Chapter 15 #2
The weight sitting on Monroe’s chest as he stepped out of the shower was strong enough to bring a man to his knees, but he was cut from a different cloth.
When he looked in the mirror, his reflection looked the same, but something inside him had shifted.
He studied the man staring back at him through the mirror, and for the first time in weeks he wasn't conflicted.
The burden he'd been carrying since leaving New York hadn't disappeared, but it no longer felt impossible to bear.
Somewhere between the silence, the prayers, and the sleepless nights, God had given him the answer he'd been searching for.
It was Promise.
He knew in his heart of heart-of-hearts that the decision had been made, and she'd always be his answer. He was going home. Monroe scrolled to his personal pilot's text thread.
Need to head to New York in the next hour.
Dru: Already.
I’m on my way, Doll, he thought, spraying himself with his signature scent.
He regretted the time he spent away from her, and though it had been necessary for mental and spiritual clarity, it still felt like torture.
Nevertheless, he intended to make it all right once he made it to her side.
Thirty minutes later, Monroe had draped himself in black designer slacks, a white-collar dress shirt, and black loafers.
Around his neck rested a diamond-encrusted Cuban link chain with a cross pendant that caught the light every time he moved.
A matching Patek hugged his wrist, completing a look that whispered wealth instead of announcing it.
This wasn’t at all the way that he’d envisioned his reunion with Promise, but it was past due. Monroe was overly sure that where he was going was undoubtedly where he wanted to be. Before reaching for the door and making his exit, Monroe dropped to his knees, and prayed for Promise.
Jehovah Rapha,
I know I don’t talk to you as much as I should, but I’m humble enough to acknowledge Your power. Please let my wife be alright. Whatever damage that has taken place, I trust you to heal her, and make her whole. In Jesus Name, Amen.
Four Hours Later…
The soothing sounds of soft waves crashing into a water brook was the soundtrack that wafted through the old-school boombox tucked away on the antique dresser.
Monroe stood quietly in the doorway, his eyes settling on Promise as she slept peacefully beneath cream-colored Egyptian cotton sheets, and a cashmere throw that was draped across the foot of the bed.
The room looked more like a luxury suite than a place where someone was recovering from a gunshot wound.
Rich mahogany furniture, soft ambient lighting, and carefully selected décor disguised the medical equipment that quietly occupied the corners of the room.
The Black Family didn't believe in hospitals if they could help it. They brought the hospital to them.
Moonlight spilled through the partially opened blinds, stretching across the hardwood floors before kissing the oversized bed.
The slow and steady beat coming from the monitors was the only reminder of how close he'd come to losing her.
Mitch had walked him through every second of the ambush that had taken place in front of Pasquale Jones', and every detail had tested the little bit of resolve he had left.
Every instinct in him wanted blood, but reacting off emotion had never served a man in his position.
Had the bullet been three inches to the left, it would have hit a main artery and killed her.
Monroe pinched the bridge of his nose as he stepped deeper into the room, closing the door quietly.
His eyes found Promise immediately. For a short while, nothing else in the room existed.
Just her. His eyes scanned the room, immediately spotting a chair that sat in the far-left corner.
Quickly crossing the room, Monroe got the chair and brought it to her bedside.
He simply took in her features. She was alive and that alone made him breathe easier, but he hadn’t missed the IV that was stationed on the other side of the bed, or the slight exhaustion that rested beneath her eyes.
None of it looked right on her. Releasing a deep sigh, he sat down and gently took her hand.
His thumb stroked slow circles across the back of her hand as his eyes grazed over her face.
“Monroe,” Promise murmured, blinking her eyes open.
“I’m right here, Doll,” Monroe answered lowly, never letting go of her hand.
“Everything happened so fast. I–”
“Shh,” Monroe interrupted. “I got you,” he assured her.
“Where have you been? You never returned any of my calls or texts? Why?” She questioned, needing to know why he’d made himself unavailable.
Monroe licked his lips as his gaze drifted to their joined hands for a brief moment.
“Soul searching, Doll,” he answered honestly, lifting his eyes back to hers.
“A nigga had to get away from everything and everybody long enough to process, analyze, and make the decision that sat best with my soul.”
“You could have at least let me know you were alright,” Promise said, giving him a side eye.
Monroe chuckled before his expression became solemn again.
“You right,” he admitted. “But I needed to be away from you for a minute too. I needed to feel the impact of not having you around me. Had to entertain the possibility of a different life without you. All of that took time, and a nigga had to face myself. My truth,” Monroe explained.
Promise nodded slowly, understanding why he’d taken time away despite the way it made her feel.
But, there was a part of her that still wanted to be mad at him.
She couldn't pretend those months hadn't hurt, but hearing the honesty in his voice softened something inside of her.
If nothing else, he wasn't hiding behind excuses.
“So, what did you decide?” She quizzed.
“Truth is, Doll. A nigga regret every second I spent away from you only to confirm some shit I already knew. I don’t need another second away from you to confirm that with you is where I wanna be, forever.
You the only one for me, but,” he paused.
“But, it ain’t just me no more. I have a daughter.
I understand if you can’t accept this because–”
“I thought I lost you, Monroe,” Promise stated truthfully, then looked away for a second.
"I didn’t think you were coming back to me," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "And when I got shot, the thought of closing my eyes without seeing your face one last time,” she shook her head. “I will accept her and treat her like my own, not because I’m fearful, but because I love you,” Promise confessed.
Monroe bore so deep into her soul, a single tear spilled from his eye.
One that he quickly swiped away. He felt her.
He felt her words settling somewhere deep in the core of his being.
They were long overdue, and something they both knew existed between them for a while, yet still they had never been spoken between them.
“I love you more, Doll. Nigga been in love wit’chu for a while.”
“I’m pregnant,” Promise revealed, unable to hold it back any longer.
Monroe looked away, then back at Promise. “What’chu say, Doll?”
“I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t get to you,” she explained.
“How long have you known?” He inquired, feeling bad for not being there for her.
“I just found out two months ago. I’m six months pregnant now,” Promise revealed.
“Six months?” Monroe said in disbelief, not because he didn’t believe her, but because where was the baby hiding?
He stood and gently pulled back the covers, before lifting Promise’s shirt to observe her stomach; her small baby bump catching his attention immediately.
His eyes widened as soon as his hand covered her stomach with his hand because the feel of their child's tiny feet had caught him completely off guard. This feeling was wild, and he didn’t know the right response to give.
Monroe had heard Syncere and Truth talk about their kids all the time, he’d felt a close connection with Monae too, but this…
this had hit different on so many levels.
“You barely showing,” Monroe stated, noticing her breasts were bigger, and her hips had spread more than they were before.
“The doctor said it’s normal, and to give it time. Let’s just pray I don’t get any stretch marks,” Promise said, lifting crossed fingers in the air.
Lowering his lips to her stomach, Monroe kissed his unborn child.
“Daddy’s home for good now. You got my word,” he vowed, lifting slightly, and hovering over Promise.
He leaned in and kissed her lips sweetly, allowing his lips to linger a few seconds longer, then rested his forehead on top of hers.
“Thank you for bein’ so strong, and for givin’ me the time I needed to figure all this shit out.
I’ma spend the rest of my life makin’ up for this shit. ”
“If I could turn back the hands of time, I wouldn’t change a thing. For you…for us, I’d do it all over again,” Promise told him, wincing in pain when she attempted to move her leg.
“Not even being shot?” Monroe asked with a smirk.
“Well maybe I’d change that one thing,” Promise said.
Monroe cracked up laughing because Promise was a trip. “I’ma take care of that.”
“I know you will, baby,” Promise replied.
“I need to tell you something,” Monroe said, not wanting to hold anything else back from Promise.
“Yea, what is it?” She asked, giving him her full attention.
“Monae told me she didn’t feel safe because she’d overheard my mother threatening Sienna, so I asked her if she wanted to stay at my house. When she said yes, Sienna came with her,” Monroe said, pausing to allow Promise to process what he’d said.
“Wait, when did all this happen?” Promise quizzed, feeling territorial.
“Not long before I came to see you in Houston,” Monroe came clean. “But, I’ve been in Malibu, Doll.”