Tiffany looked at her, her brows raising. “Umm. Wait a minute! What got you smiling so hard? Did I miss something?”
“Nooo. You didn’t miss anythin’. Today was a good day, though.”
“Okay! Bitch, spill the beans. I’m listening.”
Tasha pulled the blanket down and sat up, batting her eyes. “So, as I was leaving my appointment today, I met a guy.” A smile played at her lips. “Not just any guy, either, bitch. I met the baseball player, Kenji Riggs.”
Tiffany surveyed her. “Go ‘head then, sis. Did you get his number?”
“No, I didn’t. I told him that if it's meant to be, then we will meet again, and he can get it.”
“You better than me. Shit, I would have probably given up the draws right then on the spot. Kenji Riggs is too damn fine.”
Tasha laughed out loud. “You ain’t never lied.”
Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her. Unknown number. Then it rang again.
She picked it up slowly, thumb hovering before she finally swiped.
“Hello?”
Silence for a beat. Then that familiar voice, she didn’t want to hear.
“Tash.”
Her stomach dropped. She closed her eyes. “Jue, how’d you even get this number?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” he said. There was noise behind him, traffic, a car door slamming, music thumping nearby. “I just… needed to hear your voice again.”
Tasha swallowed hard. “You heard it the other day. Now what?”
He sighed, getting frustrated. “Stop being like that, Tasha. Damn, girl.”
She gave a short, cold laugh. “What is it? What do you want?”
“Look, I know I fucked up, it’s not what you think tho,” he said, voice breaking low. “But I been thinkin’ ‘bout you, stank. Every damn day.”
She looked out the window. The sky was pink and dim, soft like her mood. “You shoulda thought about that before you fucked my friend.”
He didn’t disagree. Hell, he couldn’t. He rubbed his forehead, dropping the phone for a minute. “A’ight, man. I ain’t call to get you upset, I just wanted to check on you.”
Tiffany peeked around the corner, sensing the tension. Tasha turned her face away. “I’m great. Couldn’t be better.”
“I miss you, Tasha girl. You my peace,” he admitted. “I been fucked up out here. Can’t sleep, can’t move right, can’t do nothin’. I just…” He looked out the window at some kids playing nearby.” A nigga just…can’t?—”
“Stop,” she cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear it. You had me, and you betrayed me. So everythin’ you feelin’ now that I’m gone? Good for you, nigga. Live with it.”
She hung up.
The phone slipped from her hand into her lap. For a long time, she just stared at the black screen, her reflection blurry in it. Since she set that fire, life had been quiet in all the wrong ways. No more Juelz. No more laughter. Just doctor visits, and the kind of silence that made her overthink too much.
Most days, she didn't do too much. She just sat at the house, watched movies, and cuddled up with her nephew and niece. Some days were better than others, but the loneliness was steady, like background noise she couldn’t turn off.
She’d gotten used to doing everything herself. Going to appointments, recovering in silence, pretending she was stronger than she really felt. Distant family checked in here and there, people asking if she needed help, but she’d stoppeddepending on anybody to help her. She’d learned how to breathe through the aches and keep it pushing.
People kept saying she looked stronger now, but the truth was, she was just numb. She had to be. Crying about it didn’t change shit, except the tissue you used. Life kept going, and she learned to keep up even when her body begged her not to.
Tiffany came over quietly, sitting beside her. “That’s Juelz?”
