Page 236 of The Sweetest Return

“You should have told me eventually.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“Fine. Definitely.” He paused. “I’m telling you now because I don’t want you making a decision based on an old version of what happened. Dre was never against you. Not then. Not now. Whatever happens with that coaching job, know that man is on your side.”

My throat tightened so hard I could barely answer.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I thought about Dre standing beside me in a private terminal and telling everyone I was the client lead. Helping me unpack boxes. Giving me the code to his house because he wanted me there. Having Saint Aurelia make me diamonds bold enough to stand beside his because he thought I deserved them. Kissing me like patience was something he could learn if it meant loving me better.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I do.”

“Good.”

A long silence passed between us.

Then Jabari said, “Also, send me the gift amount before I decide love has made you financially irresponsible.”

I laughed, but it broke in the middle.

“You are so irritating.”

“And emotionally useful. Growth.”

“Bye, Bari.”

“Bye, Mani.”

The call ended, and for several blocks, I drove in silence.

Eight years ago, I had left believing Dre’s restraint meant he had accepted the end before I did. I thought he let me walk away because football, the draft, and the life waiting for him mattered more than asking me to stay.

But Dre had broken too.

Dre had sat in his apartment with a bottle beside him and a future in front of him he did not know how to celebrate because I was gone.

When I reached the gate to his house, I was still carrying that image. It did not feel like proof or guilt. It felt like one more piece of the truth I should have had a long time ago.

I entered the code with fingers that shook only a little.

The gate opened. And I drove toward the man I had once misunderstood, trying this time to meet him with the whole truth in my hands.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“You been watching that door,” Tasha said.

“I have not.”

“You absolutely have.”

I gave her a look.

Tasha stood at my stove stirring something that smelled like garlic, butter, lemon, and whatever else she did to salmon that made me stop pretending protein and discipline could carry a grown man through life.