“Do y’all?” he questioned, holding the mic toward Renae, who was crying. “You got somethin’ you wanna say, since we celebratin’ and all? Tell the people what you been up to. Let ‘em congratulate you for being disloyal. Your ass didn’t want to giveme a baby but got the mothafuckin’ audacity to get pregnant by another man. You the worst type of hoe. And to think I was going to make you my wife. Joke’s on you.”
He had so much more to say but decided that was enough for now. Grabbing his glass from the DJ booth, Najee raised it. Hesitantly, those who didn’t chase after Renae, who ran off, lifted their plastic flutes with him. The most awkward silence filled the room as he finished his speech with a toast.
“Yeah, it’s still a celebration. Raise them glasses. Y’all know I never gave a fuck,” he said, making his family and close friends laugh loudly. “To me. To growth, new beginnings, and for still being a real nigga and having my freedom. Don’t ever let a bitch think it’s sweet. That payback is a mothafucka.”
“Exactly, cousin! Cheers!” one of his female cousins shouted.
With that, everyone sipped from their flutes. Orielle stood in shock, not knowing what to do or how to feel. The second-hand embarrassment she felt had her head spinning. When she glanced at her friends, they were sipping the bubbly like nothing had happened. Like, Najee hadn’t just humiliated Renae in front of everyone.
“Are y’all for real right now?” Orielle asked.
“What? I’m not wasting my drink. That was a good speech,” Cheyla said, downing the rest.
Shrugging, Zoey did the same. When the DJ turned the music back on and everyone continued partying, Orielle shook her head and slowly slipped her drink, too. She had never witnessed anything so chaotic and heartbreaking in her life, except in her own.
6
“AND YOU’D ENJOY EVERY MINUTE OF IT.”
There was something so peaceful about being in the comfort of her home while it rained. Orielle had checked the forecast earlier this morning, and it showed no signs of the downpour happening outside. She wasn’t complaining, though. As long as it stopped before she had to leave the house, it could rain all it wanted to.
She sat with her legs stretched out in a cream recliner chair in the corner of her home office. The blinds were drawn upward, and a candle from Simply Scents flickered on her coffee table. The refreshing scent of lemons wafted through the air as her most recently updated R&B playlist played in the background. The screen of her MacBook gave just enough light so she didn’t have to turn on a lamp. If she didn’t have to, the main ceiling light would never get put to use.
With a click of her mouse, Orielle pulled up her yoga calendar and schedule, expanding it to full view. Noticing the numerous color blocks in different shades, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and thank God. Almost every weekday and a few weekendswere filled with back-to-back yoga sessions. She wasn’t sure who had been referring her services, but she was grateful.
Being booked and busy was a blessing she didn’t take for granted. The activity she found peace in while dealing with her toxic home environment had become a career. Same with her music. That was her God-given talent, and Orielle loved how her two worlds collided to bring others joy. Together, her fans and clients were healing through movement and music. Both were the best kind of therapy, in her opinion.
Squinting, she scrolled through her schedule. There werewaymore sessions than she remembered taking on. Some names she didn’t even recognize. A few were labeled as referrals, who paid in advance,while others were returning clients.
“I don’t remember locking in half of these,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her lap desk as she reviewed each entry more carefully. Whoever had been dropping her name had a damn good influence. She hadn’t even been promoting lately, and her last yoga post about private bookings and group sessions was over a week ago. Still, she wasn’t complaining. In this season of her life, she needed the consistency. It was further confirmation that she was still in alignment with herself despite everything she’d been through.
Maybe it was divine timing.
She clicked into one of the bookings to see if there were any client notes. Orielle smiled brightly when she read “Referred by Saleem.” Her eyes softened. That explained at least a few bookings. He always looked out in quiet ways like that. She’d mentioned to him while running errands a few weeks ago that she wanted to tap more into one-on-one healing sessions and teach more consistently. As a man who was big on health and wellness, she should’ve known he’d take that and run with it, plugging her name whenever he could.
Before she could grab her phone and send him a thank you text, it vibrated inside the cup holder. Checking the screen, Orielle released a deep sigh. She shouldn’t have been surprised that CJ, a guy she’d given her number to months ago while in Trader Joe’s, was calling, but she was. Not because he wasn’t a joy to talk to, but because she had ignored him more than they actually communicated.
She called herself trying to date, and he was the first man she’d given her number to after her breakup with Bobby. CJ wasn’t a bad guy and had always been kind, but he just wasn’t the guy for her.
“What does he want?” Orielle asked herself before swiping the screen with her thumb to answer. “Hello.”
“Ah. So she does answer,” CJ said, full of humor, getting straight to it.
Orielle smirked. “She does when she can.”
“When you can or when you want to?”
Her eyes rolled. “Both.”
“Understood. I’ll take that. What you got going on for the day?”
“Work and a few meetings, but nothing much afterwards. You?”
“Probably just chill at the crib if this rain doesn’t slow down.”
Orielle let out a low hum. “It’s supposed to stop shortly.”
