I shook my head. Nah. I never told him where I lived. But did I really have to?
That answer was no. Booda had a way of getting his hands on whatever information he wanted. I knew that, so his being on my doorstep shouldn’t come as much of a surprise.
“Who is it?” I called out, my hand on the doorknob.
“Open the door, Koko,” Booda replied, and through the peephole, I watched his shape shift closer to the door as if he leaned into it.
I froze as longing, love, anger, resentment, and the bitter sting of abandonment all fought for dominance. I loved him, but I hated him. I trusted him, but then again, I didn’t. Part of me wanted to let him in, and the other part wanted to leave him out to dry the same way he’d done me.
Booda must’ve felt my spirit because as soon as I made up my mind to walk away, he said, “I knocked out of respect. Let me in.”
I leaned my forehead against the door, my breath spiking. Hearing his voice cracked open doors I’d spent forever trying to seal shut. Made me forget he left me wondering if I was crazy for ever believing anything he’d ever said.
But I had to stand my ground. No more settling for scraps when I deserved the whole damn meal. I'd spent too many years putting Booda, with his sweet talk and promises, ahead of my own needs.
Those days were done. Weren't they? The woman standing here now was worth more than diamonds. At least that was what I told myself each morning. I was priceless, and it was time I treated myself that way.
"Go away," I said firmly, my voice betraying none of the war inside me.
“That’s not an option. You know I don’t move like that. Not when it comes to you. You still got all of me,” he said, and my treacherous fingers inched toward the deadbolt, muscle memory from all those times I'd welcomed him back.
Then, I remembered the loneliness I’ve felt over these past few months, and quickly snapped out of it. My hand fell away from the lock, and I took a step back.
“I can’t let you back in.” I wasn’t speaking only about the door.
He exhaled. “I tried to leave you alone. Even told myself I was doing the right thing. I should let you breathe, let you have your space.”
“But that shit don’t sit right with me. You know I don’t do distance when it comes to you.”
I took a step forward. Then another, and my palms flattened against the door as I leaned into it.
“It don’t matter where I go, what I do, or who I’m around,” he continued. “Everything in me still points back to you. Every time.”
His voice dropped, and I could tell he’d also moved closer.
“I refuse to move through this life or the next without you. You’re where my soul rests… and it’ll never settle anywhere else.”
My chest tightened, breath coming slower, heavier.
“So no,” he whispered. “I’m not going nowhere. Not when it comes to you.”
Silence stretched, then—
“Koko. Please.”
Please? That word undid me faster than any amount of begging ever could. Booda never said please, not to anyone, not once in all the years I'd known him.
I felt myself unraveling at the seams, wanting desperately to believe that after all this time, I'd finally cracked his armor. But I still had to wonder what game he was playing now.
And why was I still so ready to lose?
Before I realized what I was doing, I unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door. Then, for a second, I just looked at him. Really—looked—at—him.
Booda hadn’t changed the way I had expected. He was still tall, still broad, and still sexy with an aura that made the air around him feel denser. His chest was stout, his arms thick, and his hoodie did nothing to hide it.
His skin carried that same melanin-rich tone, smooth even under the moonlight. His taper was sharp, his waves lay neatly, and the gray in his mustache and goatee added to his handsomeness instead of aging him.
Tattoos climbed his neck and disappeared under his sleeves, and when his mouth moved, that dimple showed. His brows were still thick, and his lashes were still longer than mine. And I was still jealous of them both.
