“Ex-husband!” he barked, jaw flexing hard. “And hell nah! That was my nigga too. You not finna put that shit on me!”
I shook my head, more tears falling. “Fake ass emotion at the funeral. You slid into my life so fast. Took over his spot… took me. And I let you ‘cause I was grievin’ and lonely and tryna survive. And now? I can’t sleep. I can’t breathe. I feel him around me every day, and I know he’s tryna tell me somethin’.”
Rome’s face turned dark. “You sound weird and ungrateful as fuck.”
“Enough with this ungrateful shit!” I screamed. “Ungrateful? For what, bein’ loved by a liar? A narcissist? A nigga who makes me question him all the time?! I ain’t stupid, Rome! I know you fuckin’ around. You been feedin’ me bullshit and watchin’ me drown in it.” I turned and snatched my suitcase from the closet, tossing it on the bed and yanking open drawers.
“The fuck is you doin’?” he demanded.
“Leavin’. I can’t do this shit with you no more.”
He stormed over and snatched a handful of clothes from the suitcase, flinging them across the room. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Skylah.”
“I am!” I screamed, voice breaking. “I’m done livin’ like this. I’m done pretendin’ like everything’s okay when I feel like I’m bein’ haunted by truth, death, and guilt every fuckin’ second!”
Rome grabbed my wrist. “You really finna walk out on me over some ghost shit?!”
I yanked away. “I’m walkin’ out ‘cause the nigga I thought I could trust keeps showin’ me I can’t.” I grabbed my keys, my phone, and my purse. My suitcase wasn’t even zipped, but I didn’t care.
Rome followed me all the way downstairs to the front door, voice booming. “SKYLAH! Don’t walk out that fuckin’ door!” I didn’t stop. “Sky, I swear to God if you leave…”
The door slammed behind me. I ran down the steps and into my car, tears streaming, my heart thudding so hard it hurt. My hands shook as I shoved the key in the ignition. The moment the engine roared, I let out a sob.
“I know I’m not goin’ crazy,” I whispered to myself, gripping the wheel. “I know it. I fuckin’ know it.”
I backed out of the driveway, Rome’s voice still yelling in the background, fading into the night. As I sped through the dark streets, headlights slicing through the black, the car suddenly felt… colder.
“Buckle up, baby.”
I screamed, and the car swerved as King appeared in the passenger seat.
“Eyes on the road,” he said, low and calm. “We got some shit to talk about.”
The ride tothe hotel was quiet except for my thoughts racing and King’s ghost sitting next to me like this shit was normal. This time, he wasn’t see-through. He had one arm draped over the seat and his eyes on me like he used to when he was trying to read my whole soul.
“You still drive like a mad woman,” he said with a light chuckle.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Maybe I am.”
He smirked. “Ain’t no maybe about it.” The way he talked was all smooth and calm like death hadn’t even slowed his confidence. It had my chest tight. I pulled into the hotel lot, threw the car in park, and just sat there. My hands were still shaking. “You gon’ sit here all night?” he asked.
“I don’t even know what the hell I’m doin’,” I muttered. “This is… insane, Kamari.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, leaning closer. “But you need to trust me. Trust your heart. Your mind.” I swallowed hard and nodded once before getting out.
The hotel was mid-level fancy, one of those places Rome used for quick flips and business meets, which made me feel even sicker being there. I checked in fast, kept my head down, and went straight up to the room. As soon as I closed the door, I let out a breath that felt like it’d been stuck in me for months.
King sat on the bed, and I kicked off my Uggs, tossing my purse down at the same time. I collapsed into the chair by the window and dropped my head into my hands, sniffing.
“I can’t do this shit, King,” I whispered. “I can’t keep seein’ you and knowin’ I can’t touch you for real.”
He leaned back on his hands, looking at me with that half-grin that used to make me weak. “You can touch a nigga all you want.”
“Don’t start,” I said, voice cracking. “This ain’t the time for your jokes.”
He studied me for a minute, then nodded slowly. “Aight. So you want the truth, or you want comfort?”
I lifted my head. “What?”
