Page 165 of The Sweetest Return

“I know that too.”

“But knowing and feeling ain't always the same thing.”

“No.”

I stood and went toward the windows because sitting had become impossible.

“I woke up and you were gone, Mani. You weren't answering. The internet was already running its mouth, and I didn't know whether you regretted me, needed space, or decided this was too much trouble.”

“I didn't regret you.”

“I heard you.”

“I needed space.”

“I can respect space.”

“I handled it badly.”

“No argument.”

A tiny embarrassed laugh came through the phone.

I let myself smile.

Then I asked what had been sitting beneath every other question.

“Can you handle it, Imani?”

Silence.

“Handle what?”

“The attention. Pictures. Blogs. People thinking because they watched me play football they own pieces of my life. Women attached to my name because somebody caught an angle or made a story.” I kept my voice low. “Can you handle that?”

I hated asking.

I needed the answer anyway.

Wanting Imani couldn't turn me into a regular man. I could protect her privacy where I had control. Correct lies. Tell the truth. Make sure she never stood beside me wondering whether I had chosen her.

I could not erase every phone.

And I couldn't build something real with a woman who disappeared whenever the public part of my life touched hers.

“I’m not asking because I think you're weak.”

“I know.”

“I need to know if you want to learn how to do this with me. Not around me. Not after you get scared, disappear, calm down, and come back once it gets quiet.”

Her answer took a moment.

“I can handle it.”

I closed my eyes.

“I may not handle it perfectly every time,” she continued. “Clearly. But I can learn how to do it with you instead of running from what scares me.”