“I want…” I exhaled slowly. “To feel good.”
They both just looked at me.
“I want to feel something. I want to feel like a woman again. Desired. Wanted. Chosen.” My voice cracked a little, but I didn’t cry. “I love my husband. But there is an itch… and it’s deep. And it’s been there for a long time. I need it scratched.”
Rivah covered her mouth and laughed. “Niv… you gon’ fuck her up.”
I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
Niv turned to me slowly, like she was about to deliver a life changing sermon on a Sunday morning.
“Because, Khloe… you come from money. So does your husband. You both know luxury, polish, and control. But Stacks?” She held up the picture on her phone again like it was a warning label. “Stacks comes from the dirt. The straight-up, hood-raised, grind-hard world. Everything that man has, he bled for. There are no trust funds, no safety nets. Just him and the life he made with his own hands. That kind of man and the way he moves is different from what you’re used to.”
Rivah raised her glass and added, “Once you go hood, it's almost impossible to come back.”
I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I knew they were right. I wasn’t oblivious to what I was about to walk into. I just didn’t care anymore.
“Set it up, Niv,” I said flatly, still staring out at the pool. “But this stays between us. Just us three, please.”
Niv nodded, already tapping into her phone.
I put my shades on and crossed my legs, sinking into that lounge chair like a woman who had already made peace with the fire she was about to play in.
“Kairo thinks this is a game,” I said quietly. “But I’m not playing anymore. I crave mental stimulation. Intimacy. Passion. Not just another Birkin bag or a G-Wagon. That stuff doesn’t mean shit if I’m going to bed empty.”
Rivah tilted her head at me, curious.
“So this is just sex?” she asked. “No feelings?”
I hesitated. That part… I didn’t want to lie about it.
“I want it to be,” I said. “I need it to be.”
Niv looked at me, stone-faced. “Khloe. You sure? Because this ain’t the type of man you tangle with lightly. He’s not for the weak-hearted. If you go in just trying to fuck, make sure you don’t come out falling.”
I nodded slowly.
“Falling in love is not something that’s even on my mind. I’ve spent years making everyone else happy. Putting my needs last. Hoping and praying Kairo would meet me halfway. I’m done begging for love in a language he doesn’t speak.”
They stared at me in silence.
The moment Kairo offered me that hall pass, something shifted. Not just in our marriage, but in me. He thought it was just a threat—just talk to shut me up for the night.
But I’ve played the good girl all my life. It was time I learned what it means to play for me.
On the ride home from Sunday dinner, I stopped by a few stores under the pretense of needing cleaning supplies and flowers to freshen the bouquet in my kitchen window. The truth was that I just needed a reason to be alone. Wandering down aisles gave me space to think. Space to breathe. I had Coffee in my ear the whole time, and honestly, I didn’t know where I’d be mentally without her. If I didn’t hire her as my therapist soon, I was doing myself a disservice because the way she kept me from snapping and flipping Kairo’s world upside down deserved a paycheck.
“I’m going to have to come and meet this Niv woman,” Coffee said after I told her about everything—Stacks included.
“You’re going to meet her soon at Kennedi’s Sweet Sixteen. Don’t worry.” I smiled as I sifted through vases, picturing thatmoment. Those two were going to love each other. A little too much, if you asked me. I’d have to remind them that I was the glue that made that connection possible.
“Okay, back to the important question,” she said. “I know Kairo said something about a hall pass… verbally… but you need to get that shit in writing.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I could’ve seen my brain.
“That’s the attorney in you talking. Not the best friend I called to vent.”
“That’s the attorney best friend you called to vent,” she corrected. “Don’t play with me.”
