4. Legacy
CHAPTER 4
LEGACY
S unday morning, as I prepared myself and the kids for an afternoon at Top Golf and the arcade, Zara realized she'd left her bookbag at home. Feeling the exhaustion from the chaotic event I'd secured the night before, I knew that after kicking it with the kids, I would want to go straight home. So, I decided to get it before we headed to Top Golf. The private event had been an album-release party for a local rapper named Stylz who was barely eighteen. It had been a long night, dealing with fights and rowdy teenagers. I had broken up multiple fights and physically put out three people who thought they were somehow stronger than me. So, I was physically drained.
On the way to Top Golf, I made the quick detour to Bless' place. As I pulled up to the building, I could feel the exhaustion settling deeper into my bones.
“I’ll be right back,” I told the kids, who sat in the back rows of my Escalade.
They barely acknowledged me, their attention glued to their phones. I contemplated taking their phones away for the day. I knew that they would have a fit, specifically Eden, but it was needed to truly spend quality time with them.
I climbed out of the truck and hit a light jog. After approaching Bless' building, I rang the bell marked "Trimble" and waited to be buzzed in. The familiar click of the security door signaled my entry, and I made my way up to the third floor.
As I approached Bless' apartment, I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Stepping inside, I was immediately greeted by the intoxicating aroma of her perfume. Hints of apple, grapefruit, and sweet magnolia harassed me. It was like a siren's call, drawing me in with its alluring scent. I felt a violently strong surge of desire rushing through my veins straight to my dick.
Before I could recover, Bless appeared from around the corner. Her presence commanded my attention. She held Zara's bookbag in her hand as she made her way towards me with haste.
I inhaled sharply at the sight of her. The vision of her felt like an honorable mention. Dressed in a fitted royal blue dress that hugged every curve, Bless looked stunning. The striking color emphasized her chocolate skin that was too delicate for even Willie Wonka to find. The dress accentuated her ample curves, drawing attention to her mouthwatering figure. Paired with heels that elongated her thick legs, she looked like a thoroughbred stallion, graceful and powerful.
She was intoxicating, filling my senses with longing and desire that was impossible to ignore. I was spellbound, unable to resist her pull.
As she closed the space between us, Bless handed me Zara's bookbag. Her gaze barely met mine.
"You look amazing, Bless.” My usual deep rumble was soft with amazement and sincerity.
Her reaction was nervous jittering that I hadn't seen in her in a long time. "T-thank you.” Her words were rushed and clipped. Eager to rush me out, her movements were hurried and tense. “I-I… um… I-I have t-to hurry. I’m running late.”
I wanted to ask her where she was going, to pry, but I knew it wasn't my place. Instead, I tamped down the rising tide of jealousy and insecurity that was successfully consuming me. The assumption that she was going out with another man was conjuring up fear and anxiety that felt like death.
So, filled with defeat, I made my way towards the door. But as Bless closed it behind me, her phone rang, and I couldn't help but linger in the hallway, straining to hear the conversation.
"I'm on my way," a man's voice said through the closed door.
My heart sank like a stone in my chest. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I had to steady myself against the wall. The swimming of my stomach made me double over, bracing myself with my hands on my knees.
I had known that Bless would eventually move on, but now it was right in my face, making it impossible to ignore. And as I stood there in the hallway, listening to the sound of her sweet voice drifting away from the door, I couldn't help but feel like I'd lost something precious, something I could never have again.
The weight of defeat settled heavily on my shoulders. I felt the familiar tug of overwhelming emotions—the same ones I used to numb with opioids. But I knew better now. I couldn't allow myself to spiral back into that darkness after all the progress I'd made.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation of my breath entering and leaving my body. It was a grounding technique my therapist had taught me, a way to bring myself back to the present moment when my thoughts threatened to overwhelm me.
Next, I shifted my focus to my surroundings, taking in the details of the hallway—the pattern of the wallpaper, the texture of the carpet beneath my Jordan 1’s. It was another technique my therapist had recommended, a way to redirect my attention away from intrusive thoughts and back to reality.
But despite my efforts, I couldn't shake the feeling of loss and defeat that threatened to consume me. It was as if my worst fears had been realized. Maybe moving back to Chicago had been a mistake and the constant reminder of losing Bless would become too triggering.