Page 64 of Love's Free Will

“Royal—”

“If I hadn’t been with Averi that night…” I started, voice cracking, “King would still be here. He wouldn’t have been alone. He wouldn’t have had to deal with that shit by himself.”

There was a brief silence, then a long exhale from her. “Stop it,” she said, firm. “Stop talkin’ like that.”

“Why, we both know that shit is true!”

“No it’s not Royal, stop saying it.”

I looked at her, tears I refused to shed swimmin’ in my eyes. “If I wasn’t laid up with her, maybe I’d?—”

“You’d be dead, Royal.” Her words punched me in the throat. “I only buried one son because of her,” she whispered, voice tightwith emotion. “Don’t you get that? You were the bigger target. The name. The face. The headline. You think they wasn’t gon’ come for you first?” I sat down hard in the kitchen chair. Head in my hands. Her words swirlin’ in my head. “She saved your life, just by bein’ there, And I thank God for her.” I stayed quiet, hands gripping the sides of my head. “She gave me one son back. Even if she didn’t know it.”

I couldn’t take it as the tears finally released from my eyes.

“Why the fuck would she wanna save me now?” I muttered. “I pushed her away. Treated her like she was nothin’. Told her I ain’t want her.”

Queenie came closer and smacked the back of my head. Not hard. Just enough. “You are stupid,” she said with a sigh, kneelin’ beside me. “You love that girl.” I shook my head. She placed her hand on my cheek, gently. “Royal... if you don’t think you love that girl, you’re an idiot. A mama always knows.”

“I don’t love her,” I whispered, but even I didn’t believe it.

“You bringing her to this house says otherwise,” she said, voice low and strong. “I watched the way you looked at her. The way you made space for her. Hell, I saw you pick lavender nail polish off her damn fingers like it was nothin’. The way you kept lookin’ to her to see if she thought something was funny. The way you smiled brighter just from seein her smile; if that ain’t love what is it?”

I huffed a broken laugh. “I don’t know.”

“You love that girl,” she repeated. I looked at her. Really looked. She looked tired. Worn. But her eyes were still strong. “I need you to straighten up, baby,” she said softly. “I need you. Princess needs you. King would’ve never wanted this for you.” She sat back on her heels, staring up at me. “I’m tryin’ to move forward, Royal. And I need you to do the same.”

I nodded once. Couldn’t promise her nothin’. Couldn’t make sense of half the shit goin’ on in my heart. But I heard her. Andfor the first time in weeks… I let the guilt slip just enough to feel the grief. Just enough to feel something other than anger.

17

ROYAL

It had been four days since I walked out of my mama’s kitchen feelin’ like I’d been gut-punched with the truth she told. Not ‘cause of what she said… but ‘cause she was right. Hell, she always was.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stepped foot inside my apartment. I’d been too fucked up to face it. Too afraid of the silence. The shadows. The memory of what came right before the worst night of my life. But today—I had to stop runnin’.

I pressed the code in and opened the door. The air was stale. Still smelled like whatever cologne I last sprayed in here… and her. That soft-ass vanilla scent Averi always left behind. She used to tease me, callin’ it her way of markin’ her territory.

I stepped inside slowly, like I was trespassin’ in my own space. It was all still the same. Couch pillows crooked from when we were here last. The hoodie she used to steal from my closet, the one she had on when I came back from the hospital after getting the news, still tossed over the armrest. My chest tightened, I didn’t know if it was grief or guilt—or both.

My duffle bag dropped on the floor with a heavy thud then I dragged my feet toward my bedroom, peeled off my hoodie and grabbed the remote. I flipped the TV on just to kill the quiet andthat’s when I saw it. A small black box sittin’ dead center on my dresser.

I froze. The box was from Solomon’s. Fuck.

I walked over slowly, already knowin’ what was inside. My assistant Cory must’ve put it there, tryna be helpful or whatever. But just lookin’ at it felt like a slap in the face.

It was the bracelet I bought her. A thin, icy diamond tennis piece. Simple, elegant… just like her. I was gon’ give it to her the night she flew back to LA. A "thank you" for inspiring me, grounding me… lovin’ me. Instead, I gave her a broken heart.

I popped the closet open, keyed in the code to my safe, and tucked it inside. Out of sight. But not outta mind.

After a hot-ass shower and a much-needed shape-up in the mirror, I started feelin’ a little more like myself. I hadn’t been lookin’ right. Not for a while. My reflection was the first version of me I hadn’t hated in weeks.

Next step: food. I ordered from Nancy’s Pizza, something simple; a large meat lovers pizza with a 30 piece hot wings.

I texted Zay earlier in the day to come through. He didn’t ask why but let me know he’d come over. When the buzzer rang, I grabbed the food and just barely had time to set it out before a knock followed. I opened the door and there he was—sunglasses on, locs pulled back, hoodie half-zipped like he was too cool for the weather.

“Every time food’s involved,” I said with a small grin, “your greedy ass pop up quick.”

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