He didn’t get it, but he didn’t argue.
When we pulled onto her street, God must’ve been in his directing bag. She stepped outside in a shirt with my face on it. It was oversized, soft, and clearly a shirt she slept in. The goofiest grin graced my face. There was no way this wasn’t meant to be.
I reached for the door without thinking.
“Not tonight, boss,” Langston said, stopping me. “The wait is almost over.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Aight. Let’s dip.”
Leaving wasn’t easy. But it was necessary.
Back at my spot, I tried to settle, breathe, and relax into being home again. But the detectives called earlier, informing us that we were one step closer to being done with this Cassie shit. Charges had been filed against her. Arson. Breaking and entering. Restraining order violations.
But they still hadn’t found her.
That’s what had me up at two in the morning, pacing my living room instead of sleeping. I had a game in two days. Recovery day and meetings tomorrow. Coach would kill me if he knew I was still up.
But I couldn’t sleep.
My body was wired.
My mind was stuck.
And every thought ended with Halo.
Because the more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to move smarter.
Seeing her tonight felt like a subtle push. I wanted to end this in the shadow shit for real. No hiding, no hinting, no halfway shit. Just tell her the truth and take whatever comes with it.
But not while Cassie was still floating around like a loose wire waiting to spark.
That woman had already burned my house down over rejection. That wasn’t a rumor or exaggeration. That was my real life. And as much as every part of me wanted Halo close, I refused to pull her into some shit I hadn’t handled yet. I wasn’t going back on that.
Because if Cassie made one move toward Halo?
I already knew which favors I’d have to call in.
I already knew how far I’d go.
And I didn’t want to go there.
But I would without hesitation.
I opened my laptop and found a custom skate site. With me being gone, I’d slowed up on the secret admirer shit, but knowing her skates broke made me want to replace them to see her smile.
I found a Black-owned skate shop online and started designing two pairs, one just like her favorites, reinforced so they’d never break, and one custom pair. The custom pair had her initials stitched, plates engraved, one side fire, one side sunflowers. Wheels, bearings, the best you could get. By the time I hit submit, an hour had passed. My phone buzzed with a text from my sister.
Omni:Why are you up?
Me:How do you know I’m up?
Omni:Call it sister intuition. What’s wrong?
Me:Can’t sleep
Omni:Call me
