Najee had the right mind to make a call and have some young, thoroughbred girls from the hood, who fought for sport, come and beat her ass. But life looked like it had already done that.
Renae looked nothing like the woman he had once known.
Her once-flawless lace fronts were now a disheveled, struggling ponytail.
Dark circles sat beneath her eyes like she hadn’t had a wink of sleep in months.
Dull skin was covered by faded leggings and an oversized hoodie that hung off her once-thick frame.
She looked like she had gotten dressed in the dark.
Her lips were dry and cracked, and Najee knew she had to feel some sort of relief when she licked them before speaking to him.
“Um... hey, Najee.”
His forehead dented at her meek tone. Renae’s entire demeanor was different. She’d never been the nervous, quiet type. She was fidgety as hell. She kept tugging on her sleeve, and her eyes kept darting around the shop like she was waiting for someone to jump out.
Man, I know this girl ain’t on drugs , Najee thought.
“Hey, Renae!” the girl, who’d been helping Najee, said.
Renae gave her a closed-mouth smile. “Hi, Precious.”
“You here for your usual?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay. Let me finish ringing him up, and I got you. How’s your sister holding up?”
A wave of sadness washed over her face, and Najee hadn’t cared before, but he wanted to know what the hell was up.
“Um... she’s doing okay,” she answered, and the girl gave her a sad smile.
The truth was, Renae hadn’t seen Kelli in months and had no clue the status of her health.
“What’s wrong with your sister?” Najee found himself asking.
“She’s dying.”
Renae’s answer was so dry and clear-cut, he felt like she’d punched him in the throat.
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.” And he was.
After their breakup, Kelli had still been nothing but kind to him even after Najee embarrassed her sister. She’d even apologized on her behalf. So, hearing that she was dying disturbed his spirit. She was good people, and life could be so unfair.
Kelli had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and only had weeks to live, if that.
The aggressive disease hadn’t been detected and spread to her other organs, making it unresectable.
Renae’s family had started a GoFundMe to try and cover hospital bills, but they knew what the outcome would be.
Najee had been so far removed from her life and everyone in it, he had no clue about any of this.
“Yeah... me, too,” she said, and almost jumped out of her skin when the door chimed.
Renae almost broke her neck to see who had entered the shop, and then it hit Najee.
He thought her jittery movements were because of him or from doing drugs, but it was from something he never would’ve expected.
Renae was getting abused. All the signs were there.
Had her actions not proved it, the massive bluish-purple bruise on her neck did.
Life hadn’t been putting its hands on her; the man she cheated on Najee with had been.
The karma of fucking over a good person was the asshole they ended up with.
Najee hated that the lyrics from the classic Soul Tape 2 by Fabulous popped up in his head, but they were the truest words ever. He never wished bad on Renae and had rightfully so talked his shit about her but seeing her like this cracked his chest completely open.
It was the same gut-wrenching ache he’d felt seeing Candice bruised and battered.
Then, he delivered a similar blow to his mama’s boyfriend that blew his chest open, too.
After years of repeatedly abusing his mama and then taking her life, Najee only saw it fitting to end his life as well.
Jail wasn’t and would never be enough in his eyes.
“Renae,” Najee said, and she slowly turned to face him.
She saw the confusion and protectiveness in his eyes, and it made her heart rate triple.
They silently read that he wanted answers but fiercely showed how angry he was.
At the end of the day, regardless of how they ended, he was a real man.
Had this been a different time, back when she was his, Najee would’ve made a decision that would have placed him back in jail.
That was the only reason he wouldn’t mind smiling in his mugshot for.
“Hmm?” Renae questioned in a hum.
“That nigga putting his hands on you?”
“No,” Renae said too quickly—defensively. “You know how my skin rashes up when it gets warm outside.”
Hearing lies and excuses for a man’s abusive behavior wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. It was still hard to digest, though. Najee cleared his throat.
“Right.”
“Yeah.” Renae sighed, breathing heavily. It was the loudest she’d been allowed to for months. Breathe too hard again, and I’ma make sure it’s the last breath you take. She replayed those words in her head and swallowed hard.
Najee really looked at her. Past the bruises, past the attire, past the lies, and past the woman who’d broken his trust. None of that mattered. She didn’t come there today expecting to see him, but Najee was glad they crossed paths.
Renae eyed him suspiciously when he dug in his pocket for his wallet. Grabbing a cream-colored card out of the inside, he extended it to her. She looked down at his hand, then back at his face.
“You don’t have to use it now, but whenever you’re ready to leave, they can help you.”
Renae blinked, forcing herself to keep her tears hidden.
“I see you’re trying to play Captain-Save-A-Hoe, again.” Her laugh was dry, forced, and shaky. Her jab, the same one from his party, didn’t land well. It hadn’t before when she came for Orielle, but now she used it jokingly to mask her pain.
“Nah. I’ve never done that before,” Najee answered.
She could take all the shots she wanted at him; it was never going to faze Najee. They may have ended on bad terms, but he would have rather seen her in the back of one of Echelon’s vehicles headed to Peace Haven than seeing her in a hearse.
Tucking her pride, Renae quickly reached for the card and slowly pulled it from his hand before tucking it away in the pocket of her hoodie.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
He knew he didn’t but telling him that wouldn’t change anything that happened between them.
Najee had already forgiven her before this moment, so it was nothing.
Renae’s lip slightly trembled. She wanted to cry for ruining what they had and what she was missing out on, but the girl at the counter saved the day.
She’d stepped away to answer the phone and to get their orders bagged.