Page 3 of He Don't Play About Me
“Well, I just want some movement soon. You are getting older, and so am I.”
I jerked away from her hands to look at her.
“Slim, you are thirty, I’m thirty-two. We have time.”
Islah nodded softly, brushing her hair outta her face, and I sat back.
For a second, it was just the feelin’ of her hands movin’ through my hair and the normal noise around the block, bitches yellin’ tryin’ to get attention and niggas tryna make moves.
“Time waits for no one,” she said under her breath.
She was startin’ to get to me. “Why the fuck are you talkin’ like we on a fuckin’ deadline?”
“Because I don’t want to wake up ten years from now still in this lil’ ass apartment, still on this porch doin’ your hair.”
That shit hit different.
I kept my face straight even though she couldn’t see it. “You won’t, Islah. I got us.”
“How you so sure, Gio? We?—”
“Because I don’t lose,” I said, cutting her off. “We don’t have to race against time.”
“Gio, we have been together for seven years; it’s been enough time.”
I clapped my hands, rubbin’ my palms together. “Iight, Islah, you want the house? Cool, we will get the house. You want the ring? I’ll put a big ass rock on ya finger. And kids? We can have as many kids as you want, baby. We can get busy right now if that will calm ya ass down. I’m not rushin’ shit while I’m buildin’.”
“What are you buildin’ for us exactly?”
“An empire?—”
“I don’t want a drug empire, Gio. I want us to have something more than this. I…”
She stopped touching my hair, and I turned and looked at her. She was givin’ me that pouting face, the one that always got to me. I grabbed her hand and walked her around the chair, sittin’ her on my lap.
“What is it, boo? Talk to me,” I said, brushing her hair outta her face.
Islah let out a deep breath. “I don’t question where I stand in your life. I just question where we are goin’. I just thought we would have one of those things knocked off by now.”
I nodded. I understood where she was comin’ from, but again, a nigga was grindin.
“Islah, my baby, my love, my boo thang…at the end of the day, you are not leaving me, and even if you tried, I won’t let you.You will get every single damn thing you want; you just need to stay down for your nigga.”
Islah stared at me for a second after that. Not scared. Not impressed. Just lookin’ at me like she was weighin’ what I said.
“I’ve been down; that is not the issue.”
Her tone wasn’t loud, it wasn’t dramatic. It was like she was trying to say somethin’ but didn’t know how to say it.
“I know,” I muttered.
She sucked her teeth as she rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to drag you down, baby. I don’t want to fight you. I just…I just want more for us.”
I nodded. “And we will more.”
“When?” she responded. I felt the pressure.
I studied her face for a second, thinkin’ about what she asked. It wasn’t a question of if I loved her; she knew I did more than anything in this world. She just wanted proof in a different form.
