Page 134 of Vega

He looked so defeated when he sighed and replied, “Somebody I cared about and didn’t choose.”

The honesty in that sentence got my full attention.

“She was in my life for a long time,” he said. “She played the part of my woman without me giving her everything that came with that. She was loyal in ways I probably got too used to receiving without returning it.”

“What happened?”

I noticed his jaw flexing. “I wouldn’t commit to her or the future she wanted with me. I kept letting her fill a space in my life without giving her the title or the promise.”

That hurt to hear, and it wasn’t even my story.

“She got tired?”

He scoffed with a wry chuckle. “She got smart. She blocked me on everything, moved out of her place, took a job out of town, and made it real hard for me to reach her.”

“But you have the means to reach anybody if you really wanted to. So why don’t you find her?”

Prodigy’s eyes came to mine. “Because I care about her too much to track her down just to not give her what she wants. I miss her. I miss what she brought to my life.” His fingers tapped once against the wheel. “But I still don’t know if I want to be married. And if I find her just because I’m lonely, jealous, or hurting, then I’m dragging her back into the same situation she finally had enough sense to leave.”

“You think you let your wife get away?”

His chest rose slowly and then fell with a deep breath. “Probably.”

Hearing that made something in me ache for Kash. Kash had chosen me out loud and with no hesitation. He never made me guess where I fit. He wasn’t perfect. But I had never had to wonder if he wanted me as his woman.

That realization made the grief more explosive, but it also made me grateful.

Prodigy shifted in his seat. “You’re gonna get through this, Novi. You don’t have to believe it today,” he went on. “You don’t have to be strong. You can cry, yell, be mad at him, miss him, love him, and still get up tomorrow. All of that can exist at once.”

My eyes burned again, but I didn’t want to start crying.

“You’re carrying his baby,” he said. “That don’t mean grief gets to carry you. Not forever.”

“I don’t know how to carry pain this big by myself.” I stared through the windshield at the garage door. “The Cartiers are still trying to figure out why Kash was murdered and what’s in that phone, so everybody thinks it’s best that I stay here. I understand it. I do. But understanding it doesn’t make this house feel less empty. I talk to my family and friends. They call me, text me, pray with me, cry with me, all of that. But when the call ends, they go back to their lives, and I’m still sitting in that house with my heartbreak and this baby growing inside me.” My hand went to my stomach. “Nobody is physically here to distract me.”

Prodigy rested one hand on the wheel and turned more toward me.

“That’s why I appreciate when you come by,” I admitted. “And that scares me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m starting to wait for it. I feel better when you show up. I’m starting to depend on visits from somebody who doesn’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t mind coming.”

“I know. That might be part of the problem.”

Being around Prodigy confused me. He was a beautiful man, and I had eyes, even with my whole life falling apart. The way he moved, listened, and provided protection for me messed with my head. I was attracted to him, but it wasn’t only physical. I enjoyed his company. I liked when he came around. I felt safer when he was near.

Maybe I looked forward to seeing him because he was all I had in that house. Maybe I looked forward to him because he made the silence less cruel after my calls with my family ended. It was asinine to think that underneath all this grief, I truly craved his presence.

Kash was gone, but my love for him wasn’t.

As I was lost in my thoughts, Prodigy leaned in closer, and my breath caught.

I noticed his mouth, and his eyes locked on mine.

For a second, neither of us moved.