Princess
Monday | 1:01pm
I couldn’t stopcrying. My entire body was trembling as my mother held me tighter than she ever had, rocking us both in the back seat. My face was buried in her neck, her hand smoothing over my head like she was trying to wipe the pain out of me, like she was praying the years of damage could be undone with one embrace. But nothing could erase my father’s words.
“Take Princess. Keep her! I don’t give a shit anymore what Don wants. I just… please… don’t kill me! Keep her!”
His voice was still stuck in my chest. Not just the words but the way he said them, like survival was noble, and not selfish. It made sense to trade your daughter for peace. I shook in my mother’s arms. I couldn’t even catch my breath. I was exhausted.Emotionally drained. I had given everything I had to people who just wanted to survive. Nyce included.
Then, the driver’s side window rolled down, and Nyce’s voice came through, deep and low. “Yo B, drive them around to the main entrance. Let them grab whatever they need, then drop ’em atThe Lucienne. Top floor suite’s already booked.”
He didn’t say my name. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t even look back. I blinked fast, my eyes burning. What the hell did he mean by“drop them”? Like it was over? Just like that? My chest caved in. I pushed away from my mother and yanked the car door open before she could stop me.
“Princess! Stay here!” she shouted, but I was already outside.
“Nyce!” I screamed. He turned just as I ran up to him, fists swinging. I didn’t care who saw. I didn’t care what it looked like. I hit his chest, his arms, anything I could reach. “You’re really just gonna keep acting like last night meant nothing? Like I’m just anotherfuckingdeal to you?!”
“Stop.” His voice was hard, but he didn’t push me away.
“After everything we said… everything wedid… how the hell can you be this cold?!”
“Princess!” my mother cried, rolling down the window. “Stop it!”
“Tell the truth!” I yelled, still swinging. “Tell me it meant something!”
Nyce finally grabbed my wrists and spun me, pressing me up against the SUV. “Shit was just business,” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s all it ever was.”
“You’re lying,” I said, breathless.
He didn’t say anything. His jaw flexed, and his grip loosened. Then he pulled me into him and held me so tight I couldn’t move. His lips brushed against my neck, and my knees nearly gave out. “You’re free now,” he said quietly, voice strained. “Go do better than a nigga like me, Princess. Focus on your happiness, ’cause I’ll never be the type of man you need.”
I sobbed, broken and shaking. “Why would you do this?”
He stepped back and looked me in the eye. I saw it. The ache, the emotion, and the fear. He felt something for me. I knew it. I could see it in the way he looked at me like I meant more than he’d ever admit. But he wasn’t going to fight for it. He wasn’t going to choose me. He licked his lips and tossed the duffle bag over his shoulder.
“Youcame on to me, remember?Youwanted me. I told you I couldn’t.”
I slapped him with all my might, and his head snapped to the side, but he didn’t react. He just closed his eyes for a second, jaw flexing. I stormed back to the SUV, climbed in, and slammed the door so loud it echoed. “Drive,” I told Belvin, choking on my tears. “Just go.”
My mother was already praying out loud beside me, her hand gripping mine, her voice trembling but steady. “God, benear. Be a fence around my daughter. Heal every wound, Father. Cover her mind, her heart, her spirit. Don’t let this break her…”
I couldn’t look at her. I just stared out the window instead, eyes searching. Nyce jogged over to a black car, and I never felt more disposable in my life.
When the SUV made it around to the front of the house, it looked nothing like the polished, pristine fortress it used to be. In just a couple of days, it seemed the house had absorbed the chaos, the secrets, and the shame. Now, it wore it on the outside for everyone to see.
My stomach turned as my mother and I climbed out of the backseat. As we stepped inside, I paused just inside the foyer, letting the weight of the past settle heavily on my shoulders. I hated this house. I hated everything it represented. The facade. The pain. The lies. The image of perfection masking all the ugly truths that had been tucked neatly into corners like fine china no one ever used.
My mother stood beside me, her posture stiff, her jaw clenched. She hadn’t said much since we left the church. Just silent prayers. But the second we stepped foot inside, I saw something shift in her. “I’m done with this,” she said, voice quiet but full of conviction. “With him. With this house. With all of it.”
I nodded. “It’s for the best.”
She glanced over at me, her eyes shining but steady. “You’ve always looked at me as being weak, don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” I said instantly. “But I think you’ve been surviving, and now you’re choosing to live. That’s not weakness, Ma. That’s brave.”
Her lips trembled, but she nodded and turned away, heading down the hall. I followed her, and we moved like shadows through the estate, moving from room to room, pulling clothes, toiletries, shoes, and whatever felt necessary to start over. Each time I stepped into another part of the house, another memory crawled out of the walls. Holidays with fake smiles. Dinners that turned into arguments. The sound of my mother crying through closed doors. I wanted to burn it all down. When we reached the master bedroom, she paused by the bed.
“I should’ve left years ago,” she whispered.
