Chapter 13 #3
At five o’clock sharp, Monroe stood in the mirror wearing a sleek black Armani suit, a crisp white collar dress shirt, paired with black Armani loafers.
He wore a diamond-encrusted Patek around his wrist, a silver cuban link chain, and his signature scent was one helluva completion.
Monroe hadn't caught one second of sleep after the encounter he'd had with Sienna hours earlier. His spirit had been at war with his flesh, while his mind wrestled relentlessly with his heart. Nothing about the night before felt simple. Nothing about it felt like the man he'd worked so hard to become. This situation had him toting the grey areas of what was wrong and right. His feelings for Promise and Sienna were palpable, and in his mind it didn’t make sense. He didn’t understand how both facts could be true at the same time. One woman had always been enough for him, it was never supposed to be complicated. He had purposely lived his life a certain way because he didn’t have the patience for bullshit in his personal life.
He worked hard, lived dangerously, and he was a leader.
One thing he’d learned in therapy years ago was recognizing when it was time to take a step back before making permanent decisions from temporary emotions.
He didn’t take orders from anyone, but he was a strong listener, and he understood the importance of following directions.
Another thing he’d learned better than anything or anyone else in the world was himself.
He didn’t play about his mental health or his peace, and Sienna…
she’d triggered him. He’d recognized it, but he’d dismissed it for the sake of his daughter. He’d do anything for her.
He needed to reset because impulsivity was something he couldn’t overlook though.
The night before was the first conversation he’d had with Sienna since he’d learned that she was still alive.
The first time he’d been that close to her in over a decade, and he moved off impulse with her.
When he was in the moment with her, it felt right, but he had been questioning all night if it was actually right.
If it was right, why had he questioned it?
If it was right why did he feel like he was wrong afterwards?
There was so much Monroe wrestled with mentally and emotionally that the only thing that felt right was getting away, but not before speaking to Monae first. He couldn’t afford for her to feel like he was abandoning her by any means.
He just needed to be in the right place in every aspect in order to make the best decisions for himself and the ones he cared for most in the world.
He smoothed his hand over his deep, spinning waves as he took in one last glance at himself in the mirror, then grabbed his phone and keys before walking out of his room.
Glancing down the hall, noticing Sienna’s door was closed.
“Thank you,” he whispered to God, looking up at the ceiling.
Walking in the opposite direction, Monroe peeped in at his daughter, who was still sound asleep without a care in the world.
The love he felt for her was unconditional, and he knew that he’d die protecting her.
He hated that she’d lived one second in this world not feeling his protection, love, and provision.
“Good morning, Daddy,” Sienna spoke with her eyes closed. She wasn’t a morning person at all, but her spirit was so sensitive.
Monroe stepped all the way in her room and closed the door. “Good morning, Muffin,” he replied. “How’d you know I was standin’ at your door?” He stated with a smirk.
Monae shrugged. “I don’t know, I just felt you were close by.
Monroe paused and thought about what Monae had just said.
Her words spoke volumes of the type of person she was, and they had touched him somewhere deep in his chest. He had wanted to provide a safe environment for his daughter, and had worked hard to make her comfortable, but knowing that beyond all of that–the confirmation of connection he felt to her was mutual.
“You okay, Daddy?” Monae opened her eyes and asked. “You know you can talk to me about anything too, right?” She offered her father a life jacket without knowing the details of all that he was going through, but she’d felt the heaviness he carried on his shoulders.
Monroe would never give his daughter his burdens to carry with him, but the fact that she cared that much filled his heart with pride. Monae’s love was that strong, but still, Monroe held his composure.
“That means a lot, Muffin. I’m good though,” Monroe assured her. “I wanted to come talk to you because I gotta take care of some business, and it’s gon’ require me to take a quick trip for a few weeks. But, after that I got some things planned for us. You good with that?”
“What’s the plan when you get back?” Monae asked.
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise. Just know we gon’ enjoy ourselves,” he promised.
“I like the sound of that. Can it be just us?” Monae asked.
Monroe chuckled because as much of himself that he saw in his daughter, Monae not wanting to share him with anyone was Sienna all the way.
“I got’chu,” Monroe said, bending to kiss Monae’s forehead. “You can call me anytime, a’ight?” He said, standing to make his way out of her room.
“Daddy,” Monae called before he closed the door.
“What’s up, babygirl?” He answered, turning to face her.
“You look nice, daddy. I like that suit,” Monae complimented.
Monroe chuckled. “Thanks Muffin. You know ya daddy is really that nigga,” he said, combing his fingers through his beard. “You know you get’cho good looks from me.”
Monae cracked up laughing. “Oh my God! You are so conceited.”
“Call me later, a’ight?” Monroe said.
“I will,” Monae said, grabbing her phone, scrolling to YouTube to start her GRWM video.
One Hour Later…
Monroe killed the engine, but made no attempt to get out.
Instead, he leaned back in his seat and stared through the windshield as private jets taxied back and forth across the runway.
Normally, business trips didn't require this much thought.
He'd hop on a plane, handle what needed his attention, and was back before most people got their day started.
This time was different. He wasn't chasing money.
He wasn't settling a debt. He wasn't putting out another fire for The Black Family Empire. This trip was the most personal one he’d made in years.
His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the steering wheel while he replayed the previous night in his mind.
Sienna's tears. Monae's smile. Promise's voice.
Macie's lies. Every memory collided until they became one tangled mess he couldn't separate no matter how hard he tried.
Monroe had always prided himself on making calculated decisions, but there was nothing calculated about moving off emotion.
That wasn't leadership. That was wild work, and only reckless men moved like that.
Every major decision he'd made in business had come with clarity.
This one didn't. That alone told him he was making the right call by stepping away instead of forcing an answer his heart wasn't ready to give.
Therapy had taught Monroe something the streets never could.
When his mind became louder than his spirit, it was time to stop moving long enough to hear the difference.
Monae.
Promise.
Sienna.
Macie.
All of them played a different role, his relationship with each one of them was different, and he felt responsible for all of them.
Monroe stepped out of the truck and adjusted the cuff of his Armani jacket.
The early morning air hit different. It carried a stillness he hadn't felt in weeks.
He wasn't leaving because he was confused. He was leaving because the clarity he sought couldn’t be found in the midst of confusion.
A few minutes later, after settling into the leather seat nearest the window, Monroe pulled out his phone and dialed Mitch from an untraceable line. He looked out the window as he waited for his uncle to answer the phone.
“What’s the move, nephew? Mitch answered on the second ring, almost as if he was expecting his call.
Monroe smirked to himself. His uncle always seemed to know when something was brewing. “I gotta bust a move for a minute, Unc.
Mitch listened attentively.
“I need you to hold it down for me while I’m away,” Monroe didn’t beat around the bush. “Promise, Monae and Sienna is covered, but I need Sienna’s mom to be protected too. I’ma send you her location.”
“Already,” Mitch replied, knowing not to ask where he was going, or why he’d chosen to go. He wasn't the head of the family for nothing, he’d been overseeing the whole situation and understood why this was necessary. He knew this day was coming. “How long?”
“I’on know yet, Unc. I’ll be in touch.”
There was a brief pause on the line before Mitch said. "A'ight."
When the call ended, Monroe stared out across the runway as the engines roared to life. New York had given him everything he'd ever wanted, but all he wanted in this moment was clarity and peace.