She tried folding her arms but stopped mid-way, remembering the handcuffs were finally off. Her wrists were free now, and she rubbed them absentmindedly. "After all these years?"
"How hard is that for you to believe?"
"I believe that you shouldn't continue to waste someone else's time if you aren't in love with them. That's as simple as it gets. Why continue to string anyone along if your feelings are no longer there? Do her a favor and call it off. I'm sure she's noticed the shift by now—your energy toward her. If that's how you treat her all the time, I would've left a long time ago. It's not worth the flashy shit, the money, the cars, or the bragging."
Her words hit harder than I expected. Not because they hurt, but because they were true.
"I don't know, honestly. I've put up with that shit for too long. Most of it is pity. Like I said, she damn near saved me from death. She's loyal, despite me checking out of the relationship a long time ago."
"You'd rather juggle two balls?"
I shrugged, not thinking that far ahead. Synthia was making shit mathematical and complicated. Though I ain't never been known to back down from a challenge, she was putting her point of view into perspective for me.
I know what I have with Trecee, and it ain't worth keeping. It sure as hell ain't worth fighting for. I wouldn't jump in front of a bullet to save Trecee, but I'd jump in front of a moving train for Synthia.
I didn't have any options to weigh out, and it wasn't debatable.
Synthia is the kind of woman you feel crazy for letting go later on in life. I fumbled her the first time, and I'm not doing it again. I know her worth, and I need her to understand that she's not some sick ass fantasy for me.
"Knowing that I'll have you is worth the risk," I stated with honesty. "I ain't never been known to lie."
She looked at me for a long moment, her eyes searching my face.
"Tilt your head to the side for me," the doctor had instructed earlier, and I'd obeyed, all while keeping my eyes on Synthia. Watching her stiff demeanor. The way she held herself like she was trying to build a wall between us.
But I'd break that wall down. Brick by brick if I had to.
"But you aren't telling Trecee the truth about us either," she said now, her voice quiet.
"And you think I won't? She ain't asked me shit 'bout you."
"I feel so bad about this when I know I shouldn't, though. I ain't grimy like this."
"You think she wouldn't play checkers?" I shot back. "Trecee don't give a fuck 'bout nobody but herself. I know that shit firsthand. You know it too. Don't belittle your mind thinking I'mmanipulating you either. The shit she pulled tonight proved that too."
Synthia scrunched up her face in confusion. "Huh?"
"Moriah called her tonight. Monterrius cooked some noodles and burnt the pot. She wasn't going to answer the phone, though, even with Moriah calling back-to-back. I got in her shit. Yolanda heard a mouthful from me too, but she wasn't there when none of that shit happened. Yolanda didn't pull up until later on. You were the best thing that ever happened to your little cousins—more like a big sister than anything else. You think I want to be 'round that type of bitch? She wouldn't save her sisters and brothers from a burning building if it meant she had to. That's a selfish ass bitch, and I don't feel sorry for what we're doing, so you shouldn't either."
"A fire, and you're just now saying something?" she shrieked, her eyes widening. She yanked her wrist—forgetting again that the cuffs were off—and took a step back. "Romelo, what the fuck!"
"Chill out. I told you they're safe. They're at my house."
"I wouldn't trust that she's watching them, though. Even with her being there, they're responsible for themselves." She sighed, the weight of worry settling on her shoulders.
She was getting herself all worked up over nothing. I could tell. Her breathing quickened, and her hands started trembling.
"We'll figure something out," I said, stepping closer and placing my hands on her shoulders. Grounding her.
"I've always been their primary caregiver—helping them with homework and everything else. Yolanda and Trecee are just unfit placeholders. I wouldn't blink for two seconds with them around and trust that they'd care for them. They're good kids, you know." Her voice cracked. "When Yolanda put me out, it hurt them the most. They were losing something too, and all my auntie cared about was losing funds that she wasn't puttingtoward her household or on me anyway. I cried for days after that—not because of the circumstances she put me in, but because I knew the outcome. My cousins would get mistreated. There wouldn't be any home-cooked meals anymore, clean clothes for the school week, or making sure they'd get their homework done right. Yolanda would chase men all the time and bring them over. Trecee wanted out, and we'd talk about it all the time. That girl used to be my best friend. I could vent to her about anything, but when she met you, all of that changed. I hated you for that because you played a part in it. I told myself, if a man changes you and has you imitating something or someone else, then he's no good for you."
Her words hung in the air between us—heavy, honest, raw.
"You got that shit all wrong," I said quietly.
"I know that now." She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
We stood there for a moment, the night wrapping around us like a blanket. The compound was silent except for the sound of crickets and the distant hum of Roxx's generator.
