My jaw tightened, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I shook my head, pacing once, then twice, as if I could walk this feeling off.
I wasn’t even in love with him. That’s what I told myself. But my chest wasn’t getting the memo. Because the thought of something happening to Kyrie? That shit twisted something deep inside me, something I didn’t even wanna name.
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly, but it still came out uneven.
“Damn…” I muttered under my breath, voice low, almost cracking before I caught it.
We weren’t even like that. Not for real. But being around him? The way he carried himself, the way he looked at me like I already belonged to him, and the way he kept pushing past every wall I tried to throw up.
Yeah, I felt that. More than I wanted to. No matter how hard I tried to fight him and this, I wanted him.
And that realization hit me harder than anything else.
I looked down at the rock on my finger, twisting the band round and round until the metal bit into my skin. This whole “wife” thing was still hitting me in waves, but looking at the hospital tiles, I knew the shit was officially real.
I was stuck in that waiting room limbo, staring at the double doors and praying for a doctor to appear. My phone vibrated against my palm, the screen lighting up with Drayla’s name. I swiped the bar and pressed it to my ear before the first ring even finished.
“Sianni, girl, I just saw the news,” Drayla’s voice came through, thick with panic. “Are you okay? Is Kyrie okay?”
“I’m holding it together. Just waiting for them to come out and tell me something.” I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes.
“Okay, well, I’m on my way up there. I’m bringing you some clean clothes.”
“Aight.”
I hung up, staring at my lap. I appreciated her coming through, but my mind was spinning like fucking crazy. Ten minutes later, the double doors swung open, and Drayla marched in with a bag of clothes in one hand and two steaming coffees in the other.
“Here you go, boo,” she said, offering a small, sympathetic smile as she slid a cup my way.
“Thank you.” I took a sip, the heat hitting the back of my throat, but I couldn’t sit still. I stood, gesturing to the bag. “Let me go change. I’ll be right back.”
I retreated to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. I looked a mess. Kyrie’s blood was dried dark on my clothes. There was so much of it that you’d think he’d been hit in the chest instead of his arm. I stripped out of the stained fabric, feeling a weight lift as I pulled on the fresh clothes.
When I walked back out, Drayla was already waiting.
“Feeling better?” She handed my coffee back to me.
“Yeah, a little.” I sank into the plastic chair beside her.
She nodded, her eyes searching mine. “So… did you see who did it?”
“Nawl. By the time I got there, it was just Kyrie.”
The lie felt heavy on my tongue. A part of me wanted to spill everything to her, but I knew Kyrie. If my husband wanted the streets to stay out of the business, I had to play my part. I wasn’t about to go against his word.
“Hmm. That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, real crazy. I just hope whoever did it catches what’s coming to them.”
I started to say more, but two shadows fell over us. I looked up to see two tall, Black men in slacks looking way too official for a hospital waiting room.
“Mrs. Maddox?” The one with the dreads asked. He had a professional-ass smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That’s me. And you are?” I kept my voice steady, though my heart started a slow drum against my ribs.
“Detective White,” the other one said, the one with the clean fade. He was nice-looking, but he had that “cop” energy you could feel from a mile away. He held out his hand.
I reached out and gave him a firm shake.
