Page 113 of The Wright Man

Bella joined in, clapping like a proud mama at graduation. "That was surgical."

Tina started roasting his appearance. "Why he look like he ironed his shirt with a frying pan?"

Bella doubled over laughing. "He came down them steps like a background zombie on The Walking Dead. Eyes open, soul gone."

Tina pulled me into a side hug, nearly knocking my hash brown out of my hand. "I'm so damn proud of you. This is the Angie I remember. The one who used to fight dudes twice her size for talking shit about her baby cousin's hair."

Bella nodded, still chewing. "This you is loud. And messy. And violent. I missed her."

I looked down at my phone. A new text from Maleek waited beneath the photo we'd just sent.

Maleek :

That was it. No punchline. No emoji train. No flirting.

Just black-heart-solid. Him. His steady, loyal kind of love. Always there. Always enough.

I bit my lip.

"I missed me too," I whispered.

And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.

Chapter Eighteen

Maleek

I walked into GhostFit on Tuesday morning with a stupid smile on my face and zero shame about it.

The screen dimmed in my hand, Angelica's last message still glowing in the back of my mind—some meme she sent of a cat wearing a bonnet and rollers, labeled "Me on Sunday after four glasses of sangria." Dumb as hell. But I'd laughed. Out loud. In public.

I don't even like cats.

"Look at this nigga gigglin'." Riq's voice shot out the moment I crossed the threshold.

I looked up just in time to see him emerge from the back office, foam roller in one hand, that shit-eating grin on his face already.

"I know that look," Sticks added from the squat rack where he was adjusting plates. "That's that 'she sent me titties in a text message' smile."

"Fuck you both." I muttered, tucking my phone in my pocket with a smirk I couldn't completely suppress.

"Tell my sister-in-law I said hi," Sticks called out, unbothered.

"Tell her yourself when she comes in," I shot back.

"She really that fine in real life?"

I glared. "Watch it."

He laughed. "That's a yes."

I flipped both of them off and kept walking.

It had been a few weeks since we started falling back into rhythm—me and Angelica. After years of distance, we were back to sharing the little things. Memes. Inside jokes. Deep convos that drifted into silence but never felt awkward. It felt good. Familiar. Like something ancient and sacred was finally back where it belonged.

The gym was quiet this morning, just the three of us, which was rare these days. With the open house coming up, we'd been working overtime—assembling equipment, painting the final accent wall, locking in supply vendors, approving the last batch of merch that had just come in last week. The whole front desk area was stacked with unopened boxes labeled GHOSTFIT in bold block letters, ready to be unpacked and displayed.

The drink coolers were fully stocked—sports drinks, water, a few high-end protein shakes for the bougie types. We weren't offering fancy smoothies or cold-pressed juices yet, but we'd built something. From nothing.