Chapter 9
Two Days Later…
Centered…After spending two uninterrupted days in euphoria with her man, Promise had finally come back down to earth.
People did things in the name of love every day, and their souls weren't aligned.
They forced relationships that were never meant to exist and spent years convincing themselves that proximity was the same thing as purpose.
Knowing she had found the man who had aligned with her perfectly, there wasn't one ring of fire she wouldn't jump through to keep it alive.
She felt less like a woman floating on emotion and more like one standing firmly in her truth.
This was the type of access real men gave to their women that made clocks irrelevant, and responsibilities feel optional.
The last few days had restored something inside of her.
Monroe's apology, the way he'd held her, how he'd made her feel like she was the only woman in the world capable of calming the chaos inside him, settled something deep inside of her.
Monroe had filled her up so deeply, Promise still felt him lingering on her skin as she stepped off the elevator and into her penthouse.
A soft smile touched her lips as Kehlani's Everything played on repeat inside her head as she gathered the mail that had accumulated while she'd been away.
Stepping out of her shoes, she walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.
The city stretched endlessly beyond her floor-to-ceiling windows, painted in shades of gold and blue as the sun settled over New York.
Normally she would've paused to admire the view, poured herself a glass of wine, and journaled before calling Monroe; but tonight she wanted nothing more than to relax.
After grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, she settled into a chair at the kitchen table and began sorting through the stack of envelopes.
There was a large black envelope that stood out from the rest of the mail.
No return address, no company logo, nothing…
Just her name. Curiosity got the best of her, so she decided to open that one first. Without much thought, she slid her finger beneath the seal and opened it.
Several photographs spilled onto the table, and immediately, confusion settled over her features. She wasn't prepared to see what was apparent.
Promise blinked once, then narrowed her eyes in confusion.
It was clear as day, but still, her eyes had to be deceiving her.
The first picture was of Monroe sitting across from a woman Promise had never seen a day in her life.
The second picture was of Monroe standing across from her, but the third one...
the third one knocked the wind out of her.
The third picture showed the same woman who was sitting across from Monroe with her arms wrapped around him.
Who the fuck is this woman with her arms around my man?
Promise thought, bringing the pictures closer to study them further.
This isn’t real, she thought, trying to convince herself that her eyes were playing tricks on her.
But, when her heart plummeted, she knew…
She realized this was reality when her heart and mind let her know she could no longer remain in denial.
She picked up the picture again, and studied it. The woman was beautiful, there was no denying that. She had a medium complexion, wore a short bob, had soft features, and a nice shape.
Promise grabbed the pictures again, and that’s when part of the story unfolded through the way this woman looked at Monroe.
People could lie all they wanted to, but a picture was worth a thousand unspoken words, and Promise not only saw the love in this woman’s eyes, she felt it through the image.
As she viewed the second picture, what broke her down wasn’t what she read about the other woman, it was what she read through Monroe’s eyes.
“They love each other,” she whispered to herself as tears trailed down her face.
The realization made her chest tighten, but still, she fought against it.
There had to be an explanation. Monroe conducted business meetings every day.
People approached him constantly, and pictures could be misleading.
Promise wanted to believe that. When she looked at the third picture for the second time, the world stopped spinning, and her hands trembled.
Monroe was her man.
Her safe place.
Her person.
Yet, another woman had touched him. Another woman had embraced what was sacred and off limits to her, and Monroe had allowed it to happen. Her breathing became shallow. The kitchen suddenly felt too small. Too quiet, and she felt like she was suffocating.
"No," she whispered. “Not Monroe…Not after the way he’d just apologized to me for two days in a row,” Promise shook her head as tears continued to cascade down her beautiful face.
Monroe had held her ever so tightly while she slept, and he’d promised that she was the only woman in this world he’d ever need at his side.
Promise had never questioned him when he made her promises because he’d proven to be a promise keeper.
A real one. But this… this was a travesty.
Promise brought the photograph closer as though proximity would somehow change what she was seeing, but the image remained the same.
A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as Promise pushed back from the table, noticing a small note that she'd overlooked as she viewed the pictures.
Her heart dropped as she slowly unfolded it. The handwriting was feminine.
I don't know who you are, but you need to stay away from my man! This is a warning, Bitch!
Promise read the words, and suddenly the room became still. Her hand rose to cover her mouth as a sob escaped before she could contain it. Everything hurt.
Her chest.
Her throat.
Her heart.
The worst part wasn't the photographs, it wasn't even the note. It was the confirmation in her spirit she'd felt and ignored. Monroe was different, and for the first time since he’d entered her life, doubt found a place to sit. And that realization shattered her. "
“He's cheating on me." The words had escaped her lips before she could stop them.
It was a hard truth, and she struggled to accept it, and part of her still refused to believe it.
Monroe wasn't perfect, but he wasn't dishonest. At least that's what she'd believed, yet the evidence was staring directly in her face.
Everything pointed in one direction, and every second she spent staring at those pictures made breathing harder.
Shock had quickly run its course, and nobody needed to be around Promise when she was like this.
Her heart had been broken before, but never like this.
So much hurt and devastation shot through her body, she became numb.
So numb she couldn't speak. So numb the tears stopped.
She needed distance, solitude, and she needed to go somewhere far enough away so that she could hear her own thoughts over the sound of her breaking heart.
Acting purely on instinct, she got up, grabbed the pictures, her purse and keys, then stepped back onto the elevator, and seconds later descended toward the lobby and headed to the airport.
After the elevator doors closed, Promise stared at her reflection.
The woman staring back looked nothing like the one who'd walked into the penthouse fifteen minutes earlier.
This woman looked lost. When the doors opened, she walked straight toward her car.
She didn't know where she was going yet, but she knew she needed to get out of New York.
She needed some space to process the storm that had just struck in her life.
At the top of the morning, Monroe stood at the sink inside his ensuite brushing his teeth as Jeezy's Bottom Of The Map thumped through his house speakers.
He'd stayed up all night going through paperwork that proved proof of life for the last twelve years for Sienna and their daughter Monae.
Proof that the woman he'd buried years ago had never been in the ground to begin with.
The realization still made his stomach twist. From pediatric appointments and school enrollment forms to report cards and extracurricular activities, Monroe hadn't left a single stone unturned when it came to Monae.
He committed everything he could to memory.
Every document he'd reviewed represented a memory he'd missed.
Every piece of her life felt precious because it belonged to a chapter he'd never gotten the chance to read.
Each page served as a reminder that while he'd been grieving Sienna’s death, his daughter had been growing and developing without him.
He wanted to know everything. When it came to Sienna, it took a little more finesse, but the information had surfaced, and Monroe was able to get the information he'd missed the day Sienna's death was faked.
The betrayal sat in his chest like broken glass.
And as much as it infuriated him that he'd spilled innocent blood, he’d lost pieces of himself trying to survive a heartbreak that had been manufactured by the one person who should've protected him most. There was no time to dwell on things he lacked power to change.
Monroe wasn't interested in reliving the past. He was determined to place himself in a position that made it impossible for anyone else to deceive him, especially Macie.
When he walked into his daughter's life, he wanted to come correct. He’d never in life be labeled as the father who showed up halfway.
Which is why he needed to tend to his unfinished business first, and obtain all the answers to the questions that lingered in his mind that only Sienna could clarify, so he could purposefully progress forward.
He wanted to know who his daughter was before he ever stood in front of her.