“Well, are you trying to get to know him, or are you just trying to fuck?”
I paused.
“Exactly,” she said. “Because if it’s just sex, then keep it short and cute. But if you’re looking for something to scratch the itch AND stimulate your brain, then no ma’m. Hell, better yet, don’t even do the shit.”
That threw me off. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re setting yourself up for nothing good. You’re still married, Khloe. Hall pass or not. You go in, get what you want, and get out. You don’t ask favorite colors and childhood traumas.”
I sat up straighter on the bed. “I’m not trying to mentally fall for someone, Niv. I’m not even wired like that. But I’m also not trying to fuck someone whose brain cells are nonexistent. I just want to ask simple things—like who are you? What do you do? Are you emotionally unstable? Like… basics.”
Niv laughed so hard I had to pull the phone from my ear. “Oh yeah, I can definitely tell you never really dated before. Better yet, you have never lived. Girl, you’re doing too damn much.”
I groaned dramatically. “See? This is too much. I can’t even have a heaux phase in peace.”
“That’s because you’re not built for the heaux phase!” she said between laughs. “You want a structured heaux phase with good convo, mutual respect, and follow-up texts. That’s not how this works.”
“Okay, so what now? Just ignore the whole thing?”
Niv exhaled.. “Yes, please. Forget I even sent you Stacks’ number. You and that man are from two different planets.”
I laughed softly. “You’re right. It’s just too much mentally… and I already got a full plate.”
“Exactly. Recenter your focus,” she said in herI’m-being-your-wise-homegirlvoice. “And next time we get together, we’ll go back to the drawing board. I’ll come up with something lighter… like a blow up doll for you to fuck or some shit.”
I laughed. “Alright, girl. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you.”
“Love you more.”
I hung up, tossed my phone to the side, and stared at the ceiling again.
This is what you always do, my inner voice whispered.You get close to doing something for yourself and then let somebody else’s logic or expectations talk you out of it.
Every time I found the nerve to put me first, I let someone else’s fear, opinion, or wisdom pull me back in line to convinceme that it was the “right” thing to do. That it was “smart” or “safe.” I did that shit with my career, I did it in motherhood, and I damn sure did it in my marriage by prioritizing Kairo’s peace over my own.
I turned on my side. I wasn’t mad at Coffee or Niv. They were doing what good friends do, trying to protect me. But I was tired of always needing protection. Tired of sitting on the sidelines of my own life, tired of being the fixer, the peacekeeper, the one who made sure everybody else was okay even when I wasn’t. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel alive.
So I whispered to myself,Just do it. Text him before you talk yourself out of it again.
I didn’t give myself time to overthink.
I pulled up the thread Niv had sent me, clicked his contact to text, and then typed:
Hey, this is Khloe. Is this Stacks?
And hit send before I could change my mind.
I sat there staring at the text like it was a ticking bomb. Nothing happened at first, and for a split second I told myself good. Maybe he wouldn’t respond. Maybe it would fizzle out, and I could pretend I never sent it.
Then my phone lit up with an incoming call. My heart dropped.
Bitch, answer.
I sat up straight panicking before I finally accepted and brought it to my ear.
“Hello?” I said, way too breathy.
