Page 111 of Certified To Handle You 2

We was both quiet for a minute before Renza ran his hand down his face.

“I’on wanna fight with you, Reni,” he said. “I came over here to spend time with you, not argue. We keep goin’ in circles, and I don’t like where this shit headed.”

I stared at him, hopin’ he’d change his mind. The old Renza would’ve…

He would’ve pulled me into his arms, called me hardheaded, and stayed until neither one of us remembered why we was upset.

This Renza just looked exhausted…

He walked over until he was standin’ right in front of me. Without sayin’ another word, he cupped the side of my face and pressed a gentle kiss against my cheek.

“I’mma holla at you,” he said soft.

I wanted to reach for him. I wanted to stop him. Instead, I stood here while he turned toward the front door. I watched him unlock it, pull it open, and step out before closin’ it behind him.

The click of the door echoed through my condo, and somehow that little sound hurt worse than every word we had just said.

I stayed exactly where I was, starin’ at the door long after he was gone. His smell still lingered in my living room, and the sofa behind me still held the shape of where he’d been sittin’. Everything around me looked the same. Only we didn’t…

For the first time since we broke up, I couldn’t shake the feelin’ that I wasn’t just missin’ the man I used to love.

I was watchin’ him become somebody I could no longer reach.

Cloud 9 Dining

Two days later…

Just to keep my mind off a lot of shit, I had been movin’ around Trill-Land takin’ care of whatever needed my attention.

Now, I was out with my cousins, eatin’ brunch at Cloud 9 while we caught up on shit we normally ain’t get a chance to talk about.

Pressure had been around the family, but he ain’t really been outside with us since everything started goin’ on between him and Pluto. He had been stayin’ close to his crib, his wife and them kids, so when he agreed to come eat with me and ‘Lo, neither one of us gave him a hard time about how long it had been.

We sat at one of the tables near the windows with enough food spread across it for five people. Pressure had steak and eggs in front of him, Kay’Lo had some stuffed French toast with chicken, and I had been movin’ between my own plate and whatever looked good enough to reach across the table for. The mimosas kept comin’, but none of us was drinkin’ enough to get fucked up ‘cause we still had shit to handle once we left.

Pressure cut another piece of his steak before tellin’ us, “Me and Pluto back in therapy.”

Kay’Lo looked up from his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “How that shit goin’?”

Pressure chewed his food, took a drink of his mimosa and sat the glass back down before answerin’ him. “It’s straight. We gettin’ somewhere, but it ain’t no overnight shit.”

“You feel like she openin’ up more?” I asked while leanin’ back in my chair.

“Sometimes,” Pressure answered. “Other times, she sit there and look at the therapist like she wanna beat her ass for askin’ questions.”

Kay’Lo laughed and shook his head. “That sound like Pluto.”

“Yeah, but she still be answerin’. Might take her five minutes and a whole attitude, but she talk.”

That was progress for Pluto ‘cause she had always been the type to go quiet when too much shit was sittin’ on her. Pressure was the same way in his own right, which was probably why they needed somebody in the middle makin’ both of ‘em finish a conversation instead of turnin’ they backs and walkin’ away from it.

I picked up my glass and asked, “Y’all finally fuck yet?”

Pressure gave me a hard look from across the table. “Nigga, why that gotta be the first thing you ask?”

‘Cause it been months,” I replied. “You married and sittin’ around scared to touch her.”

“I ain’t scared to touch my wife,” Pressure said before cuttin’ into his eggs.