Chapter 3
Solei
A Year & A Half Later
The diamond on my finger caught the afternoon light streaming through my office window, throwing fractured rainbows across the mahogany desk. It was three carats, emerald cut, and flawless clarity. Everything Darius did was flawless, including his credit, reputation, and intentions.
I pushed the thought away like I’d been doing for the entire six months of our relationship, focusing instead on the motion in front of me.
People v. Richardson. Another guilty man who needed my particular brand of salvation.
The evidence was circumstantial at best, and I could shred the prosecution’s timeline in my sleep.
This was what I did. What I’d always done.
I saved clients who probably didn’t deserve saving.
My phone buzzed against the desk with a text.
I stared at those three words like they were written in a language I used to speak fluently but had somehow forgotten.
Darius said them easily, like breathing.
He’d said them when he proposed a few days ago at his parents’ lake house, down on one knee in front of his mother’s prized rose garden.
The sunset was perfectly timed, and the ring was perfectly chosen.
I said ‘yes’, but I didn’t really know what the hell I was doing.
Was I supposed to feel more certain–more in love, more like someone with answers?
Lately, I’d been drifting through moments that should have mattered.
I couldn’t shake the numbness, and the gap between Darius's certainty and my confusion seemed to grow every time he said those words.
I typed back quickly, trying to anchor myself in work mode.
No ‘I love you’ in return. He never seemed to notice. Truthfully, I was meeting my girls for drinks, and I’ll be damned if I was canceling. I needed it.
A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts. “Knock knock, counselor.” My paralegal, Janae, leaned against the doorframe, her box braids swept over one shoulder, eyes sharp as ever. “You ready for the Richardson prelim?”
“Born ready.” I closed the file, straightening papers that didn’t need straightening. “What’s the word on the street about our client?”
Janae’s look shifted. “You sure you wanna know?”
“I never want to know. I always need to know.”
She stepped in and closed the door. “He’s tied to Kingside.”
“Money’s old crew,” I said flatly, like the name didn’t send electricity down my spine. Like I hadn’t thought about him every single day for the last eighteen months and sixteen days. Not that I was counting.
“Old crew?” Janae raised an eyebrow. “Girl, you know better than that. Money is still running things even if he is behind the scenes these days.”
I did know better. I knew exactly what Money was capable of hiding.
I’d witnessed plenty of it when we were together, back when I thought love was supposed to burn hot enough to destroy everything in its path.
“Richardson’s case has nothing to do with Money,” I said, more to convince myself than her.
“If you say so.” Janae’s eyes dropped to my hand, to the ring that suddenly felt heavy as a shackle. “That’s new.”
“It happened on Sunday night.”
“And you’re just now telling me?” She moved closer, grabbing my hand to inspect the diamond. “Damn, Darius came through. This is gorgeous, Solei. Congratulations, girl.”
“Thanks.” The words felt hollow in my mouth. Why couldn’t I be excited like everyone expected?
“You told the kids yet?”
My chest tightened. “They’re with their father until Sunday, remember?”
Janae’s expression softened. She’d been with me for the last five years, long enough to know about a lot, including the children.
Montana Jr. was thirteen, and my baby girl, Solina, had just turned seven.
We rotated weeks–Sunday to Sunday. Holidays were split down the middle.
At birthday parties, we stood on opposite sides of the room, pretending the air between us wasn’t thick enough to choke on.
“How you think Money’s gonna take it?” Janae asked carefully.
“Honestly, I don’t care how he takes the engagement. We’ve been separated for a year and a half. He doesn’t get a vote.”
“Solei.” Janae’s voice dropped low. “That man has not gotten over you. He’s just waiting and plotting. You know that better than anybody. He always gets what he wants.”
I pulled my hand back, the ring catching light again. “Well, Money wanted me to stay, and I left.”
“You separated. Y’all are not divorced. You technically haven’t moved on.”
“Hello?” I flashed my engagement ring. “I’ve moved on, Janae,” I said firmly.
“Darius and I have been together for six months. He’s good for me.
He’s stable, and everything about him is legitimate.
He doesn’t have bitches all over town, bodies buried in his past, or enemies who’d put bullets in our children to get to him. He’s…”
“Not Money,” Janae finished. “Yeah, I get it. But seriously, are you saying ‘yes’ to Darius because you really love him, or are you just forcing yourself to not love Money?”
The question hung between us and the silence was deafening.
Janae studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
“Exactly, counselor. Listen to your heart, not your head.” She headed for the door, then paused.
“Oh, and you can be tough all you want to, but uh… you might wanna tell Money you’re engaged yourself before he hears it on the street. You know how things will get.”
Oh, I knew exactly how Money got, which is why my stomach had been tight since the ring had been placed on my finger.