“I need to step to her directly and tell her the truth,” I said between bites.
“Good.” She poured herself a glass of red wine from one of the bottles they kept behind the bar. “Because I was about to cuss you out if you said you were gonna keep playing secret admirer.”
“Nah. I’m done with that.” I cut into the steak. “Cassie’s about to be in custody. After that’s handled, I’m telling her everything. And if she’s not in custody soon, I’m taking a different route. My route.”
“And you think she’s just gonna fall into your arms?” Omni took a sip of her wine. “You don’t think that’s gonna freak her out?”
“It might.”
“It definitely will.” She leaned forward. “Brother, you crossed some lines. And when you tell her the truth, she might not take it well. You gonna respect that?”
“I’mma do my best. I respect Halo too much, not to. It’ll be rough. Shit, I’m having a hard time now, but I gotta do it.”
I set my fork down. “What do you think I should do?”
“Tell her the truth. All of it. Don’t sugarcoat it. Don’t try to justify it. Just lay it out and let her decide if you’re worth the trouble.” She paused. “And if she walks away, you respect that. You don’t chase. You don’t send more gifts. You let her go.”
“I’m not letting her go.”
“Then you better hope she sees what I see—a man who’s been hurt before and doesn’t know how to do this right, but who’s willing to learn.” Omni smiled softly. “And when you do tell her, bring her here eventually. Let her see this side of you. Let her meet the family. Let her see you’re not just some athlete. You’re a man who built something from the ground up with the people he loves.”
I nodded, taking that in. Ignite wasn’t just a restaurant. It was proof that we’d turned everything Pops taught us into something we could be proud of.
“And Vinci?” Her voice softened. “When you tell her, be prepared for her to be angry. Be prepared for her to need time. Don’t expect her to just accept it because you think your reasons were good enough.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” She straightened up. “Now finish your food and get out of here. You’re disrupting my inventory.”
I finished eating, left her a stack of cash on the bar that was way more than the meal cost, and stood to leave.
I’d be seeing Miss Halo soon enough.
Walking out of Ignite, I felt that shift in the atmosphere— the kind that let me know the bullshit phase was over.
No more watching from the shadows, no more letting fear talk slick in my ear.
Next time I saw her, I’d tell her everything.
And if she stayed? Good.
If she didn’t?
She’d still know exactly where she stood in my life… and exactly where I wanted her.
The familiar weight was back. The kind that sank into me no matter how put-together everything else looked on paper. Work was solid. Career was locked. But personally? That’s where the cracks showed.
That’s how I ended up perched on a crunchy paper sheet in a freezing exam room, legs crossed, fingers drumming on my thigh while Dr. Kline clicked through charts on her screen. Words I never thought I’d care about lit up in blue: follicle count, hormone levels, options.
“You’re still in a good range,” she said, as if she were reading a weather report. “If you want to move forward with freezing, now is the right time.”
I nodded even though my nerves were running wild. “Okay. Let’s move forward.”
It wasn’t a decision I came to lightly. I loved my life. Loved my freedom. Loved being able to look people dead in the eye and say, “I built this.” But I wasn’t stupid either. I wanted kids one day, a house full. A partner who wouldn’t fold when shit got hard. I didn’t want my future to come down to bad timing or hoping for miracles.
“Any plans to start a family soon?” she asked.
I sniggered. “Plans? Ma’am, the only plans I have are to keep my dog fed and make it through my next shift without cussing somebody out. One day I’ll have a family and babies. I just want to be proactive. It might take me another ten years to find Mr. Right.”
