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Allegra and I have been friends since we met our sixth-grade year of middle school. At thirty-one years old, there’s no other woman I’ve ever chosen and felt this close to. We met Nova and Jeremiah our ninth-grade year of high school. Both were a year older than us. Nova was from Domingo Ave, and we played his school first when football season started. He was at the game with Jeremiah, and we all linked up and watched the game together. That turned into us hanging out on weekends, then daily after school, and the rest as they say is history.
It hadn’t been my intention to fall in love with either of my best male friends, but time changed my relationship with Nova. In college, we started looking at each other differently. We flirted here and there and even hooked up during our spring break my junior year, but we promised not to do anything that would ruin our friendship. After I turned twenty-five, we stopped fighting it and agreed to date. We dated for a year before committing, and then we stayed in a committed relationship for three years before he proposed.
Had I known he was spending our entire engagement cheating on me with Tiffany, I would have gone to the ends of the earth in search of a time machine to go back to that football game and never make the mistake of dating him again.
Jeremiah agreed and we ate silently. When we were done, we brushed our teeth, and I washed my face since I’d already showered.
“Are you staying the night?” I checked. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even if I did, I’d still want him here, alone, with me.
“Do you want me to?”
With a nod, I headed out of the room to get my phone charger. When I returned, it was to Jeremiah taking off his shirt and shorts. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him in just his boxers because we slept together in the past, but with so much time passing, I couldn’t help but stare at him. Jeremiah was tall, wide, and muscular. He had a football player’s build. The tattoos that littered his chest, arms, and back were so damn sexy against his nutmeg-brown skin.
There was no denying just how beautiful Jeremiah was. He had naturally arched brows that hovered over dark, almond-shaped eyes. The mustache-goatee combo he rocked enclosed thick, juicy, blunt brown lips. He had the cutest pointy ears that I loved rubbing as he went to sleep.
And I loved his style. He could switch from urban wear to a custom-made suit effortlessly, and almost always, he had on a cowboy hat and boots or a snapback and Jordans. While I was born in Memphis and moved to Rose Valley Hills, Jeremiah was born in Mississippi, then came here. He often spent his free time in the country part of Rose Valley Hills, swimming in the lazy river, drinking moonshine, riding dirt bikes, and line dancing until he passed out.
The several chains that adorned his neck remained as he placed his phone and wallet on the nightstand. Before I could cut the light out, he told me, “Com’ere, Angel.”
My steps were small and slow as I walked over to him, because I had no idea what he was about to say or do to me. I made my way in front of him, heart thudding against my chest. To me, even with his flaws, Jeremiah Simpson was everything good in this world—inmyworld.
He took my hand inside of his and squeezed it three times. That was his way of telling me he loved me. Jeremiah never spoke those words to anyone. I remember the day he struggled to tell me. Because I knew about his past and how hard that declaration was, I told him to just squeeze my hand three times and I would say it back.
Feeling those three squeezes after a year made me realize I didn’t need a year of space; I only needed him. I looked away, but Jeremiah used my chin to turn my head back in his direction. “Don’t ever leave me again, a’ight?”
Our eyes remained locked as I nodded my agreement. “I won’t, Jerry, and I love you too,” I almost whispered, swallowing back my emotion.
His hand went to the back of my head, and he pulled me into his chest for a hug. I held him tightly, releasing a breath of relief, so grateful he didn’t let me spend the night alone.
6
Ifelt the kiss Jeremiah placed to my forehead, temple, and cheek before he left. It took all of my self-control to not smile… especially when he whispered, “Sleep well, my angel,” before he left. After I heard the door close, I checked the time, and it was just after seven in the morning when he made his exit to get ready for work. I planned to go in, but not until nine. Word had already begun to spread that I was back, and a lot of my clients had started to reach out by phone and email. It was a bit overwhelming, but thanks to my receptionist and associates, I was confident my transition back into work would be a breeze.
I slept for another fifteen minutes or so before getting up to start my day. After handling my hygiene, I started on breakfast, opting to work out this evening instead. My eyes landed on the Bible in the corner of my coffee area. Every morning, I used to have a cup of coffee or a matcha latte and read at least a chapter of my Bible. Since my return, I had yet to open that Bible. I wasn’t mad at or blaming God for what Nova had done, but I did feel… let down.
If God didn’t spare His own son from the pain of the cross, who was I to think I’d be spared of pain here on earth? Still, being hurt in such an intentional way was jarring. I looked to God for protection from all things, and not having that protection for my heart made me feel exposed and vulnerable.
True enough, I chose to be with Nova, but still. I prayed to be spared from cheating and abuse. Even if I chose wrong, choosing a man that cheated felt like a horrible punishment.
I kept telling myself maybe Nova telling me about the cheating was my protection. Maybe that was God showing me who Nova, the husband and not my best friend, truly was before I married him. Who knows how many times he’d cheated and if he planned to continue when we were married? I’d been working on my perspective and trying to find my way back to God, but I didn’t think that would happen while I was on this path of revenge.
My doorbell rang, forcing me to stop staring at the neglected Bible. This time, I had no idea who was outside of my door. When I looked out of the peephole and saw Nova, my heart skipped a beat. The audacity of this man to show up here. Resting my forehead on the door, I shook my head and chuckled. I didn’t want to let him in, but I was curious about what he had to say.
I opened the door, taking in the black V-neck t-shirt he had on with matching jeans.
“What?” I grumbled.
“Can we talk?”
“If this is about business, it can wait until I get to work.”
“Chapel, please.” His tone was low as he took a step inside of my home. “We haven’t really talked since that night.”
“Quite frankly, I’m not sure what else you think needs to be said.”
He closed the door while I held on to it. Once it was closed, he stepped directly in front of me. Every time he got close, I warred with smacking the shit out of him and hugging him. To keep from doing either, I pulled my hands behind my back.
“A lot needs to be said. Can we talk… Please?”
