Page 256 of Invisible Bars
"Okay. Go to your room, change into a r-robe, and meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes.”
Ms. Shirley looked at me like she didn’t quite believe I was serious—but she didn’t argue. She just nodded and walked off, wiping at her cheeks.
Once she was gone, I got to work.
The tub was already filling with hot water, steam curling softly into the air like whispered comfort. I scattered eucalyptus leaves,thin slices of lemon, and added a few drops of lavender oil,just like she had done for me that night I could barely breathe. Then I added a few personal touches—rose petals, because she was always talking about wanting “something pretty in her life,” and a small, folded card that read:“Royal treatment only.”
The towels were fluffed and stacked neatly on the marble ledge.
A small speaker played Anita Baker in the corner, low and humming. Candles lined the edge of the tub,their warm vanilla scent wrapping around the space like a hug.
I was adjusting the bath pillow,making sure it would sit just right behind her neck, when I heard the door creak open behind me.
“Can I come in?” she called gently.
I smiled without turning around.
“Yes, ma’am.”
When she stepped into the bathroom, she froze in place.
“Lord… it smells like peace in here,” she whispered.
I laughed, the sound watery in my throat.
“You deserve it,” I said. “Every bit of it.”
Ms. Shirley started untying her robe, and before I could turn around, she’d dropped it to the floor.
I quickly spun on her heel.
“Whoa—Ms. Shirley! You could’ve warned me.”
“Oh, please,” she said, stepping into the tub with a sigh of deep relief. “You probably wanted me to turn my head whenit was vice versa, but baby... I’m old school. We both got the same parts. And if you ain’t seen a pair of real titties before, congratulations… now you have. You’ll live.”
That sent me laughing until she had to brace herself on the counter. A few small tics snuck out—shoulder jerking, a small grunt—but I didn’t care.
“Just know, if that husband of yours comes up in here, you better throw me a towel and act like I fell in by accident.”
I laughed, then turned back around. “With your clothesoff? That will be h-hard to convince him. But Imanio won’t be upset; if anything, he’ll probably ask if you want a glass of wine. Oh! I… I should’ve got you that… and some cucumbers.”
The water lapped softly as Ms. Shirley settled in, letting out a long, slow sigh and tilting her head back.
“It’s fine, baby. This will do. This... this right here is healing. I feel better already.”
That day, I realized giving peace could be just as powerful as receiving it.
“Well, I’ll let you be, and like you told me, take your time.”
Ms. Shirley briefly opened her eyes to say, “Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t know what happened for you to end up here or married to Mr. Kors, but just know, God doesn’t make mistakes. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”
“Yeah. I think I am.”
Chapter Forty-Two
IMANIO
“She’s trending in three countries… and not in a good way,” Saroya said, trying not to sound panicked, clicked through slides no one cared about—images of tweets, blog headlines, and screenshots of Aaliyah’s fake sonogram post.
