Page 143 of Rome: The Ballerina

Muah.

Muah.

And, again.

I closed my eyes, etching this memory in my head. I wanted to be reminded of what I was waiting for in the next lifetime.

“I wanna fold clothes fa ya–” Saint sang, standing on his feet. “I wanna make you feel good.”

I chuckled, amused by his theatrics. He disappeared in the toilet area as he collected my clothes. When he returned, he used them as a makeshift guitar.

“Baby I want to do the right things… they feel so much better than the wrong things.”

He headed for the door, playing his heart out on the imaginary guitar.

Just as he met the threshold, he turned around and shouted, “I never thought I’d see the day I’m drinking almond milk. You soft, I wanna fold clothes fa ya.”

My entire face upturned with a smile. Saint had made it clear that he desired companionship. He wanted to be a partner. A true partner. A present partner. He didn’t want a partner selfishly.

“If I could make life easier… the way you do mine!” I heard him yell from the hallway.

“Save you some time. Alleviate a bit of stress from your mind,” I sang quietly, closing my eyes and bobbing my head, “Help you relax. Let you recline.”

A sigh followed as J. Cole’s lyrics played in my head. A massive yawn wasn’t very far behind. And, within seconds, I was counting sheep.

THIRTEEN

The Wayward Enchantress: Night One

My reflection reminded me I was Richie’s girl. His baby girl. He’d marked me with his features. With his love. With his morals. With his drive. With his confidence. With his perfectionism. With his work ethic.

Royce’s hands slid around my body. Her head landed between my shoulder and cheek. We shared the same face. Almost identical. But, our eyes and lips made it easy to tell us apart.

Richie’s girls.

“How are you doing, baby?” She asked, barely above a whisper.

There was something so serene about Royce. When she was around, there wouldn’t be an unturned stone. Everything was handled in her presence. Her attention to detail was unlike anything else. It was the reason she was who she was, meant what she meant to the family, and was able to do what she did so effortlessly.

She never forgot a name, face, friend, or foe. Dates and times and locations were stamped on her brain. She was the most resourceful of us all, Teddy included. While he was the brains of the family, Royce was the lungs that kept it alive.

Rugger, the skin.

Rather, the arteries.

Range, the liver.

Roulette, the eyes.

Roaman, the bones.

Me… the heart.

“Prepared.”

“Nervous, any?”

I shook my head.

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