Page 86 of When a Soul Cries

The slickness disappeared.

He backed off.

Didn’t keep pushing.

Didn’t ask for my number while I was clearly stressed.

Just let me go.

I respected that.

Still wasn’t giving his ass too much credit.

The bar for men was already in hell.

“What you smiling at?”

I immediately looked up.

Sol was watching me.

“I ain’t smiling.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You definitely are.”

I put my phone facedown.

“Mind your eviction.”

Her mouth fell open.

“Oh, that’s fucked up!”

I screamed laughing before I could stop myself.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

She grabbed one of the couch pillows and hit me with it.

I caught it against my chest, still laughing.

“You play too damn much,” she said, but she was laughing now too.

“I said I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not.”

I wasn’t.

But hearing her laugh after the way she’d cried earlier felt like somebody had opened a window in that tiny apartment and finally let some air inside.

Eventually, our laughter died down.

The quiet returned.