Page 87 of Session 33

Naomi grinned, her fake pout vanishing as she opened her bag and peeked inside. “Oh my God, these oxtails smell amazing,” she said, popping a piece into her mouth like she hadn’t just been clowning me.

I sighed again, shaking my head. “It’s not like that,” I said, my tone serious now.

Naomi raised an eyebrow, skepticism practically radiating off her. “Mmmhmm.”

I sat back in my chair, choosing my words carefully. “I just didn’t want a repeat of the past. I didn’t want you telling me it’s nota good idea. We’re not back together, but we’re working on it. Cassius has grown so much, Naomi. He’s really trying—for me, for himself.”

Naomi’s expression softened, and she leaned back. “I understand,” she said finally, nodding slowly. “And I agree. He’s changed for the better. That’s why I’m rooting for y’all this time.”

Her words caught me off guard. Naomi had always been Cassius’s biggest critic, the one who’d side-eye me every time I tried to defend him. Hearing her say she was rooting for us now? It hit me in a place I didn’t even realize I needed it to.

“Really?” I asked, my voice laced with cautious hope.

She grinned, popping another piece of oxtail into her mouth. “Really.”

I smiled, a small but genuine one. “Thank you, Naomi.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she teased, pointing her fork at me. “You know I’ll still cuss his ass out if he steps out of line. Then Imma cuss your ass out for giving him another chance to hurt you. Y’all better make it work.”

I laughed. “That’s fine with me.We can jump him together if he fucks up this time. And your cussing don’t scare nobody. You do it too much.”

Naomi laughed too.

The rest of the appointment flew by, the two of us slipping back into our usual rhythm of easy conversation and laughter.

As I stepped with freshly done nail, I felt something that had been absent all my life. It felt foreign.

Maybe this was what it looked like when life started to align. Maybe this was what it felt like to reach for something better, something solid.

But then again, maybe it wasn’t. Time would tell.

Chapter seventy six

four months later

The smell hit me first—bacon, buttery pancakes, something sweet like syrup.Homemade. My stomach growled loud enough to wake the dead. I cracked one eye open, blinking against the thin sunlight creeping through the blinds.

Angel’s side of the bed was empty. That wasn’t normal. She would usually wait for the alarm to go off.If she was cooking, she was happy. Or maybe it was because I had eaten her pussy so good last night I’d damn near given myself lockjaw and she felt I deserved it. I smirked to myself. That celibacy shit? Trash. But I was glad I’d done it because it made sex feel different—bette now. Or maybe it was just that sex with Angel hit different.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before getting up and heading to the bathroom. I took a piss, brushed my teeth, then threw on some sweats. Ekon’s little giggles floated up the stairs, mixed with Angel’s laugh. That sound? It had me smiling before I even made it out the door.

I followed the noise down the stairs, the hardwood cold against my bare feet. When I hit the doorway to the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks.

Angel was at the stove, flipping pancakes like she was auditioning for some Food Network special. She was wearing one of my old T-shirts—it was hanging off her shoulders, barely brushing the tops of her thighs. Her legs were bare, smooth, thick, and when she shifted her weight, her ass jiggled just enough to have me locked in place, watching.

Ekon was in his high chair,banging his spoon on the tray like it was a drum set. He was grinning like the happiest kid in the world. The sight of them together made my chest ache in a good way, like my heart was finally in the right place.

I stayed in the doorway for a second, soaking it all in.

This was my family. My life. And I wasn’t fucking it up again. Every misstep, every bad decision, every time I’d hurt Angel, every time I’d hurt myself—it all felt worth it just to get to this moment. I didn’t think I deserved this for years. And now that I had it? Nothing was taking it from me.

Angel must’ve felt my eyes on her because she turned, catching me staring. Her lips curved into that soft smile that always messed me up, her eyes still a little sleepy but warm, like she didn’t hate me for all the shit I’d put her through.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft and light.

“Morning,” I replied, stepping into the kitchen.

I didn’t even think. I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She smelled like vanilla, butter, and syrup, and I wanted to bury my face in her neck and forget about the rest of the world.