Page 54 of Bodyguard My Heart

I staredat my empty apartment. It had been four months since I’d been released from the hospital. A bittersweet weight lifted from my shoulders as I stood in what used to be my living room. I hadn’t been here in a while. When I was first released, I went to Monroe and Royale’s house. When I was a little better, I went to Rebecca’s. I didn’t want to come here or anywhere near Demetrius. After our dispute at the hospital, I had him moved to my banned visitor’s list. What happened to me wasn’t his fault, but my brain at the time didn’t see it that way.

He came to get me settled at Royale’s and delivered my things to Rebecca’s, but he didn’t speak to me, and I didn’t push it. It was most likely for the best.

Today was the day. I was finally freeing myself of the endless cycle of drugs, crime, and drama that seemed to haunt me since I was born. Miami wasn’t my scene anymore. As long as I was here, I’d be associated with the London Cartel, and I didn’t want to go through that anymore. Grabbing the white envelope on the counter, I glanced at my apartment one last time. I had one stop to make before my flight left.

I pulled up to the divorce lawyer’s office to seal the deal on the last thing that bound me to the cartel. My marriage to Demetrius. Fortunately, I still had the papers he’d signed before his accident. Climbing out of the car, I took a deep breath. I was ready for a fresh start. Pushing open the door, I froze.

“Took yo’ pretty ass long enough, baby girl,” Demetrius said. He was sitting on top of the receptionist’s desk. It was the only area in the room not covered with roses. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Demetrius was the last person I expected to see here. Quickly, I glanced toward the street. An old-school Cutlass was parked directly across the street. He was tracking me. I should have known.

I wanted to curse him out. He didn’t get to do this, disappear for four months, and ruin my fresh start—not after choosing himself. My emotions were overflowing. When I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t deny the love in them. I couldn’t deny the love I had in my heart for him.

“This is the last time I’m going to track you, promise.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t want a divorce, baby girl.”

“It’s not about what you want, Demetrius.”

“You’re right. It’s about what you want. I’m out. It’s done. The London Cartel is no more.”

My mouth dropped at his confession.

“We can start over together.”

A whirlwind of emotions flooded me. I was so tired of this lifestyle, but seeing him there, laying it all out, made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

“I’m not too late, am I, baby girl?” He approached me as he lowered to one knee.

“Samara London, the first time you asked me, but that didn’t make the journey any less valid. I love you, girl. You are every fucking thing to me. You came into my life and made me see better for myself. I want to be better for you. For all the little crumb snatchers we’re going to have. You saw the man in me before I saw that nigga in myself. So, would you do me the honor of not divorcing me and being my wife for real this time?”

I was speechless as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Come on, baby girl. Don’t leave me down here. I’m creasing my Forces and shit.”

“You’re really done? The cartel... It’s no more?”

He nodded his head.

I didn’t respond to him as I lowered myself down to the ground with him. He pulled me in, and our lips collided.

“Yes, Demetrius. I want to be your wife.” I nodded my head. He didn’t waste any time pulling the divorce papers from my hand and tearing them up right in front of me.

"We ain’t ever getting a divorce, baby girl. I love you."

“I love you too.”

I sniffled as he held me close. At that moment, I hoped we could leave all the mess behind us and start anew. We kissed, leaving all the hurt and mistakes in the past.

“Where we going?” he questioned.

“I was headed to Richmond, Virginia.” His face twisted up.

“Richmond?”

“What? I needed a clean, drama-free place.”

“What about Haiti? I’m kind of the new CEO of Augustine Brew.” He held up a Haitian business license.