Chapter 20
SOLEI
The gymnasium smelled like sweat and floor wax, and the bleachers were packed with parents and students.
It was Friday, and I was running late to Junior’s game after getting Solina from after school, but at least they hadn’t started yet.
At least I was well put together, considering everything going on.
I spotted Money immediately. I mean, he was impossible to miss, sitting in the center of the bleachers like a king holding court. He was wearing a black sweatsuit and a fitted hat, and even with it sitting low, I could feel his eyes on me.
“Daddy!” Solina anxiously waved at him, and he blew her a kiss back.
Darius’s hand tightened on mine. “He’s staring at you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” We found seats on the opposite side of the gym, as far from Money as possible, but it didn’t matter.
I could still feel the weight of his gaze and the pull of his presence.
Junior ran out onto the court with his team, and I forced myself to focus on my son. He looked so much like Money it hurt.
The game started, and I tried to pay attention, but I was hyperaware of every movement Money made. When he stood up to cheer for Junior, I noticed. When he pulled out his phone, I wondered who he was texting. When he laughed at something the woman next to him said, I felt a stab of jealousy.
“You okay?” Darius asked.
“Fine.”
“You seem distracted.”
“I’m just worried about Junior. He’s been off lately.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. This whole week, he’d been quieter than usual, retreating to his room with barely a word at dinner. I could see the hurt in his eyes as he struggled with the separation, the pressure of his grades, and the idea of me marrying someone who wasn’t his father.
Halfway through the game, I went to the bathroom with Solina.
She used the stall, then insisted on not missing any more of the game and rushed out.
While I was at the sink washing my hands, the door opened, and Money walked in.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. This is the women’s bathroom,” I said.
“I know.” He locked the door behind him.
“Montana…”
He moved closer until I felt the hard edge of the sink press against my lower back. His presence was overwhelming with heat, danger, and barely controlled fury. “You really brought that nigga to our son’s basketball game?" His voice was low, deadly, as he stared me down.
“He’s been wanting to come and…”
“I don’t give a fuck what that nigga wants.” Money’s hand came up, gripping my neck, forcing me to look at him. “You’re bein’ disrespectful as fuck bringin’ another man into our family space like I’m supposed to just accept that shit.”
“Money, please…” My body betrayed me, heat blooming low in my belly, breath unsteady, skin tingling where his hand pressed. Emotions tangled inside me–fear, anger, longing–burning beneath his touch.
He sucked on my bottom lip and released my neck. “Just remember what type of nigga I am. My power. My connections.” His smile was cold.
“What… what does that mean?” Someone knocked on the door. “Just… just a minute!” I called out, my voice shaking.
Money didn’t move. His hand stayed on my throat, eyes locked on mine. “I’ll see you after the game.” He let go, unlocked the door, and walked out, leaving me trembling against the sink.
“What the fuck?” I muttered to myself, reaching into my Gucci bag for my lip gloss. After making sure my breathing returned to normal and I looked presentable, I finally walked out of the bathroom. When I returned to the bleachers, Darius was watching me with suspicion.
“You were gone for a while.”
“My period started.” I lied, wishing he’d stop staring. “Can we just watch the game?” He didn’t push, but I felt his simmering frustration as his hand squeezed mine, like he was proving a point to Money.
Junior’s team won by ten points, and afterward, Money made his way down to the court to congratulate him.
I watched as he pulled Junior into a manly hug, ruffling his curls, and my heart clenched.
He was a good father. Whatever else he was, whatever mistakes he’d made, he loved our children fiercely.
“Ice cream?” Money called out to the kids.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Solina squealed, jumping up and down before walking on her tiptoes toward him.
Junior nodded at Darius, dapping him up. “What’s up?”
“Good game, Junior.”
He looked at me, asking permission with his eyes. “Can we go get ice cream?” he asked.
Darius’s hand tightened on my arm, his grip almost painful. “I, uh… I actually made dinner reservations for all of us.”
“I probably should go,” I murmured, voice catching as I tried to pull from Darius’s grip, glancing at the parents and kids filtering out of the gym. “For the kids.”
“Solei…” His other hand clamped onto my shoulder, trying to spin me to face him. “We need to talk about some things.”
“Aye, man,” Junior stepped in, towering over Darius. “Let go of my mom!”
“Junior, I’m fine. Go wait outside.”
“Ma…”
“Junior, go,” I said, voice tight. I watched Junior walk out of the gym, my chest prickling. Pulling my arm from Darius’s grip with a sharp jerk, I said, jaw clenched, “Don’t do that again, especially in front of my son.”
“I didn’t mean to be aggressive.” He spoke in a hushed voice. “I just… we need to talk, and you’ve been avoiding this conversation. I’m not…”
“Darius.” I stepped away from him, adjusting my bag on my wrist. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant. I won’t be long.”
“I don’t want you going with… him.”
“It’s ice cream with our children. That’s all.”
“Is it?” His eyes searched mine, already knowing the answer. I didn’t reply. Darius stared, jaw tight, shoulders squared. “Fine,” he said at last, voice tight. “Don’t be too late.”
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the now-quiet gymnasium. I made my way outside, stepping into the cool night air, where Money leaned against a brand new seven-seater BMW, arms folded across his chest. “Ready?" he asked, and the smile on his face was pure victory.