Page 13 of When a Soul Cries

Yasmine gathered her purse and headed toward the door.

“I might change your mind one day, Rome.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

I watched her heels disappear through the front door before checking the time.

My phone rang.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

I already knew who it was.

“What, Ulani?”

“Can we talk? I miss you.”

“No. You miss my dick or my money, and I have neither for you.”

“You don’t mean that, Rome.”

“I do. I don’t entertain hoes with loose pussy that belongs to the streets. Delete my number.”

I ended the call and blocked hers.

Again.

There was a time when Ulani Sinclair had been the only woman capable of getting past every wall I built.

She stood five-foot-five with a slim figure, large breasts, and the kind of face that could make a man ignore every warning placed in front of him. Her green, almond-shaped eyes were her most dangerous feature. She knew how to soften them whenever she wanted something and fill them with tears whenever she realized she was losing control.

Long, honey-blonde hair fell bone-straight down her back, and she never stepped outside unless every strand was perfectly in place.

Ulani was beautiful.

She was also out of her damn mind.

I had loved her once. Enough to trust her. Enough to believe the life we were building meant as much to her as it did to me.

Then I caught her cheating.

Whatever love I had for her died the moment I discovered another man had been touching what I thought belonged to me. There was no conversation that could fix it, no apology believable enough to erase it, and no second chance waiting for her once I walked away.

Cheating wasn’t a mistake to me.

It was a decision.

Ulani had made hers, and I made mine.

Since ending things, I had done everything possible to stay clear of her. I blocked numbers, changed security codes, stopped visiting places I knew she frequented, and made sure everyone around me understood that Ulani no longer had access to my life.

None of it mattered.

In Ulani’s delusional mind, we weren’t finished. We were simply going through a rough patch, and sooner or later, I would come to my senses and take her back.

According to her, I was still her man.

According to me, she was a mistake I refused to make twice.