Page 68 of Certified to Handle You 3

My nerves was fucked up. My heart was worse. I kept lookin’ at my phone even though I hated myself a lil’ more every time I did.

I opened my call log and stared at Renza’s name until my eyes blurred. There was so many outgoin’ calls that it made my stomach turn. I looked crazy. I felt crazy. And still, if his name popped up right now, I knew I was gon’ answer before the first ring finished.

That was the part that scared me. Not lovin’ him ‘cause I had already accepted that. What scared me was how far I had let myself fall with no net under me.

Renza was hurt, and I had helped put him there. I could admit that now without tryna clean it up in my head. I had made choices. I said yes to a life that looked safe while the nigga I really loved was somewhere buyin’ rings, lookin’ at houses and thinkin’ I was gon’ choose him. I ain’t know how to fix that. I ain’t know if it could be fixed. All I knew was I had come to Trill-Land ready to fight for him, and he never stepped in the ring with me.

I took another sip and swallowed around the lump in my throat.

My gate was only a few feet away, and the screen above it already had Greystone City listed in bright letters. Seein’ it made my chest sink. I was goin’ back to my job, my apartment, my normal streets, my unanswered questions and a fiancé I couldn’t keep lookin’ in the face while feelin’ this torn up over another man.

I was goin’ back with more bags than I came with, but somehow, I felt emptier.

The announcement for my flight came over the speaker, and people started gettin’ up around me. I sat here for a few seconds longer with my hand still around my glass, tryna make my body move before my heart could talk me into stayin’. But stayin’ wouldn’t make him come. Callin’ wouldn’t make him answer. Beggin’ wouldn’t make him ready to hear me, so I finished my drink, grabbed my purse and stood up.

When I got in line to board, I looked back once like Trill-Land itself might give me a sign. There was nothin’ behind me but people, chairs, luggage and the bar I had just left. There wasn’t no Renza walkin’ through the airport with that hard look on his face. It was just me…

So, I handed the lady my boardin’ pass, walked down the bridge and carried all that hurt with me.

Trill-Land

I had been movin’ around all day, and by the time the sun started droppin’ behind the buildin’s in Drahma Town, my body felt like I had been runnin’ from sleep, smoke and my own damn mind for too many days in a row.

The gun shop had been busy since the mornin’. Niggas was comin’ in askin’ about customs, permits, new attachments and everything else they could think of, and for once, I was glad for it.

Business kept my hands full. It kept my phone face down on my desk. It kept me from sittin’ somewhere starin’ at a wall like I ain’t have shit else to do but think about a woman who had finally got on a plane and left this island alone.

Of course, I got that call last night, and I ain’t ask too many questions when Pressure told me. All he said was she was gone, and all I said back was, “Bet.” That was all I had in me, even though the word felt too small for what moved through my chest when I heard it.

Relief was the first thing I felt, and that pissed me off a lil’ ‘cause relief wasn’t supposed to feel this heavy.

I had spent damn near two weeks in a hotel ‘cause I couldn’t go home and smell her in the hallway. I couldn’t go home and risk seein’ her sittin’ in Pluto’s kitchen, holdin’ our god baby, talkin’ soft, or lookin’ up at me with them eyes she knew used to make me forget every smart thought I ever had. I couldn’t do it. I knew myself too good. I knew if I got close enough, that mad shit I had been holdin’ on to would start fightin’ with everything else in me, and I ain’t trust which side would win.

So I stayed gone…

At first, the hotel felt like space. I checked in, ordered food, took a shower and told myself I was good. I had peace. I had a bed nobody had touched while I was in it and a room nobody knew about except my people.

The first few nights, I slept with the TV on and my gun on the nightstand. I woke up every couple hours anyway, reachin’ for my phone like a dumb ass before I remembered I ain’t wanna answer nobody who had her name attached to ‘em.

By the third fifth day, the hotel started feelin’ like I was hidin’ from my own life.

I had clothes hangin’ over chairs, shoes lined by the wall, receipts in the trash and a room service tray sittin’ outside the door damn near every mornin’ ‘cause I ain’t feel like walkin’ out to eat.

I still handled my business, still moved around with Blaq when I needed to and still answered when Pressure or Kay’Lo called. I just ain’t go home, and that was the part everybody knew without sayin’ too much about it.

The hotel staff knew my face by the end of the week. The woman at the front desk stopped askin’ if I needed anything ‘cause I always told her no. The nigga who brought the food up knocked two times and left that shit by the door unless I opened it and housekeepin’ came when I was gone.

I ain’t never call Sha’Nelle back. Hell, she had called enough for both of us.

Sometimes the phone would stop and start right back up. Sometimes it would stop for hours before another call came through. I ain’t listen to the voicemails. I couldn’t. A nigga had to know where to stop himself, and I already knew if I sat there lettin’ her voice crawl through my phone every night, I was gon’ end up doin’ somethin’ stupid.

So I deleted some of ’em. I let others sit there. Then the voicemail filled up, and after that, the calls just came with nowhere to land. That should’ve made it easier, but it ain’t.

I woke up already knowin’ Sha’Nelle was gone, and that made the whole day feel strange before I even got out the bed.

I showered in the hotel, got dressed, packed all my shit, and stood there for a minute lookin’ around the room like I was tired of seein’ it.

After bein’ out all day, I rode through Trill-Land with the windows cracked and a blunt burnin’ slow between my fingers, lettin’ shit move around me while I tried to decide if I was really goin’ home or if I was about to pull back up to that hotel for one more night.