The hardwood floors were smooth beneath my feet. The living room was cozy yet sophisticated with a plush sectional that looked perfect for lounging and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. A few pieces of art hung around, each one telling a story of its own.
As I made my way to the two bedrooms, I was struck by how calm and inviting each space felt. The master bedroom was a sanctuary, complete with a king-sized bed dressed in soft, luxurious linens. The second bedroom was just as nice, perfect for guests or even a home office if Mythic ever needed one.
I stepped out onto the large balcony, taking in the fresh air and the view. I could see the rooftop pool and terrace of the building. It looked like a tempting oasis that made me wish I could dive in right then. I leaned against the railing, feeling as if I was in a movie. This place was a reflection of who he was—ambitious, stylish, and unapologetically bold.
I turned away from the balcony, basking in the sense of peace that washed over me as I walked back inside. I headed toward the front door to grab the bags I had left behind. As I approachedthe foyer, something on the table caught my eye. A note lay there, neatly folded, and curiosity pulled me closer.
As I picked it up, I noticed a credit card sitting beside it. My heart skipped a beat as I read the note:Use the card to fill the fridge and get whatever else you need. Treat this like it’s your house.
My smile was so wide that my cheeks stung from the strain. For Mythic, this was such a simple gesture, but it meant so much to me. God was showing out for me, even amid all the hurt and disappointment I was carrying. Mythic was so loving, so attentive, that I had to remind myself that I was living a nightmare.
I took a deep breath, clutching the note and card tightly, knowing that I needed to focus on the good as long as it lasted.
MYTHIC GREY
I could feel the tension of the day easing away as I got off the elevator at my condo on Indiana Avenue. I had left my manager at Enchant to close up for me, and honestly, I didn’t even care about the club or the streets right now. All I wanted was to be with Avi. Spending these last two days with her had shown me the difference in being with a woman you want to be around. Nothing else really mattered, and it was hard to focus on anything or anyone else.
The moment I walked in, a savory, appetizing aroma invaded my nostrils, and I smiled. I followed the scent into the kitchen, and there she was—Aviana, my beautiful distraction—standing at the stove. Her hair was pulled back into a lazy, messy bun, and she was wearing one of my shirts, which barely covered her.
The sight of her was everything.
I leaned against the doorframe, allowing the moment to sink in.
She turned around, surprise flashing across her face. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my crib,” I jokingly reminded her. “I can’t come to my own crib?”
Aviana glanced at the clock above the refrigerator, then she looked at me, tilting her head dramatically. “It’s late. Don’t you need to be at home?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I am home.”
Her brows creased as she stirred whatever was cooking. It smelled like pasta.
“How have you been able to spend so much time with me?” I knew that question had been on the tip of her tongue for the last two days, but she didn’t want to burst our bubble by bringing up Lelani.
I hesitated for a second, then decided to finally tell her. “Lelani faked having cancer,” I said, watching her reaction. Her face dropped. “What? Why would she do something like that?”
“Because I love you, and she knew it.”
Aviana stopped stirring and then slowly faced me. Her expression was a blur of admiration and surprise.
“She didn’t want me to leave her. She felt like it was going to happen at any moment, so she lied to keep me. Guess she figured I would never leave her at a time like that, and she was right. I was about to leave her. You hadn’t even mentioned leaving Damar, and I knew you probably wouldn’t have, but I knew that I wasn’t giving her my all because I was in love with you.”
Aviana’s shoulders sank as a pout of admiration formed on her lips.
“She must have felt that shit,” I went on, “so she made up having cancer.”
“But her head was always hurting. You said that she was sick and throwing up and shit.”
I chuckled wryly. “I guess she was just pretending. She must have taken something to make her throw up.”
“That’s crazy. How did you find out?”
“She got in an accident the other night.”
Aviana’s eyes bulged.
“I was in the hospital with her all night. That’s why I hadn’t gotten any sleep. When her surgeon came in explaining that she would be in there for a while, I asked if she could still get her biopsy. That’s how it all came out. They had no record of her having cancer.”
