Page 76 of Siren

The light belonged to me now. And somehow, I missed sharing it.

I held my own gaze in the mirror a moment longer.

Took in the woman I’d become—the one who told the label no when it mattered. Who demanded more and got it. Who loved a man in a kitchen, then stepped into the spotlight like she hadn’t just come apart in his arms the night before.

But somethinghadchanged and it started with GMA.

Taraj hadn’t come back to my suite after. Said he was tired and maybe he was. But it felt like more than exhaustion.

Since then…he’d been quieter. The texts had thinned out. The calls stopped altogether.

We weren’t broken, not officially. But there was space between us now. Unspoken. Unnamed.

And widening.

We were still smiling for cameras. Still singing like we belonged to one mic. But at night, he wasn’t there. And that silence—the kind only lovers feel in the chest—had started curling around the edges of everything.

Still, I felt him everywhere.

In the demo I looped just to hear his voice catch on the second verse.

In the scribbled lyrics I couldn’t finish because his presence wasn’t in the room to pull them from me.

In the ache in my jaw from holding back everything I wanted to say when we were alone for just a breath too long—and he looked away first.

I didn’t want him for clarity. Didn’t even want answers.

I just wanted him…near.

I wanted him because he quieted something in me.

Because I could be fire, and he wouldn’t flinch.

Because he looked at me—not the fame, not the voice, not the image—butme… and still leaned in.

Taraj didn’t complete me. He reminded me I was whole, even when I felt hollow. The man who laid me down like I was a hymn.

Who said,“I’m not pretending,”like it was scripture.

Who made love to my doubts and left them breathless.

And now he felt like a dream that hadn’t disappeared—just dimmed.

The photographer’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Ready when you are.”

I stood, smoothing the silk over my hips. Bare feet on warm white flooring. They walked me toward the arch they’d built—drapes of velvet, soft golds and lived-in browns. Everything lush. Everything soulful.

I reclined on a chaise, found my light, and let them shoot.

Click.

Another angle. Another breath.

Click.

I shifted, let my mouth part. Tilted my head and held something back in my eyes—just enough to make the mystery feel earned.

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