Page 137 of Certified To Handle You 2

My finger paused over it ‘cause that was the final piece of proof that the nigga I lowkey still loved still loved me back. Then I remembered Couture tied up inside his own trunk, lookin’ at me like I was the only person he could trust enough to help him.

I deleted the voicemail…

After that, I blocked Renza’s number.

The screen looked too clean once everything was gone, but maybe clean was what I needed. I couldn’t keep carryin’ pieces of him while tryna convince Couture that I was fully present in what we had.

I grabbed my purse, got out of the car and headed toward Couture’s apartment.

The walk from the parkin’ lot felt longer than usual. I noticed the way Couture’s curtains was partly open and the way his car sat near the buildin’ where he could see it from the window.

When I reached his door, I knocked instead of usin’ the key he had given me ‘cause everything felt different now.

A few seconds passed before the lock turned. Couture opened the door with a gun lowered near his thigh.

The sight of it made my heart hurt, but I kept my face calm. Soon as he saw me, some of the hardness left his expression. He moved the gun away and stepped aside. His eyes moved past me toward the hallway before he pulled me inside and locked the door again. He checked the lock twice, then looked through the peephole before settin’ the gun on a table near the wall.

I watched him do all of it without sayin’ nothin’.

He had on gray sweats and a plain black shirt, but he looked tired. The bruise near the side of his head started fadin’, and the marks around his wrists wasn’t as red as they had been five days ago. Still, I could see what happened sittin’ all over him.

I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his waist.

Couture hesitated before his arms came around me, but once they did, he held me tight. I pressed my face against his chest and stayed here ‘cause I needed him to feel that I wasn’t scared of him or ashamed of what happened.

“I missed you,” I said while rubbin’ my hands along his back.

“I missed you too,” Couture answered, his voice lower than usual.

I lifted my head and kissed him. At first, his lips barely moved against mine, but after a second, he kissed me back and pulled me closer. There was still anger in him, but it wasn’t directed at me. He was tryna hold on to himself while processin’ somethin’ no man expected to live through.

When we pulled apart, I rubbed my thumb over his cheek.

“You okay?” I asked.

Couture looked at me for a few seconds before answerin’. “I’m straight.”

I nodded ‘cause I wasn’t gon’ force him to say more than he was ready to say.

“You hungry?” he asked while slidin’ his hand down my arm.

“A lil’.”

“I made somethin’ earlier,” he told me. “I can warm it up.”

“That’s fine,” I replied, but I kept my arms around him another second before finally lettin’ go.

I let him lead me further into the apartment while my phone stayed inside my purse without one trace of Renza left on it.

This was where I was choosin’ to be.

Couture ain’t make me feel weak for stayin’. He made me feel like there was still a chance for somethin’ good after everything I had allowed Renza to drag me through. What happened to him ain’t make him less of a man to me, and it damn sure ain’t make me love him less.

If anything, seein’ him refuse to let somebody run him away from his own life made me respect him more. He was hurt, but he wasn’t turnin’ cruel. He wasn’t punishin’ me for findin’ him vulnerable, and he wasn’t pretendin’ none of it affected him just to prove somethin’. He was simply tryna move forward. And I wanted to do the same.

As Couture led me toward the kitchen, I looked back at the locked door one last time. Then I turned away from it and tightened my hand around his.

Whatever me and Renza had was over.