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“Is this about that woman?” Nate sneers.
“Adina. Her name’s Adina, notthat woman,” I say quietly, but fuck yeah, there’s bass in my voice. He’s going to respect her, or he won’t be around her. That’s if I can convince her to be around my ass. “But no, it’s not about her. Yeah, she might’ve shown up in my life and been the catalyst for this change, but it really has nothing to do with her. This is about us.”
“Are you punishing us, Solomon?” Caroline softly asks. “All we’ve done has only ever been out of love for both you and Khalil.”
“I know that, Caroline. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting down here having this conversation with you. It’s because I understand your actions are motivated by not just love for us but Kendra. We all lost her, and nobody hands out handbooks on how to move on when you lose a child or a wife or a mother. We did the best we could, but when it’s no longer working for everyone, you change. And it’s no longer working. Not the intrusion and questioning of my parenting. Not the policing of who I date. You’ve known me for seven years—the man I am, the parent I am. You should be able to trust that Khalil’s best interest will always come first and that I would never do anything to harm him or bring someone around him who would hurt him.”
“We do trust you. That’s never been an issue,” Nate asserts. “But if we can see what you can’t because you’re too close to a situation, you’resaying we can’t question you? Offer our opinion? Even when it’s going to affect our grandson?”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Nate’s lips snap close, but he glares at me. He’s not pleased with my answer at all. Possibly offended. That’s also his problem, not mine. “Can you offer an opinion? Sure. We’re also friends. But you give it, trust me to take it into consideration, and then drop it. You don’t keep hammering your opinion or try to force it on me. Let me repeat—I’m his father. I love my son and know what’s best for him. If you can’t trust that, then I don’t know what to tell you. And Nate.” I pin him with an unwavering, steady stare. “If you can’t learn to separate personal from professional, then we’re gonna have a problem. I respect you for the businessman you are, but if you threaten my job again over private issues between us, then I’ll leave the Pirates and we can just be in-laws. I won’t be emotionally or professionally pressured.”
Nate glances away from me, but not before I catch the remorse in his gaze. At least he has the grace to regret his decisions and actions. That’s a starting point, because I want to stay with my team. But I won’t allow him to use it to control me either.
“Understood,” Nate finally says. He looks at Caroline, and she slips her hand into his, wrapping her fingers around his. “I apologize for that. I just ...” He huffs out a breath, shifting his gaze to his half-eaten pie for a moment. “We miss her,” he finishes, voice thick, husky.
“I do too.” I swallow past my suddenly tight throat. “More than I can ever express. Would I have wanted our lives to turn out this way? No. But I can’t live in what-ifs. None of us can. I just want to be ... happy. My son to be both happy and healthy.”
“I’m sorry.” Caroline wipes at her eyes, then trails a trembling hand through her curls. “From your perspective, I can see how we overstepped. And I promise to try and do better. You’ll probably need to remind me a few times, but ...” She looses a shaky laugh. “But please, I just don’t want to lose my place in Khalil’s life. I don’t want him to forget Kendra.”
“That’ll never happen. Anyone I bring into our lives would never replace her. She was one of a kind. That doesn’t mean they won’t be just as special as her, just as loving. And I need you two to try and accept that.”
“We’ll try, son.” Nate nods. “We’ll definitely try.”
“That’s all I’m asking. We’ll begin from there.”
Chapter Eighteen
ADINA
Shutting my car off, I stare at the building that has been home to me for the past several years. The building I’d been so excited to be assigned to along with Dad and Malcolm. The building where I became part of a family. A building where I saw my future.
Then Keshaun dying happened.
Then Matt happened.
Then Solomon happened.
Funny that three of the most impactful events in my life so far revolve around three very different men for different reasons.
One loved and left me.
One tried to break me.
And one damn near did but instead put me on the path to recovering my power and voice.
Heaving a sigh, I push my driver’s door open and step out, then close it behind me. The sound of it shutting shouldn’t echo so loud in the morning air. But maybe it’s because, for the first time in two weeks—the weeks since I ended up in the hospital and I ended things with Solomon—my head is quiet. Calm. And resolved.
I inhale a deep breath and don’t move toward the building. Not just yet. I need a few more moments before I go into the station and either fuck up my career or set a wrong right, with the support of my officers.
Whichever way it goes, I’m going to be all right.
Whichever way it goes, I’m going to be free.
It’s taken me almost those two weeks to get here. To heal not just from my injury but from Solomon.
Just because I finally put myself first doesn’t mean I don’t still hurt or think about him or ... want him. But it does mean I decided my heart, my feelings, my autonomy over my life are a priority. And though it took me a while to get here—this emotional and mental place as well as this physical place—I’m here. I’m ready to walk into my station house and take back my power.
And I’m going to finish this and let the proverbial chips fall where they will. Here’s the thing. They’remychips. It’smydecision to toss them. It’smydecision to accept where they land, no matter how this all turns out.
