Page 216 of River & Crown
"River, don't be stupid," Kyree cut in from behind. "You are not giving this man your curls. Then I'll see you in the Shaderoom comments talking 'boutthis could've been me but my mama permed my hair when I was five, knowing your lying ass had a full head of hair."
I rolled my eyes hard, forgetting I'd even brought her ignorant ass with me.
"Kyree, shut up and get back in the car." I turned back to Crown, voice soft again. "Tell me what you want from me... and it's yours."
He stared at me as if he were memorizing my face for the last time.
"All I ever wanted was you, Four. Not just the parts you were comfortable giving, but all of you. Hoes barely got a meal out of me," he laughed sadly, "and somehow you managed to snatch my heart from wherever I hid that shit. I thought I did the same with yours, but you locked your heart up with a nigga I'll never let rest in peace."
"I don't love him. I love you, Crown. I want to be with you. Please don't do this to us."
Panicking, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him close. He didn't resist. Instead, he leaned in and kissed my forehead. His lips lingered as if this were goodbye. I tore away, chest heaving.
"If you walk away... we're done, Crown!"
He stared me down. His face twisted into a grimace. Then slowly, it relaxed, and I couldn't read him anymore.
"I'm on whatever you're on, Four," he quietly assured me. "Just know, I'm ready to arrange funerals every day of the year behind you. Together or not... you'll always be Mrs. Gravehart."
"So, I can't date because you don't want me?" I shouted.
"I always want you. I just don't trust that you want me."
"Then you can't fuck or date either!"
"I didn't plan on it. A bitch couldn't catch my nut even if I jerked my shit for her."
Crown gave me one last look, and thanks to my own ultimatum, he walked out of my life... forever.
Chapter 56
Crown Gravehart
Two Months Later...
Naomi sat across from me, one leg crossed over the other, with her pen and notepad resting lightly on her knee.
"We've touched on pieces of it," she stated gently.
I tensed.
"But I want to ask you directly. For the past month, we've been working to understand why you love so immensely... and why, when someone close to you disappoints you, your reactions spiral into extremes."
She paused, flipped through her notes, then looked back at me.
"Fighting your brother while he was recovering from multiple gunshot wounds, pointing a weapon at your girlfriend, choking her, digging up the body of her ex-boyfriend, and bringing his remains to dinner because you believe she still loves him. Maybe even more than she loves you, despite him being deceased."
Hearing her say it all out loud, one thing after another, made me feel like I needed a straitjacket.
"I know that shit sounds crazy," I muttered.
"I don't think you do, Cortez," she said, her voice firmer now. "I think you feel the guilt, maybe even the shame, but I'mnot sure you understand why those choices felt acceptable in those moments."
She paused, and I could feel the shift.
"I brought this up because I want to talk about the day your mother died."
Talking to Naomi had been easy since day one. She was an older black woman who had been through hell but didn't wear it like a wound. She wore it like a badge. Telling her about the things I'd done didn't feel like a confession. She didn't judge. She just jotted stuff down and kept her truths blunt.
