standing there in the bathroom in that moment, test still warm in my hand, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to open my mouth and let the truth fall out, let it be ugly and real and heavy so we could carry it together. But the words wouldn't come. They stayed lodged in my throat like a prayer I was too scared to speak. When the test read negative, he kissed my forehead and said we'd try again, and maybe it just wasn't time. But time had already decided for me.
"Girl, if you stare at them nails any harder, they gon' crack," Chiana teased, snapping me back into the room. I blinked, lifting my head. She sat to my right, her hair halfway done, lips glossy, eyes sharp and warm like they always were when she was paying attention. Nia and Amina sat to my left, both of them deep in their own worlds. Nia quiet, distant, her reflection in the mirror looking like she was somewhere else entirely. Amina's head bobbed slightly, fighting sleep, arms folded loosely across her chest.
None of us looked excited. The donor event was tonight, but the room felt heavy, like we were getting dressed for something none of us wanted to attend. "Ayida, I'm talkin' to you," Chiana said again, softer this time. "Hm?" I murmured, turning toward her. "I found a specialist over in Houston," she said. "She specializes in fertility. Real good reputation. And she's black. I'm thinkin' a quick little girls' trip." Her voice was careful. Not pushy. Just offering. I smiled. Chiana had been genuine from the day I met her. She had a way of pulling people in without trying, of making space for you like you'd always belonged there. Even now, she was trying to help me untangle something she didn't fully understand, but she didn't need to. She just showed up.
"Why not?" I shrugged. "Can't hurt." It felt strange saying it out loud, agreeing to something outside of Madame Laurent's baths and teas and whispered instructions. But I was tired of standing still. "You know I was late this month?" I added quietly. Chiana's eyes flicked to mine. "Hell, Noles noticed before I did," I continued, my voice lowering. "It just made me feel bad. Seeing' him hopeful like that. Knowing' what it won't be." The words came out heavier than I expected. Chiana reached over and squeezed my knee. "Ayida, you can't beat yourself up like that," she said. "What happened to you had nothing ' to do with you. None of it was your fault." Her words landed soft but solid. "The only thing we can do," she added, "is keep tryin'. One way or another." I nodded. But inside, something shifted. Because trying meant hope And hope was dangerous.
The bell over the shop door dinged, sharp and bright, cutting through the low hum of blow dryers and quiet conversation. I lifted my eyes toward the entrance without thinking. Noles walked in like the air he breathed was different from everyone else. That same swagger. That same confidence that lived in his shoulders before his feet ever touched the floor. His braids were still neat, fresh from me redoing them the night before, edges clean, parts straight. He smiled the second he saw me, like the room had rearranged itself just for him.
He crossed the floor in long strides, ignoring everything and everybody else. When he reached my chair, he planted his hands on the armrests and leaned down, kissing me slow, right on the lips. Not rushed. Not hidden. Like he wanted the whole room to know I belonged to him. "I missed you," he murmured against my mouth, staying close.
Our noses brushed. His breath warmed my skin. That familiar scent of his wrapped around me and pulled butterfliesup from somewhere deep in my stomach. The same ones that had fluttered the first day I met him, the first time he looked at me like I was already his. "I missed you too, " I whispered back, my voice soft, almost shy.
His eyes searched mine for a long moment. A look of Intent. "You got a lil minute?" he asked quietly. "Come out to the car with me." He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, slow, teasing, damn near touching mine again. Before I could answer, Amina's voice cut in. "Uh-uh, Noles," she said, sitting up straighter in her chair like she hadn't been half asleep five seconds ago. "Don't you see that woman gettin' her hair pressed out? We don't have time for you to swell it back up. Gone on now."
The shop burst into giggles. I laughed too, heat creeping up my cheeks. "I know that's right," Jaz chimed in from behind me, comb still in hand. "Her hair thick as hell."
Noles groaned low in his throat, straightening up with exaggerated disappointment. "I need dat before this lil event tonight," he said, looking at my head like it personally offended him. "I'm on yo ass, I'm tellin' you." He leaned down once more and pecked my lips, quick and sweet, then backed away, flashing that grin that always made my chest tighten. "I'll see you later," he said. The door dinged again, and the shop settled back into its rhythm. blow dryers humming, women laughing low, stylists moving like a rhythm they'd been born into. After we finished, we stopped by the perfume shop, testing soft florals and warm ambers until we each found something that felt like us. Then we separated for the evening.
When I made it home, the house was quiet except for the faint echo of bass from outside. Half a bottle of D'usse sat on the kitchen counter, the glass beside it still wet at the rim.I set my keys down gently, like I didn't want to disturb the air. I moved through the hallway slow, the smell of his cologne drifting toward me long before I pushed open the bedroom door. He was laid flat on his back across the bed, one arm thrown over his forehead, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling in that deep, heavy way he only breathed when he was truly knocked out. The mug on his face didn't match the softness in the rest of him.
I smiled without meaning to. I took him in piece by piece. the way his eyebrows tightened even in sleep; the curve of his lips; the rise of muscle under his skin; the tattoos across his chest catching the faint lamplight. He didn't have on anything but briefs and socks. My heart pulled at the sight of him, a familiar ache I'd been trying not to name. The way I loved that man was beyond reason. Some days it felt like devotion. Other days obsession. And in the quiet like this... it felt like prayer. I crossed to the dresser and slipped my bonnet over my pressed hair, tucking the ends neatly. Then I turned and walked back toward the bed, climbing over him slow, settling myself above his hips like my body was magnetic to his. The mattress dipped under my weight. His breath shifted.
I pulled his dick out of his brief massaging it and kissing it in every spot visible until he started to grow in my hands. I flicked my eyes up seeing him awake. His eyes low on me with a lazy grin on his face. I filled my mouth with spit before letting it drip down from my lips to the tip of his dick before I took him in my mouth whole to the back of my throat.
I heard him groan out lowly before I felt his hands on the side of my face He tilted my head lightly so that his dick would stay far in my mouth but my eyes were trained on him. He thrusted into my mouth repeatedly while groaning and bitinghis lip but never taking his eyes off mine. I felt spit drip down my chin and tears down my face as he continued to thrust in my mouth.
'Fuuuckkk" He breathed out loud pulling out of my mouth letting me catch my breath quick before he stuffed his dick back In my throat. I moaned clinching my throat muscles around him making him moan out. He pulled back but he was too late. I felt him release in my throat. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before shifting my movements.
I leaned forward, brushing my lips across his as a shiver ran through me. I kissed him again, slower this time, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, my heart beating too fast. His hands roamed up my back, pulling me down against his chest until I melted there, breathing him in. "I thought you was gon' leave me sleep," he mumbled against my mouth. "I wasn't," I whispered. "I told you I missed you."
He lifted his head to kiss me deeper, fingers curling into my waist, guiding me closer until our breaths tangled. He kissed me like he was remembering every night he lost, every dream I held him through, every moment we refused to name out loud. My spirit trembled. My body answered.
"Yiyi" he murmured, voice dropping, heavy with want and something else, relief, maybe. Gratitude. A need he hadn't learned to say out loud. I cupped his face in my hands, pressing my forehead to his. His eyes closed slowly, like he was letting something inside him loosen.
The room thickened with heat. His hands guided my movements, slow at first, then deeper, my breath catching against his shoulder. The world blurred, softened, dissolved around the edges. The lamp flickered. My skin warmed. Mychest tightened. My spirit felt like it was floating out of my body and settling somewhere on top of his heartbeat.
He whispered my name like a promise. I whispered his like a plea. My fingers tangled in the sheets as we moved together, slow at first, then urgent in the way only love can be urgent. His grip tightened at my waist. My breath stuttered. His lips brushed my throat, my shoulder, my collarbone. A quiet moan escaped me small, involuntary, honest.
And just when the moment swelled into something that felt too big for the room, too heavy for language, too sacred for breath. He flipped me gently beneath him, his movements deliberate, his eyes locked on mine like he needed me anchored to the earth while he let himself unravel as he slid in and out of me making me bite my bottom lip. "Look at me," he murmured.
_______
The ride over had been quiet . the air in the car felt tight. Not uneasy, just... heavy with thoughts neither of us had found the courage to say yet. Outside, the sun was dipping, leaving streaks of lavender and gold across the sky, making the big white event building look damn near holy in the distance. But my spirit wasn't calm. Not even a little. It had been stirring since I got dressed, whispering at the back of my thoughts like someone tugging on my sleeve. I'd prayed through it. I'd breathed through it. I'd ignored it. Nothing settled it.
When we pulled into the parking lot, my stomach clenched tight, a quiet ache blooming beneath my ribs. I didn't know why. Just that the ancestors had their eyes wide open tonight. Noles guided me into the event with his hand on the small of my back'. That was the thing about him. He didn't haveto do too much in public. Just one touch from him, and I knew where I belonged.
We were almost thirty minutes late, so we didn't arrive with everybody else. The room was already full. a chandelier glittering above us, the air thick with money, and perfume. These weren't regular people. These were elite families. Old names. Old money. Politicians. The type of folks who carried power in their posture and sin in their smiles. A world far from the one I grew up in. A world I'd stepped into because I loved a man whose last name carried weight and shadow both.
The closer we got to the main table, the more my chest tightened. I spotted the rest of the family across the room gathered around a round table . Juste standing tall in the center, Jules off to the side with a drink, Nia beside him but not touching him, Pierre laughing with Amina and Chiana. Their energies were tangled. Off. my spirit felt it before my eyes saw it .
"Y'all late, Noles." Juste didn't even try to hide the irritation in his voice as we walked up. "Damn, I didn't even realize that" Noles said, nonchalant. I cut my eyes at him and smacked my lips. He glanced down at me and grinned like he knew he was gon' hear about that later.
I slipped away from him, moving toward Chiana and Amina. I picked up a glass of champagne from the tray on the table, letting the cold stem settle into my palms as I sipped. Amina didn't waste time. "I don't care what you say, Chi. somethin' goin' on with Nia," she muttered, eyes locked across the room. "You right, Mina," Chiana said softly. "But that's married folks’ business. If she wanted us to know, she would tell us." I glanced toward Nia and Jules. Nia's shoulders were tight, jaw clenched. Jules' hands kept running over his beard like he was trying to keep himself together.
"Nia been off for a lil minute now," I murmured, spirit stirring. "What's going on?" Amina nodded her head toward them now standing across the ballroom. Sure enough , Nia and Jules were standing close, too close not to be arguing, but far enough apart to show it wasn't no playful back-and-forth. Their mouths were moving quick. Their bodies were rigid. Whatever it was, it wasn't small. "That right there," Amina whispered. "It's way too much of that goin' on lately."
"I think we should stay out of it," Chiana said, voice serious. "Nobody's husband gon' be happy if they find out we meddlin'."
