“I should get going,” I said, taking a step back. “Let you get settled.”
Truth looked surprised. “You sure? You just got here.”
“Yeah, I got some things to handle.” I pulled out my phone like I’d just gotten a text. “But I’ll hit you up later. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”
“Okay.” She smiled, and it made leaving harder than it should have been. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Anytime.”
I nodded at Delphine and her friends, kept my movements casual, unhurried. Didn’t run. Didn’t rush. Just walked back down the street like a man with nothing to hide.
But the second I turned the corner and was out of sight, I exhaled hard.
That was close.
Too close.
Delphine had seen it. Had clocked the resemblance between me and Amai. And if Truth started asking questions—if she started putting pieces together—this whole thing could blow up before I even had a chance to figure out what I was doing.
I pulled out my phone and stared at Truth’s number in my contacts.
I’d gotten out just in time.
But I knew I couldn’t stay away.
Not now.
Not after today.
I had just as much of a right to get to know the mother of my child as Amai did. The only difference was, I think I wanted Truth to be a part of my life. It was still too early to tell, though.
I pulled up to Truth’s mama’s house at exactly seven o’clock, the way I’d promised. The sun was setting over the Seventh Ward, painting everything in shades of amber and gold. Kids were stillplaying in the street, their laughter carrying on the evening air. A few neighbors sat on porches, watching the world move around them with the kind of patience that came from living in a place where time moved differently.
I’d chosen Compère Lapin for dinner—upscale but not pretentious, the kind of place where the food was exceptional and the atmosphere was intimate without being suffocating. The kind of place where you could have a real conversation without shouting over music or dodging drunk tourists.
I texted Truth when I parked:I’m outside.
Her response came thirty seconds later:Give me five minutes.
I leaned back in my seat and waited, watching Delphine’s house through the windshield. The porch light was on. I could see movement through the screen door—shadows passing back and forth, the rhythm of a household getting ready for the evening.
Five minutes turned into seven.
Then the front door opened.
And Truth stepped out onto the porch.
I went completely still.
She was wearing a red dress that should have been illegal. Deep V neckline that plunged between her breasts, the fabric clinging to every curve like it had been painted on. A high split up her left thigh that showed smooth brown skin with every step she took. Her hair was pulled back from her face, showing off her neck and shoulders. She’d done something with her makeup—subtle but effective, making her eyes look bigger, and her lips fuller.
She looked like sin wrapped in silk.
Like temptation personified.
Like a woman who knew exactly what she was doing to every man who looked at her.
I got out of the car before I could stop myself, moving on instinct, needing to be closer. She walked down the porch steps carefully in heels that made her legs look impossibly long, a red YSL purse secured on her shoulder, and her hand lifting the hem of her dress slightly so she didn’t trip.
