1. Roman Blake
My chest heaved as I shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, the scream dying in my throat.
My hand flew to the scar on my face, then to the empty space beside me, gripping the cold sheets.
Then everything came back to me. There was no Mo, and this was just another one of them fucked-up nightmares I’d been having for the past year.
I rolled over and eased out of bed. I walked to the window and looked out at the bright-ass sun shining in.
It was coming up on the anniversary of Mo’s death and what would’ve been our three-year anniversary, and it felt like my nightmares were getting worse.
I had been working day in and day out trying to keep my mind off the date, but grief don’t work like that. That kind of pain never really leaves.
I had thrown myself into business and making money.
Straight tunnel vision. I had made so much money off going numb and staying focused that sometimes I found myself wondering what all this shit was even for.
I still loved Mo with my whole heart. Still thought about her every day.
But I also knew I ain’t wanna be some old lonely man.
I still wanted kids. Still wanted somebody to leave my legacy to.
The ringing from my front camera broke me out of my thoughts, letting me know somebody was driving up my driveway. I walked over to my dresser and checked the screen. It was my brother Royce.
I made my way downstairs and opened the front door. Royce stood there looking like he had a lot on his mind.
“Fuck wrong wit you?” I asked, turning to walk off with him following behind me.
“Man, I’m getting married soon.”
I looked at this nigga like he was crazy.
“Nigga, I know,” I said with a chuckle. “Let me guess…you getting cold feet?”
“What if I fuck up?”
“Bro, you been with April for years, and she stayed down through your dumb ass shit. You asked her to marry you because you said you was ready. You are ready, right?”
“Of course I’m ready. I just hope I don’t fuck up.”
“If you ready, then stop overthinking. Ain’t nobody got all the answers. You just love her right and keep showing up.”
He nodded, letting that sink in.
“Now what’s up with your bachelor party?” I asked. “You still wanna do it at 4 Play?”
“Yeah, as long as it’s closed to the public.”
“I’ma do it at the smaller location over Philly, so yeah, it’ll be closed to the public.”
“Aight, cool.” He paused. “So what’s on your agenda today?”
“Nothing much. Same old bullshit. Work.”
“Nigga, you never not working. How about you head out and do something fun for once?”
I let out a dry laugh and rubbed my jaw. “I was thinking about taking a trip and shutting myself off from the world during me and Mo’s anniversary.”
Royce’s face changed right away.
“That’s actually a good idea,” he said. “You going alone?”
“Yeah. I think I need to be alone right now.”
“Aight, cool. Just let me know when and where, so I can handle business and keep in touch.”
“I most definitely will. As a matter of fact, I’ma book everything today.”
Royce stayed a little longer, and we talked wedding details, business, and a few other things, but once he left, the house got quiet again. Too damn quiet. The kind of quiet that made my thoughts louder.
So I booked the trip.
I ended up choosing Saint Lucia.
I ain’t want Italy. I ain’t want nothing tied to old blood, old memories, or old ghosts.
I wanted somewhere warm, somewhere far, somewhere I could sit with my thoughts without feeling like I was drowning in them.
Somewhere private enough that I could disappear for a few days and nobody would bother me.
A week later, I was on a plane with one bag, my phone on do not disturb, and no plan other than surviving the next few days without losing my shit.
The villa was secluded, sitting high enough to overlook the water. It was peaceful, beautiful, and quiet…everything I thought I needed. But the truth was, you can fly across the world and still bring every demon in your carry-on.
The first two days, I barely did anything, but drank and slept.
I sat on the balcony and stared out at the ocean until my eyes burned.
Every now and then I checked in with Royce, handled what needed handling, then went right back to shutting the world out.
By the third day, I was tired of sitting in my own misery. So, I threw on some shorts, a T-shirt, and made my way down to one of the beachside spots not too far from where I was staying.
The place was laid-back. Not too crowded. Just enough people to blend in without anybody paying me attention. I was halfway through my drink when I saw Melissa’s fine mean ass.
At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but nah… it was really her.
She was sitting alone at a table near the edge of the deck, the ocean behind her.
She had on a simple sundress, her shades pushed up on top of her head, and even from where I was sitting, she looked tired.
Not physically tired. Soul tired. Like life had been chewing on her and she was trying her hardest not to let it show.
My eyes stayed on her longer than they should have.
The last time I had seen her, she was storming through Club 4 Play with a bat in her hand, rage all over her face, ready to knock Jordan’s head off his shoulders.
She had been loud, shaking, cussing, hurt.
Damn near falling apart right in front of me but still swinging like hell. Back then, she looked like chaos.
Now she looked quiet.
Still hurt… Still guarded… But quiet.
And for some reason, that did something to me.
I leaned back in my chair, watching her for a second longer before I looked away. I told myself to leave it alone. Just because I knew her didn’t mean I needed to go interrupt whatever she had going on. She was clearly out there for a reason.
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen and frowned before answering.
“I said I’m good,” she snapped, keeping her voice low but sharp. “No, I don’t need nobody checking on me every five minutes. I came out here to get away for a reason.”
She went quiet for a second, listening.
Then she sighed. “I know. I’ll call later.”
When she hung up, she rubbed at her forehead and stared out at the water again, and I thought to myself.
She was definitely still carrying that old weight.
I took another sip of my drink and kept minding my business. Or at least I tried to. But when she stood up from the table, her sandal caught against the leg of the chair. Her drink tipped over, splashing all over the table and the front of her dress.
“Damn,” she hissed, stepping back.
The waitress rushed over apologizing, but I was already on my feet before I could think better of it.
“You good?” I asked as I reached the table.
Melissa looked up, and the second her eyes met mine, recognition flashed across her face.
Her brows pulled together. “Roman?”
A small smirk tugged at my mouth. “Didn’t expect to see you all the way out here.”
She looked me over like she was making sure I was really standing there. “I could say the same thing about you.”
The waitress kept apologizing while wiping the table down, but Melissa waved her off.
“It’s fine,” she said. “It was an accident.”
I looked at the wet spot on her dress, then back at her. “You always making scenes when I’m around?”
Her eyes narrowed at me, but I caught the hint of amusement underneath it.
“Boy, don’t start,” she said. “At least ain’t nobody getting hit with a bat this time.”
That pulled a real laugh out of me.
And I couldn’t remember the last time that happened that easy.
“Nah,” I said. “You seem calmer today.”
She folded her arms. “Don’t let this vacation fool you.”
The breeze moved between us, carrying the smell of salt and her perfume, and for a second we just stood there looking at each other. It was strange seeing her outside of all that chaos. No yelling. No tears. No madness. Just her.
Even in silence, she had a pull to her.
“You here alone?” I asked.
Her expression shifted just a little, enough for me to know I had stepped too close to something personal.
“Yeah,” she said after a beat. “Needed a break.”
I nodded. “I get that.”
She tilted her head. “What about you? Club slow, so you decided to leave the city?”
I let out a short laugh. “Something like that.”
The truth was, I ain’t feel like unpacking my grief to nobody, especially not standing there in the middle of a restaurant. But something in the way she looked at me told me she already knew what pain looked like. Maybe that was why the conversation didn’t feel forced.
“Let me buy you another drink,” I said.
Melissa glanced at the table, then back at me. “You persistent I see?”
“Only when I feel like it.”
She tried to fight the smile, but I saw it anyway.
“I’m not really in the mood for company,” she said.
“Good thing I ain’t offer all that. Just the drink.”
That made her laugh softly, and that little sound did something dangerous low in my chest.
“Still slick, huh?” she said.
“I got a few talents.”
She shook her head like she was already tired of me, but she sat back down anyway.
“One drink,” she said.
I took the seat across from her, and for the first time in a long time, being around somebody didn’t feel heavy.
It felt… easy.
Not because I forgot about Mo.
Not because my pain disappeared.
But because for the first time in a long time, something other than grief had my attention.
Melissa leaned back in her chair and looked at me. “So what, you just out here taking random vacations now?”
I swirled the drink in my glass. “Needed to clear my head.”
She nodded slowly like she understood more than she was saying. “Same.”
And just like that, with the ocean behind us and both of us pretending we weren’t carrying way more than we wanted to admit, the conversation started to flow.
It wasn’t flirting exactly.
But it damn sure wasn’t nothing either.