Page 69 of Session 33

I felt the urge to ask her what was up, but we were on some polite co-parenting shit, and she’d made it clear as day—anything outside of Ekon wasn’t for us to talk about anymore. I tried to letit go, but it was irritating, knowing she was spinning out and I couldn’t help.

“Thanks for changing the drop-off,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. “Just bring him here for the next few weeks.”

She looked up briefly but didn’t say anything else.

“No problem. I’m about to head out,” I said. I turned to leave, got a few steps away, and then I heard her ask, “Why didn’t you tell me you were celibate?”

I paused, turning back to face her, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Why would I? You told me to keep our conversations about Ekon. So I did.” I shrugged, playing it off, but I was annoyed she was even asking me about it. No "hey, good job not drinking or smoking anymore," butwhy are you celibate and didn’t tell me?Why even ask? She wasn’t trying to fuck me.

“Have a good day, Angel.”

She followed me into the living room. I paused long enough to pick up my keys and phone from where I dropped them on her coffee table.

She was biting the hell out of her lip, looking like she was trying not to say something, but then she just blurted it out. “Why didn’t you kiss me that night?”

I stared at her, trying to read what was going on behind her eyes, but she was always hard to figure out when she was in her own head. I sank down on the sofa, patting the spot next to me.

“You need to talk, Angel?”

She hesitated but sat down, quiet as hell. She didn’t say a word, just stared at her hands like they held all the answers she was looking for.

“What’s wrong? You seem all over the place right now,” I said, watching her, waiting for her to say something, anything, but she just stayed silent. I sighed, running my hands over my face, feeling that old pull that always made me want to solve her problems. She remained silent. I decided to answer her question. Maybe it would get her talking.

“I’m celibate because I’m trying to be better,” I said. “Trying to learn how to handle my own shit instead of losing myself in women, instead of distracting myself from everything I don’t wanna deal with. My sex habits weren’t no better than my drinking or smoking habits.”

Angel just nodded.

I stood up, feeling the need to put space between us. “I gotta get going,” I said, ready to leave, but I couldn’t just walk out. Not without saying something.

“I didn’t kiss you because I didn’t want you to have another regret that involved me,” I confessed. “I’m not in a rush with you.

I haf decided I was going to move on, now I changed my mind. If you were happy, I would let you be. But you aren't. And you’ve never stopped looking at me like you did that first day, like you saw something you wanted, needed. But I fucked up, and now I gotta let you find your way back to me on your own terms.”

Her breath hitched.

I smirked, leaning down close enough that I could see thatsomethingin her eyes—the something she was trying hard to bury.

“A little experience will do you good, Angel.

I see old man Solomon got you spinning, he running you ragged. So I probably won't have to wait long."

I shook my head. “When you’re ready, you’ll be back. I know you’ll appreciate me even more after him. Because even when I fucked up, I never tried to change you. You’re already too fucking lovable as you are. Don’t let Unc make you feel any different.”

I straightened up and walked out, leaving her to sit with her thoughts. I’d just put the ball back in her court. She wasn’t ready yet, but she would be and now she knew I'd be waiting.

Chapter sixty one

It had been a week since Cassius sat on my couch, looked me dead in the eyes, and told me he was letting me find my way back to him. His words had been sitting in my head. keeping me up. He had the audacity to be prophesizing on what I was going to do, with his smug ass. But then... was my reunion with Cassius inevitable?

Was that why I was in Solomon’s house, digging through his shit? Was I trying to find an excuse to break up. Or was it really there because something about him wasn’t sitting right? I’d been side-eyeing him since I overhead that conversation with his mother—the way he’d snapped at me when I brought it up made me think he was hiding more than he said.

I wasn’t proud of myself. But I wasn’t about to stop either.

I’d already gone through the drawers in his office, flipped through the papers stacked on his desk, checked his laptop history. Nothing. There were no signs of anything out of the ordinary, no hidden secrets about another woman or some kind of life he wasn’t telling me about. But the feeling that something was off gnawed at me.

I moved to his closet in his bedroom, pulling open the doors as quietly as I could, even though I knew he wasn’t home. Shirts,suits, all lined up perfectly like everything else in his life. It was kind of weird how everything was perfectly color-coordinated. I reached up to the top shelf, where he kept old boxes—things I figured he never really looked through. But as I was pulling one down, I heard a car pull up in the driveway.

Shit.