Page 134 of Lyric Squared

“I’m just a girl,” she laughed, wiping her tears.

“You’re my girl.”

Within two hours of eating,Lyric was fast asleep. From the opposite corner of our bedroom, I watched her. The moon’s glow made her skin glisten.

My sleeping beauty.

There was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. And I couldn’t help but chastise myself for taking so long to get here. I’d known I loved Lyric for a long time. I’d also known thatdistance did nothing but intensify my yearning. Still, I stayed away. Hoping, praying it would suffice. It didn’t.

Because when real love is the reason, there will never be enough miles between two hearts to keep them at bay. Our desires kept our hearts and heads free of the noise. It didn’t matter who she was loving or who I was fucking, we always knew where we belonged.

I knew I’d break the face of every motherfucker that broke her heart, so I stayed away to stay my Black ass out of jail. But, I still ended up hugging them bars and strangely that became the source of Lyric’s audacity. I’d never forget the letter she’d written to me. The words looped in my head daily.

Bzzt.

My cell vibrated, startling me slightly. I dug into my pants to retrieve it. I wasn’t surprised to see Luca’s name on the screen.

My legs began moving toward the door as I swiped the screen. When I finally put the phone up to my ear, I was just outside of our bedroom where my angel was sleeping.

“Yeah?”

“How is she?”

“Getting better,” I informed him.

“Good. Good. How is she feeling?”

“Emotional. Every day.”

“You need us to take her off your hands for a day or so?”

I shook my head as if he could see me.

“Nah. She’s right where she needs to be. She’s safe here. She can be as sad as she wants. As happy as she wants. As confused as she wants. As difficult as she wants. I don’t need a break from Lyric, Luca. I never will.”

There was a brief silence.

“I know.”

There was an even longer pause before Luca spoke again.

“Forgive me–forgive me for making this shit about my feelings back at the hospital. It ain’t.”

“You had every right. It was expected. I respect it.”

“You’re family.”

“You ain’t got to tell me what I already know, nigga.”

A chuckle lightened the conversation.

“Aight. Take care of my sister. If you need us, we’re here.”

“Always.”

I ended the call, inhaling as deeply as I’d exhaled. All was well in my world.

TWENTY