Page 48 of Certified To Handle You 2

I wasn’t about to drive my own car to Couture’s apartment and give that nigga a chance to follow me over there, so I called one of my cousins and asked if I could borrow her car for a few hours. She ain’t ask me a bunch of questions, which Iappreciated, and once she handed me the keys, I drove straight to Couture’s place.

I spent the first part of the day helpin’ him finish packin’. Couture already had most of his clothes laid out, but there was still lil’ shit everywhere that he would’ve forgotten if I wasn’t there.

I folded shirts, matched up a few outfits for him, and kept remindin’ him about chargers and whatever else he needed for the trip while he moved through the apartment gettin’ everything together. Every few minutes he would stop what he was doin’ just to kiss me or pull me close for a second before goin’ right back to packin’, and I ain’t complain ‘cause I knew I wasn’t gon’ see him for another two weeks.

When it was time to leave, I drove him to the airport in my cousin’s car and stayed with him until he had to go inside. Couture hugged me for a long time before kissin’ me and tellin’ me he would call once he landed. I watched him walk away with his bags before I finally got back in the car, and I ain’t pull off until I couldn’t see him no more.

Once I returned my cousin’s car, I thought maybe I could finally get a few days where everything wasn’t so damn complicated. But Renza clearly had other plans.

For the next few days, that nigga made sure I couldn’t go too long without bein’ reminded that he was still here.

It started the mornin’ after Couture left when I opened the front door and found this big ass arrangement of flowers sittin’ on the porch. They was beautiful too, which irritated me even more ‘cause Renza knew exactly what kind of flowers I liked. There was a card tucked inside, and instead of writin’ some long ass paragraph beggin’ me to talk to him, all he wrote was that he missed me and hoped I had a good day.

I read the note twice before I caught myself and sucked my teeth.

The flowers still came inside with me, though…

The next day, I came outside to leave and found another note tucked under the windshield wiper of my car. I ain’t even have to open it to know who left it, and for a few seconds, I stood there starin’ at that folded piece of paper ‘cause I couldn’t believe Renza was still keepin’ this shit up.

When I finally opened it, his message was short.

You can keep me blocked, ‘Nelle. I’m still gon’ love you.

“Boy, if you don’t go the fuck home,” I muttered, even though I folded the note back up and put it inside my purse.

That was how Renza had been gettin’ me. He wasn’t blowin’ my phone up no more or sittin’ outside the house all night like he had done when he first got here. Instead, he had started movin’ different. He would leave somethin’ and disappear before I could catch him. One afternoon it was food from a spot he knew I loved. The next mornin’ there was another arrangement on the porch, and later that same day, I found a note on my car tellin’ me he hoped I was smilin’.

Every single time, I told myself I wasn’t impressed. Then every single time, my ass kept whatever he left.

By the fourth day, it was startin’ to get on my nerves for a completely different reason ‘cause I knew exactly what the fuck he was doin’. Renza wasn’t tryna force me to talk to him no more. He was just makin’ sure I thought about his ass, and unfortunately for me, the shit was workin’.

I would walk past the flowers in the house and think about him. I would open my purse and see one of his folded notes at the bottom, then get irritated all over again ‘cause I still hadn’t thrown the damn thing away. Even when I got in my car, I found myself lookin’ at my windshield before pullin’ off just to see if he had left somethin’ else.

That was when I knew his ass was wearin’ me down.

I still hadn’t called him, though, and I damn sure hadn’t gone lookin’ for him.

Couture called me whenever he had time between work and whatever else he had goin’ on, and I talked to him the same way I always did. I wasn’t sittin’ around waitin’ on Renza or makin’ plans to see him, but I would be lyin’ if I said his persistence wasn’t startin’ to get to me.

The fucked up part was that I knew Renza well enough to know he wasn’t gon’ stop just ‘cause I ignored him. If anything, that probably made his ass worse.

That mornin’, my mama had got dressed for work and left the house while I stayed behind with absolutely no plans of goin’ nowhere. I had already showered and put on some lil’ shorts with a fitted shirt, and I was stretched out on the couch scrollin’ through my phone while the television played in front of me.

I had finally got comfortable when somebody knocked on the front door.

At first, I ignored it ‘cause I wasn’t expectin’ nobody. Then another knock came a few seconds later, and somethin’ in me already knew who the hell was standin’ on the other side. I sat up and stared toward the door.

“This nigga,” I whispered before gettin’ off the couch.

The closer I got, the more irritated I became ‘cause this was the first time Renza had actually walked his ass on the porch and knocked. For the past few days, he had been leavin’ his lil’ gifts and disappearin’ before I could say somethin’, but apparently he had decided that phase was over.

I looked through the peephole before openin’ the door, and of course, there his ass was.

Renza stood on the porch lookin’ good enough to immediately piss me off.

He had on a fitted black shirt with some writin’ on it that hugged his chest and arms, some dark jeans and a fresh pair ofshoes. His haircut looked like he had just got it touched up, and his beard was lined clean around his face.

The worst part was the way he looked at me once I opened the door.