“Zahara, real talk. I’m sorry I hurt you,” I spoke truthfully. “I mean that. I’ve changed. And if you let me... I’ll show you.”
“You always did know how to talk. But can you follow through? I am a very grown woman. You can’t just tell me anything, and I jump on board. Are you done with the lifestyle that got you locked up in the first place?”
“More or less, yeah.”
“See Rashad, I can’t-”
“To answer your question, I don’t have any active gigs planned. And no, I don’t plan on taking anything on. But if Jahsir need my help wi-”
She sighed, either in frustration or disappointment. “Your loyalty has always been to my brother.”
“And vice versa. Z, we’re not going to go out here and do no dumb shit, especially with him trying to stay under the radar. But with the shit we’ve done, can we truly say we are out of the ‘lifestyle’? That’s why I answered the question that way.”
“Crimson was devastated when y’all left. I was, too. I imagine I would have taken it harder if you and I were still together. I want to grow and eventually have a family, too. I can’t do that with you if I am always waiting for something to go wrong.”
“Let me show you something.” I opened my phone and pulled up a few pictures from my gallery.
“What’s this, and where is this?”
“It’s mine. I just closed on it a week ago. I’m opening my own tattoo shop in Calhoun Heights.”
“You’re leaving Mulholland Falls?”
“I am.”
Zahara rested her elbows on the table and folded her hands under her chin. She looked off into the distance and sat silently. Her eyes watered, but instead of explaining her emotions, she put on a smile and said,
“Good for you, Rashad. Good for you.” She smiled. “What are you going to do next?”
“Beg you to come with me.”
“I mean, today.” She cleared her throat. “What are you doing for the rest of the evening?"
“Meeting up with Jahsir, but that can change if you want it to.”
“Rashad. I need time to process all of this. I’m not ready to jump fully back in with you, but I am also not ready to lose you…again.”
“Take all the time you need.”
She didn’t say anything. Just sat there, holding the smile that was keeping her from falling apart. I didn’t push. I just nodded, gave her hand a squeeze, and let the silence close the evening.
By the timeI hit the parking lot, the breeze had picked up. I slid into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and just sat there for a second. My heart was still back at that table with Zahara.
She wasn’t ready, I could respect that, but she didn’t walk away, either. To me, that meant something. She was still listening and looking at me like maybe there was a version of us worth saving. That alone lit something in me I hadn’t felt ina minute. Hope. Real hope. I started the car and pulled off, the city rolling by in a blur of streetlights, my past life, and future memories.
Zahara and I had history, pain, and time working against us. But now, I had something I didn’t have before: clarity and purpose. I wasn’t just trying to survive anymore; I was working on building something. My tattoo shop in Calhoun Heights was mine and the blueprint to my clean slate. Not just because it was legit, but because it felt likeme. Someone I’d been trying to become for years.
I hoped she’d believe I was serious and that I wasn’t just talking. I was showing up differently now, and I was more than ready to put her first. My phone buzzed, killing my thoughts of Zahara the minute I answered it.
[Me]: Yo.
[Jahsir]: You close?
[Me]: Pulling up.
I turned onto Reaping Dr. and spotted him standing outside his ride in the parking lot. Jahsir stood with his arms crossed, always looking like he was halfway between ready for war and ready for peace. That was my brother. I parked, hopped out, and dapped him up.
“Bout time,” he said with a smirk.
