Page 2 of Set My Soul Ablaze

“Who is on schedule tomorrow? I forgot to check before I left,” Dominique asked as she pulled her keys out of her designer purse.

“Clareese, Diego, and Alisa. Alisa is opening and Diego is closing,” I replied.

“Are you coming in?” Kira asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t plan on it. None of my regulars booked appointments for the next couple of days, actually, so I plan to sleep in and rest my body. Back-to-back large dogs have my back in need of a good massage.”

“Definitely treat yourself, Boss. You’ve been in the shop every day this week. You had several VIPs. You deserve the rest.” Kira bumped her hip against mine.

“Thank you, boo,” I replied.

“Y’all be safe. I’m trying to beat the traffic,” Dominique added.

“Same. Be safe, ladies.” I grabbed my keys and climbed into my three-row SUV. The black-on-black design was my favorite because I bought it with my first big check. I plugged my phone in, tapped my car playlist, and headed home.

As I pulled into the garage, I noticed Juda’s truck parked on the street. The annoyingly high lifted pickup truck was unmistakable and an eyesore in the cul-de-sac I lived in. I turned off my engine and sat in silence as the garage door closed.

With Juda being home, I had to prepare myself mentally and physically for whatever mood he would be in when I opened the door. Juda was the type of man to get mad at a gust of wind if it blew too hard his way. He was easily irritable and had only gotten worse the last few months, to the point I didn’t kiss him or let him touch me intimately. A moody man made my pussy dry and shrivel up like a snail sprinkled with salt.

There were a lot of signs I ignored for the sake of preserving my relationship. The dread I felt coming home to Juda was the first red flag I ignored daily. After a long day, my home should be my safe space, but it was a battlefield. With a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and phone and made my way through the garage. I set my purse and keys on the kitchen island and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. My life was on a permanent autopilot. Every day, my movements were the same:

come home

grab a drink

rummage through the refrigerator and pantry for something to make a quick meal—although recently, takeout had been my go-to 80% of the time

sit on the couch

listen to Juda bitch and complain about something

shower

doomscroll

fall asleep

repeat

With a sway of my hip, I bumped the refrigerator door closed and headed into the living room, where I heard the low hum of the TV.

“Ju, I’m going to order a combo from the burger spot. Do you want something?” I asked as I scrolled to my food delivery app on my phone. When I didn’t get a reply, I lifted my gaze to my boyfriend.

Stoic, pursed lips.

Dark, angry brown eyes.

Familiar, yet unrecognizable.

I inhaled sharply. The irritation spread through my fingers, across my chest, and behind my eyes. “Juda?”

“Who is he?”

“Huh?”

“Who. Is. He?” The anger laced his voice. The sound pierced my ears, making me pause.

“Who is who?” My eyebrows knitted together.