“Do you think I’m wrong?” I questioned.
“I can’t tell you how to feel,” Cicely answered.
“What would you do?” I asked, watching her put my clothes in the bathroom hamper.
“I would take my space and clear my head. At the same time, I wouldn’t let misdirected
hurt and pain dictate who I choose to love,” Cicely said.
“Thank you, Cicely.”
“For what?”
“For being a friend,” I said.
“You’re welcome, baby. Now eat so my little munchkin can grow big and healthy,”
Cicely teased, rubbing me on the shoulder.
She walked out of the room, and I continued scrolling from channel to channel and eating
when my phone vibrated. I picked it up off the nightstand and saw a group text message from
Essence and Reece.
Essence: How are you?
Me: Hey, y’all. I’m fine.
Reece: Are you sure?
Me: Yes,
