‘Cause if I lost her now, I wanted it to be after I gave her my best shot at a healthy love.
Not after I’d scared her into runnin’ from the only man who ever really meant it.
Istared at my phone way longer than that text deserved.
Roman: Aight. When and where you want to meet?
Roman: Bet. Just tell me when you ready. I’ll be there.
No pull-up.
No, “I’m outside.”
No pressure.
And somehow that made my stomach flip worse.
Because for the first time since we started this little dance, he wasn’t tryna steer it.
He put it on me. Where. When. If.
I couldn’t even lie to myself and say I didn’t know what I wanted this talk to be about.
We was past the “what are we” stage.
We’d already done all the shit people usually doafterthey answer that.
Sleepin’ together.
Meetin’ family.
Him damn near fightin’ niggas behind me.
The only thing we hadn’t done was call it what it was.
And I was tired.
Tired of actin’ like we wasn’t knee-deep.
He sent another text a little while after.
Roman: If you don’t wanna pick a spot, you can come to my Nana’s. Backyard. She been askin’ about you anyway.
I bit my lip.
I’d met Nana in passin’, at dinners and little family things, but never like that. Never as the woman who had her grandson pacing the floor.
Me: Your Nana really wanna meet me?
Roman: She said, and I quote, “Bring that girl over here so I can see what got you actin’ crazy.”
Roman: So yeah. She know of you.
I laughed out loud.
Of course she did.
Meetin’ at her place lowkey made sense.
