Page 5 of Free Agent

I could wear it and still be done.

Done wondering.

Done worrying.

Done wishing.

The rumor mill could do whatever it wanted, Monty could do whatever—whoever—he wanted, and I could just… go about my day without it meaning anything to me.

But it does mean something to you.

Yeah.

That was the problem.

I blew out another sigh and moved my hand out of sight. I didn’t have to decide right now, not about anything. I focused on the much less emotionally taxing matters at hand.

Blush or no blush.

Curls or sleek layers.

Heels or sneakers.

The shallow shit that would still be a matter of conversation, but much less personal than the decision I managed to put off another thirty minutes, but would still, ultimately, have to make.

Ring or no ring.

That was the question.

Still.

A decision that was sure to launch a thousand think pieces, no matter which way I went with it.

I stared down at the offending jewelry, hating how good it looked glittering on my finger.

A perfect specimen, gifted with love, or so I liked to believe, from someone who had been a friend as long as I could remember. From the person who’d—cheerfully, generously—funded not just my passion project with BabyBee, but the deeply personal, traumatic experience that predated it.

Shit.

It was hard not to be torn.

When my phone buzzed again, I grabbed it from the countertop, fully expecting another text from Sierra. It was not her.

Immediately, I put it down again, not wanting to read another empty apology that wouldn’t change anything. But when I picked it up a few moments later, I quickly discovered it was not another empty apology.

It wasn’t an apology at all.

Dear girl that I’ll give anything she asks, but already has access to my accounts, can a nigga get a hint at what I can possibly do for you on today? – Money Monty

Originally, that nickname had been a joke, a very private one between just me and him when he got his first “big boy” contract in professional-level football.

It was a big fucking check.

But, to his credit, the money hadn’t changed him. He’d always been generous, charming, funny, and all those things… he remained.

I still wasn’t sure where we went wrong.

Or if we had gone wrong.