The rain fellin a steady rhythm, the sound soft and soothing as I sat on the back porch of my parents’ house. My mother sat beside me, her presence a quiet comfort as we swung gently on the porch swing, the creak of the wood matching the rhythm of the rain.
She hadn’t asked why I’d shown up unannounced, hadn’t pressed me for details. She just handed me a cup of sweet tea and sat with me, waiting.
Finally, she broke the silence. “You going to tell me what’s got you looking like the weight of the world’s on your shoulders?”
I stared down at my tea, the words catching in my throat. But then they spilled out, jagged and raw. “I fell in love, Mama. With someone who lied to me. He wasn’t who he said he was. And I let myself believe in him anyway.”
She nodded, her gaze steady. “And did Lennox love you?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “He said he did. But how can I believe that when he lied about everything else?”
She reached over, covering my hand with hers. “Love isn’t always neat, baby. Sometimes it’s messy. People make mistakes, especially when they’re scared. But you have to ask yourself—did his actions come from a place of love or a place of selfishness?”
I closed my eyes, her words stirring something in me. I thought of the way Lennox had looked at me, the quiet vulnerability in his eyes when he’d let his walls down. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t ignore the truth I’d seen in those moments.
“I don’t know if I can forgive him,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
My mother squeezed my hand gently. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting, Naima. It means letting go of the pain so you can see clearly. Only you can decide if there’s something worth saving.”
Her words settled over me like the rain, soft but persistent, soaking into the cracks of my broken heart. And as I sat there, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t ready to give up on love entirely.
19
LENNOX
Being back at home felt like slipping into a pair of shoes that no longer fit. The noise, the rush of life—it was all so familiar, yet hollow. I avoided work and my father, and instead, I threw myself into the gym.
I was trying to outrun the ache that had settled deep in my chest. But no matter how many miles I ran, no matter how heavy the weight, it didn’t budge. It stayed there, lodged in the spaces Naima had filled. Spaces I hadn't even realized were empty until she showed me what fullness felt like.
Every time my phone buzzed with my father’s name, I let it ring. His calls were reminders of the wreckage I’d left behind—the lies, the betrayal, how my choices had come back to haunt me. I didn’t need his lectures or his disappointed tone. I didn’t want to hear him tell me how I’d failed—not him, not myself, and especially not Naima.
But it wasn't just failure that gnawed at me. It was the truth—the brutal, undeniable truth that I had been selfish. That every moment I spent at The Three Bears, pretending to be someone else, I was indulging in a fantasy. I had wanted the sanctuary they’d built, the safety of their world, but I hadn’t earned it. I’dhidden behind my lies, letting them cradle me in the warmth of their acceptance while knowing it could all shatter with a single truth.
And Naima—God, Naima. She had given me pieces of herself that I knew she didn't share easily. Late-night talks about her fears, her hopes, the quiet moments when she'd rest her head against my chest and breathe like I was her safe place. I’d been her safe place, and I’d ruined it. I had let her believe I was something solid, something real, when in truth, I was the very thing that threatened her world.
I thought about the way she would make tea late at night, the way her fingers would curl around the warm mug as if gathering strength. She’d told me things she hadn’t even shared with Tasha and Selena. Like how she sometimes wondered if she was enough, if the retreat would ever become all she dreamed of. I had held her, whispered that she was more than enough, that everything she touched turned to gold. And all the while, I was the wolf hiding among her sheep.
I was stepping out of the gym, my muscles sore and my thoughts a mess, when a car pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, and I saw Selena, her face calm but with that no-nonsense look she always had when she was about to get to the heart of something.
“Lennox,” she said, stepping out of the car and crossing her arms. “Got a minute?”
I stopped, caught off guard. “Depends. Tasha isn’t hiding in the backseat ready to jump my ass, is she?” Tasha was almost as angry as Naima had been. The hostility and judgment in her eyes followed me out of the retreat as I’d gathered my bags and left right after my father had.
She smirked, shaking her head. “Nope, it’s just me. But nice to know you’re still worried about her.”
I laughed softly despite myself. “Fair point. What brings you to Pittsburgh?”
She gestured to a coffee shop down the street. “Figured we could talk. You up for it?”
For a second, I thought about making an excuse, driving away. But I knew why she was here, and the weight of it wouldn’t go away no matter how far I ran. So, I nodded, following her to the shop.
We settled into a small table near the window, the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods filling the space. The small talk felt awkward—her asking about Pittsburgh, me mumbling something vague about getting back into my routine. But Selena wasn’t one for small talk, and soon enough, her gaze turned focused.
“Why didn’t you just tell the truth?” she asked, her voice pointed. “Why lie about why you were at the retreat?”
I exhaled, leaning back in my chair. “I didn’t want to be there for that reason,” I said, my voice low. “I didn’t want to assess anything. My father wanted numbers, a plan, a report. I wanted...I don’t know. I wanted to see what made the place tick. To see the heart of it.”
“And Naima was part of that heart,” she said, her tone softer now.
