20. Melissa Domaine
Istared at my phone way longer than that text deserved.
Roman: Aight. When and where you want to meet?
Roman: Bet. Just tell me when you ready. I’ll be there.
No pull-up.
No, “I’m outside.”
No pressure.
And somehow that made my stomach flip worse.
Because for the first time since we started this little dance, he wasn’t tryna steer it.
He put it on me. Where. When. If.
I couldn’t even lie to myself and say I didn’t know what I wanted this talk to be about.
We was past the “what are we” stage.
We’d already done all the shit people usually do after they answer that.
Sleepin’ together.
Meetin’ family.
Him damn near fightin’ niggas behind me.
The only thing we hadn’t done was call it what it was.
And I was tired.
Tired of actin’ like we wasn’t knee-deep.
He sent another text a little while after.
Roman: If you don’t wanna pick a spot, you can come to my Nana’s. Backyard. She been askin’ about you anyway.
I bit my lip.
I’d met Nana in passin’, at dinners and little family things, but never like that. Never as the woman who had her grandson pacing the floor.
Me: Your Nana really wanna meet me?
Roman: She said, and I quote, “Bring that girl over here so I can see what got you actin’ crazy.”
Roman: So yeah. She know of you.
I laughed out loud.
Of course she did.
Meetin’ at her place lowkey made sense.
It wasn’t my house, where my bed was gon’ be whisperin’ bad decisions.
Wasn’t his, where Mo looked down on everything like a quiet ghost.
Wasn’t the club, where somebody could interrupt us every ten seconds.
Neutral…Safe. Plus… if this was gon’ be somethin’ real, I wanted the woman who raised him to see me for herself.
Me: Aight. Nana’s backyard. Tomorrow. 6pm.
Roman: Bet. I’ll let her know we comin’.
My stomach flipped harder.
On the drive home, my brain would not shut up.
You can still back out.
You can still keep it “fun.”
You can still walk away before he get close enough to really hurt you.
Then I thought about Fee cryin’ on my couch, scared and still showin’ up.
Thought about Charlee holdin’ her barely-there belly, loud and terrified and still lettin’ herself be excited.
Thought about April sittin’ at Nana’s table talkin’ about bein’ scared and marryin’ Royce anyway.
Everybody around me was scared.
They just wasn’t lettin’ fear make all they choices.
Maybe it was time I stopped lettin’ mine do the same.
The next day, I damn near changed outfits three times.
I ain’t wanna look like I tried too hard. But I also wasn’t about to show up lookin’ like I ain’t care.
I ended up in some high-waisted jeans, a simple bodysuit, and my favorite hoops. Light beat, hair fallin’ right.
When I checked myself in the mirror, I looked… like me.
That’s all I had.
When I pulled up to Nana’s, the sun was slidin’ down but it was still light out. Her yard was quiet, little flowers all over, that old swing movin’ a little in the breeze.
Nana stayed in that same cozy little house with the porch that always smelled like food and fabric softener. I swear just bein’ near it made my nerves ease up a notch.
My phone buzzed as soon as I parked.
Roman: She said “y’all better not break my chairs.” That’s her way of sayin’ welcome
I smiled in spite of myself.
Nana opened the door before I could knock, like she’d been standin’ right there.
“There she go,” she said, eyes twinklin’. “Miss Melissa. Come here and gimme a hug.”
I stepped up, lettin’ her pull me in. She smelled like lotion and cookin’ oil and somethin’ floral.
“You look pretty,” she said, leanin’ back to really look at me. “Roman done had you stressed, but you still holdin’ up.”
I huffed a laugh. “Thank you.”
“He out back,” she said, noddin’ toward the yard. “I’ma run to my friend house for a bit. I left y’all some sweet tea on the little table. Talk. Tell the truth. Don’t raise your voices too high, these windows thin.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
She winked. “And baby?”
“Ma’am?”
“Don’t let that boy fool you,” she said. “He loud, but his heart softer than he let on. Same for you.”
My throat got tight.
Before I could say anything, she was already grabbin’ her keys and headin’ out.
“Lock the door behind me,” she called. “Y’all use the back door.”
I did as she said, then walked through the kitchen to the yard.
He was already out there.
Roman sat at the small patio table, tall frame takin’ up too much space in one of Nana’s little metal chairs. He had on a black tee and joggers, chain glintin’ in the light, eyes on the ground until he heard the door.
When he looked up, my chest did that dumb little stutter.
“You good?” he asked, standin’ as I stepped out.
“I’m here,” I said. “That count?”
He gave a half smile. “Yeah. That count.”
He pulled my chair out for me like a gentleman, then sat back down across from me.
Sweet tea sweated on the table between us.
No music. No club noise. No other people.
“Thank you for not poppin’ up somewhere else when I texted,” I said first. “I halfway expected you to just be outside my door.”
He huffed. “I thought about it.”
“I know you did,” I said, mouth twitchin’.
His eyes softened. “You call, I come. That’s just… how I’m wired.”
“I’m seein’ that,” I said quietly.
Silence sat there again.
My heart was beatin’ too fast, but I knew if I let him talk first, I’d end up reactin’ instead of sayin’ what I needed to say.
So I swallowed my pride and jumped.
“Alright,” I started. “Let me go first.”
He nodded. “I’m listenin’.”
I took a breath.
“I been… unfair,” I said. “In a lot of ways.”
He frowned a little. “How?”
“I keep sayin’ I don’t want no relationship, no expectations, no titles,” I said.
“But meanwhile, I’m movin’ like I have one.
I’m answerin’ you. I’m sleepin’ in your bed.
I’m lettin’ you meet my people. I’m goin’ out my way just to be where you at.
Then when it start feelin’ too real, I disappear and act brand new like you the only one trippin’. ”
His jaw flexed, but he stayed quiet.
“I told myself I was protectin’ me,” I went on. “From you. From what this could be. From endin’ up like I was with Jordan—lookin’ crazy, feelin’ stupid, havin’ to rebuild myself from the floor up. But really… I been protectin’ my fear. Feedin’ it. Lettin’ it run the whole show.”
My eyes burned, but I pushed through.
“You not him, Roman,” I said. “I know that. Even when I be actin’ like I don’t. I weaponized what he did to me against you. Used it as a reason to keep you on a leash while you been out here givin’ me what I been sayin’ I wanted for years.”
He looked like he wanted to argue that last part, but he didn’t.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I added, pointin’ at him. “You been on some bullshit too. We not gon’ act like you hidin’ in women bathrooms and circlin’ blocks wasn’t wild as fuck.”
A small grin tugged at his mouth. “I told you I’m not healthy about you yet.”
“I know,” I said. “But lately… you been tryin’. Forreal. No shadow shit. No pop-ups. You text, you call, you let me breathe. I see it. I feel it.”
I paused, lickin’ my lips.
“And I had to ask myself,” I said slowly, “at what point do I stop punishin’ the nigga who actually showin’ up for what somebody else did to me?”
His eyes locked on mine.
I exhaled.
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “Scared of needin’ you. Scared of sayin’ I love you and havin’ you wake up one day and decide that’s too much. Scared of lettin’ you be my safe and then somethin’ happenin’ I can’t bounce back from.”
He swallowed.
“I been movin’ like if I don’t call it what it is, it can’t hurt me,” I said.
“But it already do. When you fall back? That shit hurt. When I thought you was done with me for real? That shit hurt. So if I’m gon’ hurt either way, I’d rather it be ‘cause I actually tried… not ‘cause I played myself tryin’ to stay in control.”
The words sat there between us.
He leaned forward a little, elbows on his knees.
“What you sayin’, Melissa?” he asked, voice low.
I looked him dead in his eyes.
“I’m sayin’ I love you,” I said, the words feelin’ too big and too right all at once. “And it pisses me off. But I do. I’m in love with you, Roman.”
His whole face changed.
Jaw tightened, eyes softened, somethin’ like relief hittin’ him so hard I could almost hear it.
He didn’t jump up. Didn’t gloat. Didn’t hit me with I told you so.
He just breathed.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
I rolled my eyes, but my lips curved. “Don’t be extra.”
“Melissa,” he said, and there was somethin’ in the way he said my name that made my chest pull tight. “Please.”
I shook my head at him, smilin’ despite myself.
“I love you,” I said again, steadier this time. “Happy?”
He let out a breath like he’d been holdin’ it for months.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I am.”
He sat back for a second, rubbin’ his hand over his jaw like he was gatherin’ his own words.
“My turn?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said first. “For real. For the following. The lurkin’. The pop-ups. For makin’ you feel like I was takin’ your choice away in the name of protectin’ you.”
He held my gaze.
“I know what it’s like to have decisions made around you like you furniture,” he went on. “I did that to you. Even if my heart was in the right place, my methods was fucked up. I don’t wanna be another man you gotta heal from.”
My throat tightened.
He kept talkin’.
“When I love somebody, I go all the way,” he said.
“I don’t know how to do half. With Mo, that devotion made sense.
We was married. We built a life. With you…
I took that same intensity and threw it at you before we even said what we was doin’.
I tried to build a forever on top of a ‘we just havin’ fun’ story. That’s on me.”
He leaned forward again, forearms on his thighs, hands clasped.
“I’m still that same man,” he said. “I’m still gon’ love you loud. I’m still gon’ protect what’s tied to me. That not changin’. But I can change how I do it. I can love you without hoverin’ over you like a drone.”
I laughed a little at that even as my eyes burned.
He reached out, restin’ his hand on the table, palm up, not touchin’ me unless I met him there.
“So here’s what I’m sayin’,” he continued.
“I love you. Been loved you. Been know I wanted you in my life for real. I want you as my woman. Not my ‘fun.’ Not my ‘we see how it go.’ My woman. On paperwork one day, if that’s where this end up.
I want to build shit with you that last longer than a trip. ”
He took a breath.
“But I also want you to feel safe,” he added.
“Safe with me, not from me. So from here on out, I’m not hidin’ in bathrooms. I’m not sittin’ outside your buildin’ unless we already talk about it.
If I’m worried, I’ma call. If you don’t answer, I’ma leave a message.
If it feel like an emergency, I’ma say that, not play detective. ”
He looked at me hard.
“And I need somethin’ back,” he said. “I need you to stop disappearin’ and callin’ it protectin’ yourself. If you need space, say that. If you mad, say that. Don’t make me guess where I stand and then be mad at how I respond.”
His voice didn’t have no edge.
Just truth.
I slid my hand into his.
“Deal,” I said quietly.
His fingers closed around mine.
We sat like that for a minute, hand in hand across Nana’s little table.
It felt… calm.
Not like that first wild rush in Saint Lucia.
Not like all them heated moments where clothes was flyin’ and words was flyin’ faster.
This felt like somethin’ solid.
“So what we callin’ this, then?” he asked, mouth quirkin’ up. “Just so we clear.”
I sucked my teeth. “You really need a label?”
“Yes,” he said. “I do. ‘Cause I’m not about to let nobody else call you theirs in front of me and be confused about why they losin’ teeth.”
I laughed. “You stupid.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’m serious, Melissa.”
I held his eyes.
“I’m your woman,” I said finally. “Since that’s the word you like. You my man.”
The way his face lit up at that almost made me look away.
Almost.
“Aight then,” he said, voice low and pleased. “Say less.”
We didn’t rush into sex after that.
We sat there talkin’.
About dumb, and real shit.
How he was sellin’ off the hot parts of his business.
How I wanted to do more with my own bag, maybe build somethin’ bigger than just showin’ up at events.
How we both been scared in different ways.
At some point, the sun dipped down and the backyard lights kicked on.
I ended up slidin’ my chair ‘round the table until I was right next to him.
He pulled me between his legs, my back to his chest, his arms wrapped loose around my waist.
We sat like that, quiet.
His chin on my shoulder, his breath warm on my neck.
“You know this not gon’ magically be easy just ‘cause we said the words, right?” I spoke just above a whisper.
“I know,” he said. “But at least now we sayin’ the same words. That’s a start.”
I smiled, restin’ my hands on his forearms.
For the first time in a long time, love ain’t feel like somethin’ that was just happenin’ to me.
It felt like somethin’ I picked on purpose.
With a man who was just as broken and just as willing as I was.
Scared and all, but somehow, that was the safest I’d felt in years.