Real Love Demands Surrender

Chapter 1

ONE

August is hell, actually purgatory. Between eleven thousand returning students, fourteen hundred incoming freshmen, privileged tenured faculty, and barely committed adjunct faculty, I’m a walking ball of stress for the entire month of August. As the dean of the largest program at the prestigious HBCU Crescent Falls University, the bulk of August’s madness falls on me and my department.

CFU undergraduate studies has six academic programs: Malcolm Redmond College of Arts and Sciences, Susie King Taylor College of Education, Mary Jackson College of Engineering, William H.

Hastie College of Juvenile Justice, Mary Eliza Mahoney College of Nursing, and CJ Walker College of Business.

My program, business, is the largest. Thirty-five percent of the student population are business majors, which translates to an inundation of emails, calls, and long ass lines the days and weeks leading up to the new fall semester every August.

“Dean Morris,” my executive academic assistant Lexie says as she enters my office. “The food and drinks are all set up. I just need you to sign this receipt and add a tip. The delivery driver is waiting.”

“You can sign and just give them my usual twenty-five percent. A La Carte is always on point. I’m going to be another five minutes; I need to change these last two slides of my presentation,” I say while still concentrating on my laptop screen.

“Oh, and please send out the group message to the faculty. They can go ahead and start eating.”

“Half of them are already in there,” she says and that causes me to lift my head because I do not eat food that has been breathed on and picked over by too many hands.

“How long have I been your E.A.? Five years,” she asks and answers.

“I know you and I already fixed both of our plates before I let any of them in,” she adds immediately, knowing me so well.

“They’re on my desk. I’m just going to eat after the meeting. ”

“Me too. I’m not eating until afterwards either. You can bring the plates in here and thank you.”

Because I probably spend more hours here than I do in my own home, my office has all the amenities I need to get through my hectic but rewarding days.

Growing up in The Manor, in a one-bedroom apartment with my mom and older sister, I had dreams like any child but they weren’t as big as my current reality.

My office is bigger than the living room that doubled as me and my sister’s bedroom.

Every morning when I walk in here and I see my three degrees on the wall behind my elegant beige and gold L-shaped desk, I beam with pride.

I beat the odds. After earning my bachelor's degree, I continued to earn both my master’s and Ph.D. I’m a homeowner in the neighborhood I dreamed about as a child. It’s not the biggest house in Chandler Heights, but it’s the one I love, the one I designed, and the one of which I possess the deed.

“You’re welcome, but do you need me to take anything to the meeting for you?” Lexie asks, reclaiming my attention.

“No. I think I have everything. You can head over if you want; I’ll be right behind you,” I tell her and she nods.

Crescent Falls University is near and dear to my heart.

It was here that I truly recognized my full potential and started to become the woman I am today.

So, sitting in this office, holding the prestigious job of dean at my three-time alma mater is a dream come true and full circle moment.

I don’t take this honor lightly. When I step foot on this campus, my students, faculty, and team are my top priority.

Even though August is a beast, I treasure all of the stress that comes with it.

After reviewing my presentation one final time, I close my laptop, grab my DAZ tumbler and fill it with honey and my tea of the month, butterfly pea infused hibiscus tea.

This is my fifth year as the university official for the Beta Mu Chapter of my beloved sorority Delta Alpha Zeta, and for my anniversary, the chapter gifted me a membership to the Nubian Tea Club.

Delicious, infused tea leaves arrive at my office each month and I have to admit this one is my favorite so far.

When I walk into the lecture room I reserved for today’s faculty meeting, Lexie is seated at one of the two tables up front, set up and ready to take notes.

My professors are all present, seated, and enjoying the catered lunch of chicken and lamb gyros, hummus, Greek salad, and baklava.

After queuing up my presentation, I welcome new and returning faculty then start the ice breaker exercise.

Normally, faculty meetings last an hour, but with this being the first one of the semester, it lasts two.

I’m starving by the time I’m back in my office, so after washing my hands, I warm the food Lexie set aside and sit in one of the high back cushion chairs in my seating area.

As I enjoy my food, I review the business program schedules.

I’m meticulous and proactive. I prefer to anticipate a problem and have the solution before it actually arises.

I spot check each course, lecture hall number, day, time, and assigned professor then send the final approved draft to the registrar.

As soon as I receive the email read receipt, my cell rings. It’s my mom.

“What’s up, lady?” I answer.

“Nothing really. Are you busy?” she asks pensively.

“No. You actually caught me at a good time. I just finished eating lunch.”

“Lunch at four o’clock? You should be getting off, not eating lunch at four.”

“I’m working late today. It’s pre-start week. I have a lot to do before classes actually begin. I’ll probably be here until almost seven.”

“It’s always start, pre-start, grades, and schedule with you. You work too damn hard. The school will be fine without you killing yourself.”

“Ma, it’s my job and I’m good. Normally, I’m off around five or six. It’s just weeks like these when I work a little late.”

“You work all day and night every week actually,” she counters. “What time did you go in this morning?”

“Is that why you called, to fuss about my working schedule?” I say with a grin, ignoring her question.

My mom rides me all the time about my hours and I curve her each and every time.

I love everything about my job. Why wouldn’t I?

I’m a Black woman Academic Dean of the largest program at a prestigious historically Black university that educates and shapes the lives of young Black men and women every day.

No other place could fill and overflow my cup like CFU.

“Actually, I didn’t,” she says and the somberness that overtakes her tone puts me on edge.

“What’s wrong, Momma? Are you okay?”

“I would be if my daughters would at least speak to each other. Kym is pregnant; she found out today,” she says.

At her words, anger instantly rises in my body, transitioning into a damn migraine. My hand raises to my forehead and I massage my throbbing temples. Just the mention of my mom’s other child sets me off.

“Momma, I gotta go. I’m not doing this with you,” I grit, biting my tongue to keep from saying what I really want to say.

“Rah-Rah, please, it’s your sister. You only have one. How long are you going to stay mad?”

“Really? Did you really just say that to me? She only had one sister and that didn’t stop her.

Look, Ma. I really have to go before I say some shit that hurts your feelings ’cause we both know why I don’t give a damn about your other child or her news.

I love you and goodbye, Ma,” I say and end the call as fast as my finger can move.

“I hate when she does that. Shit! Fuck family. My family fucked my damn husband!” I utter as I slam my laptop closed.

Some hurt cuts deep, but finding out that my older sister was fucking my husband is a hurt I don’t even wish on my worst enemy.

Six and a half years ago, I thought I’d married my forever.

The problem was, he didn’t. Six months into my marriage, I discovered that not only was Raquan cheating, but he was also sleeping with my own damn sister.

I had an easy day on campus, unusually easy, and decided to surprise my husband at his office at DK Trucking’s warehouse.

The ease of my normally hectic workday truly felt strange but I blew my feelings off.

I left early and I was going to make the best of it.

After leaving campus, I swung by our condo, took a shower, and changed out of my work suit.

Then, because I was a loving and considerate wife, I stopped by his favorite, Phat Fish, and ordered a three-piece catfish with grits and extra corn nuggets.

I envisioned a beautiful surprise lunch and an even more beautiful night with him later, once he got off. I was wrong, wrong as fuck.

My easy day on campus should have been my first sign.

Seeing Kym’s red Camry in the warehouse’s parking lot definitely should have been my second but I just brushed it off as a coincidence.

Crescent Falls isn’t that big and she could have been visiting anyone there. At least that’s what I told myself.

The third and final warning I missed was Raquan’s assistant’s unusual behavior and her insistence on announcing my surprise arrival.

That day wasn’t my first trip to his office, and during my previous trips, she’d never announced me.

I just walked my ass straight into his office.

That day she was interrupting like hell.

She even stood when I walked past her desk.

As soon as I opened his door, I knew why she was tripping.

My husband sat at his desk while my muthafucking sister was on his lap facing me and bouncing on his damn dick.

The sight disgusted, infuriated, and broke my damn heart all at the same damn time.

My older sister, the one I navigated my childhood with, shared secrets and grieved the loss of our dad with, was fucking who I believed was my forever.

Fueled by rage-filled adrenaline, I dropped the damn catfish meal and rushed his desk.

I was on Kym before she could completely get off his dick.

I blanked the hell out. I don’t remember seeing or hearing shit until my hands started hurting.

That pain brought me back to reality and Kym was under me screaming like a banshee as I beat her ass.

Raquan hooked his cheating arms under mine and yanked me off my sister.

As soon as I was on my feet, I shook myself free of his ass then turned and punched the shit out of him.

When I drew back to hit his lowdown ass again, I was stopped by security and dragged out of his office right into the custody of CFPD.

Blood doesn’t always equate to family. Kym proved that shit in the worst way possible but thank God for my chosen sisters.

My one call at the station was to my best friend, and then prominent defense attorney, Mireya.

I heard her designer heels before I saw her outside of the holding room.

Her face was tight; she was pissed and her words proved just how angry she was.

“I want my client out of here right now!” she demanded before spewing so much legalese that the officer had no choice but to comply.

I was released twenty minutes later, and thanks to Mireya, I never went back.

No charges were ever filed and my record is still clean.

However, my marriage ended and so did my relationship with my sister.

I don’t want her in my life and definitely don’t need her in it.

I’ve been blessed with three other sisters who love and care for me.

We have each other’s back and front through it all and I need them right now to unpack that call with my mom.

Thank God it’s Friday because I can definitely use some Friday Night Foolishness with my sister circle.

Years ago, we decided to carve out one day a week to decompress, unwind, and rejuvenate together.

That day was Friday. As four successful and hardworking Black women, we each have extremely busy and layered lives.

Giselle owns an exclusive escort service that services Crescent Falls’s elite, rich, and even famous.

Alex is a financial genius, CEO and owner of The Stansfield Investment Group, and minority owner of NBA champions, the Royals.

Mireya is a judge; the youngest on the bench in our district, actually.

We’re busy, very busy, but intentional, and every Friday night, we carve out the time for ourselves.

FNF is in three hours and these hours can’t go by fast enough.

I need to tell them about this shit!