Page 86 of Tangled Hearts
“How the fuck are you self-reflecting when you made your bed? It’s messy, but yours to lay in.”
Head jerking back, Knycole’s mouth dropped. “Do you even love Christian?”
“As much as you love Rock,” Noir snapped back still unfazed by the change in energy between her and the only girl she was willing to claim as a sister. “Yea, see how that shit works?’
“What are you even talking about? Like what the fuck Noir, if you got something to say, just say that shit!”
“If only it was that easy,” Noir sighed, fueling Knycole’s bubbling rage. “Do you love Rock?”
“Why not ask about Hov?”
“Because I know the answer to that shit. Hell, everybody does. Probably even Rock… if he was being honest.” Noir shrugged, pulling on the blunt again.
The high made her feel better while also intensifying the feeling of betrayal. She loved Christian. Saw a future with him, but now that was out the window. Some things were unforgivable and if she wasn’t a sore loser, she would’ve cut ties. However, the thought of Chanta winning had Noir wanting to string him along just because she knew she could.
“Let’s lay this all out on the table. Tell me how dumb I am and how I can’t get this love shit right,” Knycole jumped up, pacing the floor, hands flying in the air as she talked.
“Oh you got it right,” Noir rolled her eyes. “Did a reverse, delete, and some more weird shit but you got it right. I’m just trying to figure out how the fuck you fumble some good shit like that? Like how do you letHovwalk away?Him?Quameek… the nigga that sent your daddy to rehab to help heal your heart. The nigga that loves on you like you’re his everything. And don’t get me started on how good of a father he is.” Noir got a little chokedup thinking about Hov and just how great of a person he is. “The man that will die for you… said I could have his heart because his bro—his homie broke mine. How do you do him like that?”
Noir was a mess now. Tears she was unable to catch running down her face. Knowing that Hov was probably in his room alone nursing an aching heart, trumped her own sorrows.
Knycole grabbed her own chest. “Noir…”
“No,” she shook her head. “You really did him wrong and now he’s alone. No you, and no Rock—but I can’t put that Rock shit on you. Hov did that to himself.”
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix it.”
Shaking her head, Noir agreed. “No, you can’t fix it. But I’m about to go.”
There was no need for Noir to continue. She had a ride to catch and a heart to mend.
Using the back of her hand, Knycole wiped her face. “Where you going?”
Noir kissed her teeth. “If you must know… with Cash.” She held her hand up to stop whatever Knycole was prepared to say. “I keep telling you I ain’t like you. I like revenge, justice, and whatever else will make me feel better.”
Knycole snorted a conniving laugh. “Oh, you’re more like me than you know. You like all those things but what happens when Cash likes more? Huh? What happens when he’s playing for keeps while you’re just playing?”
“Girl, please. You just talking because I told you about yourself.” Noir pursed her lips. “Don’t worry about me, boo. Just get your coochie in check and love on my boy like you’re supposed to. Ain’t no need for the sheisty shit if you ain’t gonna make that shit worth it.”
Knycole just stood there, soaking in all the slick talk Noir had for her. There was nothing left for Knycole to say, because she did need to get her shit in check. Needed to get her soul in order.
Order?
What even was that?
Order wasn’t just cleaning up your room or making neat lines out of mess. Order was soul work. It was discipline. It was telling the truth when lying felt easier. It was boundaries when your heart wanted to fold. Knycole had never known order… never stared that hoe in the face.
Chaos was what raised her. Disappointment was what shaped her. Love. Crooked, cracked, reckless love. That was what kept her breathing. But order? That was foreign. That was the thing she kept running from, the thing that kept her repeating the same cycles.
Order was scary because it meant accountability. It meant she couldn’t blame Rock’s hurt or Hov’s silence, or even her father’s early absence. It meant the mirror was hers to look into, and the reflection had no excuses.
Noir didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she walked out the room, letting the smoke creep into the hall.
Hov’s new home was massive in size and even bigger in loneliness. The ceilings stretched high. The marble floors gleamed, but they echoed when you walked across them, like the house was reminding you of how empty it really was.
The furniture was minimal, just enough for Qua to be comfortable. A sectional in the living room, a dining table that had never been eaten on. The walls were bare. No pictures, no memories, just blank space daring him to fill it. The only warmth lived in Qua’s artwork pinned to the industrial-size refrigerator.
Every corner smelled like money. New leather, polished wood, and fresh paint. But it didn’t smell like home. The closets were full, but the house was hollow. All that space, all that silence, and not a single soul to share it with.
