“Yeah... that’s all for her.”
When he started Echelon Express three years ago, Najee’s goals had always been clear. He didn’t just want to make moremoney; he wanted to elevate his purpose. After catching a case that could’ve cost him everything, hustling in the streets could no longer be his long-term plan. And if it could, it’d come with risks he was no longer willing to take.
He saw the need for a reliable, luxury transportation service and jumped headfirst into the field. The lane he created for himself had opened many doors. It wasn’t just for himself, but for people like him who needed proof that change was possible.
The next level, the thing he had up his sleeve, was for his mama. Echelon Express’ mission statement expanded in honor of Candice Drayton. Until the ball was back rolling on what he wanted to do, Najee had kept it under wraps. Now, with a year behind him, he was ready to make his mama and himself even prouder.
Najee may have been a product of his environment, but it didn’t mean he had to stay there. He didn’t let it keep him there. He used it as fuel, not a chain. That was the real power in choosing which direction he wanted his life to go in, even when circumstances and the streets had already tried to write his ending for him.
Renae wasn’t home when Najee finally made it there.
That should’ve been a red flag, considering she worked from home on Fridays, but Najee chalked it up to her possibly having changed her schedule. A schedule he thought he knew better than his own. She didn’t know he was coming home, sohe didn’t expect a grand welcome or confetti at the door, but her presence would’ve been enough.
Even a greeting on the Ring would’ve sufficed, but that didn’t happen either. Walking into a quiet, empty space felt off and unwelcoming like a mothafucka. He closed the front door, taking a slow glance around. Everything looked the same, but the vibe was different. The scent of peach plug-ins lingered in the air. Her throw blanket was draped over the back of the couch. Fuzzy house slippers were right in front of the corner spot she loved to snuggle up the most.
He frowned when he saw a vase of roses on the coffee table. To his knowledge, Renae hated flowers. Whoever sent them wasn’t aware or had forgotten. Eyeing the written note on the card attached to them, Najee exhaled.Get well soon, friend,he read to himself. He recalled her coming down with a cold during one of their visitation days. She always got sick right around the time when the weather didn’t know what season to stay in.
Najee moved through the house in silence, eyes scanning for anything that felt out of place. But it wasn’t what was there, it was what was missing. It was as if all traces of him had been erased except a few pictures in frames scattered about.
He ventured into the kitchen, noticing the fridge didn’t have his favorite juices that she claimed to love too. She had cooked breakfast but clearly didn’t have time to wash the dishes. Another red flag that he tried not to let throw him off.
Renae didn’t let dishes sit except for a cup here or there. Pots, pans, and plates with food scraps would get cleaned before she left the kitchen. There were a few new appliances, added magnets on the fridge, and even a different cereal he didn’t recall her liking in the pantry. Taking everything in, Najee felt like he had stepped into a version of his life that kept on going without him. And it had, butdamn. This was yet another reality check.
A sense of belongingness washed over him when he made it to the bedroom. The bed was made, and his clothes were still inside the dresser. They were in the closet, too, but the space still felt empty. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there. Tilting his head backward, Najee stared at the ceiling like there were answers up there. Like God would lean down and whisper what he was looking for. Honestly, Najee wasn’t even sure. What he did know was that he felt like a visitor in his own home.
After plugging his personal and work phones into the charger that was still on the side of his bed, Najee peeled off his clothes. Even the laundry basket where he discarded his threads was new. He turned the shower on before using the toilet. It felt like forever since he had the luxury of pissing and taking a shit in peace. He stepped inside the shower, let the hot water run over his head, and closed his eyes.
Steam clouded the bathroom, mimicking his thoughts. This wasn’t how he pictured coming home. Tucked away in his cell, he dreamed of Renae welcoming him with hugs, kisses, happy tears, some sloppy ass head, tight pussy, and a home-cooked meal. All he received was silence and contemplation. Regret damn near settled as well.
By the time he stepped out, drying off and wrapping the towel around his waist, over an hour had passed. It felt good to be on no one’s time but his own. After putting on lotion, brushing his teeth, flossing, and cleaning his ears, Najee threw on a fresh white tee and sweat shorts.
With a growling stomach, he grabbed his personal phone and headed back downstairs. He took a seat on the couch and yawned. The lockscreen was flooded with notifications that he didn’t bother checking. Unlocking it, he was about to make a call when he heard the garage open.
Najee sat up on the couch, and his heart began to beat a little quicker. He smiled, hearing Renae yap on the phone, missing the sound of her voice that wasn’t through a jail call.
“Girl, yes. I’m about to take a nap and be of no use for the rest of the day,” she said, entering the garage door.
When she stepped into the living room, Renae looked like she’d seen a ghost. Not in a fearful way, but more like her soul... her heart, had returned to her body. He’d taken both when he left. Mouth ajar, she dropped her purse and her phone where she stood and ran to where Najee was sitting.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, falling into him.
Najee tried standing, but she’d rushed him so quickly, they fell onto the couch. Renae threw her arms around his neck and straddled his lap, eliminating the space between them.
“Baby,” she cried, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’m home,” Najee soothed, rubbing her back.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered against his shoulder. “I missed yousomuch,” she repeated herself, hugging him tighter.
Her body molded to his like it was meant to be. He held her, arms wrapping tightly around her waist, and grounding them both. He felt her heartbeat against his solid chest, rapid and steady all at once. She needed this hug more than he did. The thing was, Najee didn’t know what he needed right now. He was conflicted in the worst way.
The scent he dreamed of smelling on her skin didn’t hit him like he thought it would. She was wearing something new. It wasn’t unpleasant... just not anything he was familiar with.
She kissed his neck and face before pulling back to look at him. Her eyes were glossy with tears of joy. The real kind that you get when someone you love walks back into your life after making it through a season of uncertainty. Najee smiled,running his hands up and down her body. She’d gotten much thicker, but he wasn’t complaining.
“You look good, baby,” he complimented, wiping a lone tear from her cheek.
“You do too,” she said quietly, voice a little hoarse. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”
