Page 67 of The Don's Virgin Obsession
“My father taught me how to survive pressure, not what to do once something real touched me.”
Iwent back to Crown Heights after I left my condo because home wasn’t doing nothing but letting my thoughts go extreme. The site was empty when I pulled up. Security was outside, workers gone, machines parked, lights still on in certain units. I sat in my truck for a minute before getting out, looking at the buildings.
I finally walked inside with my blunt behind my ear, music low from my phone in my hand. I didn’t even really want to smoke. I just needed something with me.
Crown Heights looked good.
That was the issue in my head.
Everywhere I walked, I could see Sade.
Her decisions.
Her corrections.
Her attitude.
The woman had touched damn near every part of this project already, and we were only a month in. I hated how much senseshe made. Hated how good her work was. Hated how she could challenge me and be right at the same time.
I stopped in one of the units and looked at the entryway she had changed without asking me.
It looked better.
I shook my head and laughed under my breath.
“Bossy ass lady,” I uttered.
My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t looking at it. I already knew what I would see if I opened it. Messages. Calls. Women I didn’t want to answer. Business I didn’t want to deal with at the moment.
My thoughts went to Sade kissing her new nigga.
That bothered me more than it should have.
It wasn’t even the kiss for real. Women kissed niggas every day. It was how she looked with him. Softer. Relaxed. Not bracing herself for the next argument. Not cutting her eyes at him. Not standing ten toes down like she was waiting for war.
She looked peaceful around that nigga.
That shit punched me in the chest.
I moved through another unit, checking work that didn’t need checking, thinking.
Sade only seemed relaxed once she left me.
I didn’t like that.
I didn’t want to care either.
That made it worse.
I left the building ten minutes later and told security to lock everything back up. I didn’t go home.
I drove to my parents’ house.
My mother’s car was in the driveway when I pulled up. Lights on in the kitchen. Same house I grew up in.
I let myself in.
My mother was in the kitchen putting food in containers. She looked up when I walked in, smiled softly, then went back to what she was doing.
