Page 195 of The Wright Man

"Not you hating on the baby hairs. Wow."

She shrugged, not even a little sorry.

"Also... I definitely stole that hoodie from you in eighth grade. The black one with the faded Nike logo? Yeah, that one."

I stared at her, mouth open. "You told me you found that at Goodwill!"

"I lied." She giggled. "I used to wear it whenever I was sad."

I shook my head, still laughing. "You were a menace."

She smiled, softer this time, then looked down at her food, her tone dipping a little. "I used to think I wasn't... enough. You know? Back then."

I stilled. "Enough for what?"

She hesitated, then shrugged. "You. Not pretty enough. Desirable enough. You had girls throwing themselves at you, Maleek. Meanwhile, I was Bucky Badteeth. I didn't think you'd ever want me. Not like that."

My chest tightened. I put my food down.

Angelica didn't look at me. She just kept poking at her noodles. "When Ms. Dana died... when Kareem got locked up... everything got so heavy. Gavin was like this... escape hatch. Like if someone like him—someone who used to tease me—wanted me now, I must've overcome all that. It was stupid. But it felt like proof, you know?"

"I get it," I said quietly. And I did. More than she knew.

She looked at me then, her eyes glossy. "I almost told you I loved you the day you told me you enlisted. I wanted to. But I was scared. Scared you'd leave anyway. Scared you didn't feel the same. Scared I'd ruin us."

I reached for her hand, lacing our fingers. "Angel... I didn't think I deserved you. Not with all the shit I was carrying. Not with my anger. My trauma. I was scared I'd hurt you without even meaning to."

She squeezed my hand. "But you never did."

"Maybe not then. But I've thought about it every day since. What we could've had. What we lost. But baby..." I cupped her cheek. "All of that led us here. And here? Is where I wanna be. With you."

She smiled at me, sleepy and soft. "One last secret," she mumbled, eyes starting to flutter.

"What's that, Angel?"

She snickered. "Your dick is bigger than Gavin's."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Mmhmm. Way bigger. Like... wayyyy bigger." She demonstrated with her hands, nearly dropped her spring roll, then rested her head on my shoulder like it was her final act.

I chuckled, brushing the hair from her face. "You really saving the best for last, huh?"

She was already dozing, lips parted, snoring soft and sweet against me.

I scooped her up gently and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down and tucking the blanket around her. She looked peaceful. Light. Like she was finally breathing easy.

I stood there for a minute, just watching her. Then I turned to head for the shower, already grinning at the thought of what she might confess next time she got drunk.

Because I was ready to hear it all.

* * *

I cleaned with the lights off.

Didn't need them. I could navigate this house in my sleep, every creaky floorboard and sharp corner memorized. Besides, she was sleeping—I hoped—and I didn't want to wake her. So I moved quietly, folding the blanket she'd burrowed under while eating spring rolls and spilling secrets.

I moved through the living room, picking up empty containers, napkins, and the trail of penis confetti that had somehow made its way under the couch cushions and halfway up the damn wall.