“I’m reading you,” I said. “And you let me.”
Her lips twitched, like she wanted to smile but wouldn’t let herself. “What else do you wanna know?”
I smirked. “You ever feel seen by anybody?”
She blinked, surprised again. Then sat back in her seat, eyes narrowing just a little. “Seen how?”
“Seen for who you are when the church doors close, when the makeup’s off, and when that guard’s not up.”
She looked at me like I hit a nerve she wasn’t ready to name, then she said, “Once.”
I kept my gaze on her. “And?”
“He let me down.”
I nodded slowly. “That pain doesn’t fade, huh? It just hides.”
She stared at me for a long beat. “You talk like somebody who’s been through some shit.”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
She didn’t ask what. She just picked up her fork again and started pushing salad around on her plate. “Why are we talking about all of this, Nyce?”
“‘Cause I’m tryna understand what kind of woman I’m dealing with. And more importantly…” I paused. “What kind of woman I really collected. You know, outside of being the preacher’s daughter.” Princess glanced up quickly, caught the weight of what I said, and immediately looked away like it rattled her a little. “You got siblings?” I asked, switching lanes.
She shook her head. “Nope. Just me.”
“Tough.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is.”
I could feel it then. Her loneliness. I let the silence sit for a minute. She needed that moment. Then, I sipped from my glass again. “Aight, so now I gotta ask…” I said, casual as hell, but looking dead at her. “How the fuck you end up linked up with this nigga Don?”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Like… outta all the niggas in the world, that’s who your father planned to marry you off to? A forty-something, build-a-scandal-ass nigga?” She gave me a look but didn’t speak yet. Just tilted her head and crossed her arms like she was trying to decide if I was serious or trying to play her. I was deadass. “I mean, damn,” I said. “You really like ‘em washed up, huh?”
She scoffed. “Wow. That’s cute.”
“You like older, lame ass niggas because it feels safe?”
Princess rolled her eyes as she reached for her water and took a few sips. I caught that twitch in her lip like she was fighting a smirk. “You really have no filter, do you?”
“Not when I’m tryna understand a pretty woman who’s way too sharp to be playing house with a corrupt civil servant in orthopedic shoes.”
She looked at me for a long time, then shook her head and sighed. “It wasn’t about love,” she finally said. “It was about control.”
“Yours or his?”
“My father’s,” she admitted.
I tapped my knuckle against the table, slowly. “So he sold you off like muthafuckas did back in the day?”
“Pretty much.”
“And you went along with it?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” she said. “And before you get all judgmental…”
