Hated packing.Hated the way her apartment already felt like something I was stepping out of instead of away from.Hated how goodbye had weight now.We stood by the door, her arms around my waist, my hands framing her face.
“This part doesn’t get easier,” she shared.
“No,” I agreed.“But it doesn’t make it wrong.”
She nodded, eyes bright.“Be safe.”
“I always am,” I confirmed, then added, because it mattered, “I’ll call.”
“I know.”
We kissed one last time—slow, grounding, a promise without pressure—and then I was gone.
Back on the street.Back on the bike.Back in motion.
But something was different now.
Because when I rode south, I wasn’t leaving her behind.
I was carrying her with me in the only way I could for now.But in the future, we wouldn’t be apart.
Thinking of that future made all the difference.
Chapter19
Nita
Happiness crept up on me like it didn’t want to spook me.
It showed up in small, quiet ways.In the way I woke up smiling for no reason.In how my shoulders stayed relaxed through meetings that would’ve once had me braced for impact.In the way my apartment felt warmer, fuller, like someone had rearranged the air.
I was the happiest I had ever been.
That truth startled me every time I acknowledged it.Because nothing about my life on paper had changed.Same job.Same city.Same routines.Same carefully constructed independence I had worn like armor for years.
Except Dante.
Long distance was harder than I wanted to admit.
I missed him in ways that surprised me.I ached for him in moments that felt stupidly domestic.When I reached for a mug and remembered how he always warmed his hands around his coffee first.When I folded laundry and caught myself glancing at the doorway like he might walk through it, jacket slung over his shoulder, that half-smile he wore when he thought I was being too serious.
Every call helped.
And every call made the absence of his physical presence worse.
We talked every night.Sometimes long, sometimes just enough to hear each other breathe.He never pushed for more.Never pressed for definitions.He showed up exactly as promised, steady and present even from miles away.
That steadiness scared me.Because it made me want things I had trained myself not to need.Things I had given up hoping for.
Saturday was for my nieces.
Char dropped them off just after nine, both girls vibrating with energy, hair in braids with mismatched beads they had picked for themselves, sneakers already half-unlaced because patience was not their strong suit.
“Aunt Nita!”Elaina, the five-year-old shrieked, launching herself into my legs like a missile.
I laughed, steadying myself.“Good morning to you too.”
Jaihova, three-year-old followed more cautiously, arms up, eyes bright.“Park?”
