Page 66 of Honey's Special Roux

“I know.”

I placed the flowers on the table near the porch swing. Then I rubbed my hands together and waited to hear what he had to say. Marquise was fine as hell. He’d gotten more muscles but kept his signature low-cut fade and trimmed beard. He would always be attractive to me, but I couldn’t risk the danger involved in being with him.

“Look, I’m sorry for how shit ended with us. It fucks me up to this day thinking about the love I lost when I got locked up. You’d warned me so many times over the years about this shit, yet I still expected you to hold me down.”

I chuckled. “Nah. I loved you, for real. I just wasn’t about to put my life on hold to stick beside you for fifteen years.”

He licked his lips. “It was only six now. I got out on good behavior.”

“Same difference.”

“I guess.” He set the bag in his hand on the steps and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

He was so damn fine. I couldn’t help but admire how well he’d aged. Time had treated him well, even if life had been rough.

“Look… I’m proud of the chef you’ve become. You’re out here doing good shit in the culinary world, and I’m happy Miss Janie got to witness it.”

I gulped as the lump formed in the base of my throat. “Mm-hmm.”

“How are you holding up?”

I shook my head. “You’re not my person anymore, Marquise.”

“I know, but I’d still like to check up on you. Grief can be rough.”

“Don’t act like you care. I can tell from the way you’re moving you didn’t come here to talk about my grief. Please be honest with me. Cut the shit and be real.”

He chuckled. “You know, after we bumped into each other, I did a deep dive into your life. I saw your business page, and that shit had me going down memory lane. You have always been a talented cook, and it’s cool as hell to see how far that shit has taken you.”

I smiled. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“You’re welcome. I missed you. Hell, I miss you. I thought about you the entire time. Part of me hoped and prayed you’d pop up one day. It was a dream, but I wanted to believe it was possible. I wrote to you a couple times, but you never responded.”

Guilt washed over me. Marquise had no one. He’d left the gang to make a better life for us, and even I turned my back on him when he went down. He deserved better than what I gave him, but I couldn’t stay around and wait for him to get out. It was stupid to pause my life because he wasn’t around.

I couldn’t admit to him I read every letter. I’d get them from the post office every time I came back home and would sit in the room and cry. A few years ago, he’d sent a final letter to me. I cried for hours because I didn’t have the strength to face him and tell him the truth.

Tell him now.

My subconscious was a bitch for putting the thought in my head. It made sense. The window to tell him was wide open, yet I still hesitated.

“Look, I came here to talk to you and to ask you a serious question.”

“What?”

“I watched your interview with… Damn, what was her name? Um, LeAnn. Right. I saw the interview with LeAnn, and it was something you said that caught me off guard.”

Fuck… I should have known he’d do his deep dive into my life and hear my interviews. I loved my son and made him a part of everything I did. The truth would set me free, right?

“What was it?” I asked, though I knew.

“Who is Quis?”

“My son, but you knew that already.”

“I did. Who is his father?”

I looked away and shrunk into myself. I felt like a single grain of sand on the beach as my throat burned. The time to release the burden I’d held on my shoulders for six years had come.

---