Page 193 of When Love Takes Root

“The girls like you. JJ respects you.” She swallowed. “And Kayden likes you too.”

The corner of my mouth moved, but my chest tightened at the same time. “That surprised him?”

“It made him angry. He feels guilty, like liking you means he’s betraying Jamal.”

Jamal’s name entered my kitchen, and I let it have reverence. I didn’t rush past it. I didn’t compete with it. I stood there and respected the man whose love had shaped the woman in front of me.

Celeste wiped beneath one eye. “He apologized to me. He knows he owes you an apology too. He said he’ll make it right.”

“He’s a grieving boy trying to carry armor too heavy for his age.”

“I know that now.”

“You knew it before, baby. Grief just had you too close to the wound to see what it was bleeding on.”

Her face folded.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

No excuses followed. No performance. No pretty speech wrapped around accountability. Just two words trembling in my kitchen like they’d cost her something to bring.

I needed them more than I wanted to admit.

“I hurt you,” she said. “I let fear speak for me, and instead of admitting grief was already in the room, I treated your presence like the threat. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She flinched, but she stayed.

Good.

I didn’t want her punished. I wanted her present.

I pushed away from the counter. “I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad you brought food, but smothered chicken ain’t a key to get back in without a conversation.”

Her lips parted.

I kept my voice low, but I didn’t soften the truth. “You hurt me, Red. And I know that wasn’t your intention, but impact still matters. You don’t get to invite me into your heart, let me care about your babies, let me stand close enough to pray over what hurts, then hand me my walking papers every time fear gets loud.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she didn’t interrupt.

“If we’re going to do this, truth can’t be the first thing we sacrifice so everybody can stay comfortable. I’m not a placeholder. I’m not a distraction. I’m not a threat to Jamal’s memory, and I’m damn sure not a man you can pick up when you feel brave and put down when grief starts talking crazy.”

Her breath caught.

I stepped closer, stopping with enough space between us for the words to do their work. “I care about you deeply. I care about your children. I respect Jamal, and I respect what your family lost. But I won’t let love turn me into somebody who stands outside your door, waiting to see whether fear has voted me out again.” A tear slid down her cheek. “You hear me, baby?”

“I hear you.”

“No, Red. Hear me with the part of you that wants to live, not the part that’s only sorry because you see I’m hurt.”

Her hand pressed to her chest.

“If you need space, you say what that means. If you’re scared, you say you’re scared. If your children need time, we make room for that. We pray, we talk, we pause, we seek counsel, and we move with wisdom.”

She nodded, tears falling freely now. “You’re right.”

“I know.” Her mouth trembled, and despite everything, a small laugh broke through her tears. I lifted a brow. “What?”