Page 95 of Roman Blake
I took a breath.
“I been… unfair,” I said. “In a lot of ways.”
He frowned a little. “How?”
“I keep sayin’ I don’t want no relationship, no expectations, no titles,” I said. “But meanwhile, I’m movin’ like I have one. I’m answerin’ you. I’m sleepin’ in your bed. I’m lettin’ you meet my people. I’m goin’ out my way just to be where you at. Then when it start feelin’ too real, I disappear and act brand new like you the only one trippin’.”
His jaw flexed, but he stayed quiet.
“I told myself I was protectin’ me,” I went on. “From you. From what this could be. From endin’ up like I was with Jordan—lookin’ crazy, feelin’ stupid, havin’ to rebuild myself from the floor up. But really… I been protectin’ my fear. Feedin’ it. Lettin’ it run the whole show.”
My eyes burned, but I pushed through.
“You not him, Roman,” I said. “I know that. Even when I be actin’ like I don’t. I weaponized what he did to me against you. Used it as a reason to keep you on a leash while you been out here givin’ me what I been sayin’ I wanted for years.”
He looked like he wanted to argue that last part, but he didn’t.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I added, pointin’ at him. “You been on some bullshit too. We not gon’ act like you hidin’ in women bathrooms and circlin’ blocks wasn’t wild as fuck.”
A small grin tugged at his mouth. “I told you I’m not healthy about you yet.”
“I know,” I said. “But lately… you been tryin’. Forreal. No shadow shit. No pop-ups. You text, you call, you let me breathe. I see it. I feel it.”
I paused, lickin’ my lips.
“And I had to ask myself,” I said slowly, “at what point do I stop punishin’ the nigga who actually showin’ up for what somebody else did to me?”
His eyes locked on mine.
I exhaled.
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “Scared of needin’ you. Scared of sayin’ I love you and havin’ you wake up one day and decide that’s too much. Scared of lettin’ you be my safe and then somethin’ happenin’ I can’t bounce back from.”
He swallowed.
“I been movin’ like if I don’t call it what it is, it can’t hurt me,” I said. “But it already do. When you fall back? That shit hurt. When I thought you was done with me for real? That shit hurt. So if I’m gon’ hurt either way, I’d rather it be ‘cause I actually tried… not ‘cause I played myself tryin’ to stay in control.”
The words sat there between us.
He leaned forward a little, elbows on his knees.
“What you sayin’, Melissa?” he asked, voice low.
I looked him dead in his eyes.
“I’m sayin’ I love you,” I said, the words feelin’ too big and too right all at once. “And it pisses me off. But I do. I’m in love with you, Roman.”
His whole face changed.
Jaw tightened, eyes softened, somethin’ like relief hittin’ him so hard I could almost hear it.
He didn’t jump up. Didn’t gloat. Didn’t hit me withI told you so.
He just breathed.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
I rolled my eyes, but my lips curved. “Don’t be extra.”
