Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “All I know is that this morning, the kid and her went to church with tons of bags of toys.”
Shock hit me.
Zuri, you’re still doing Toys for Tots, wrapping up gifts and getting ready to deliver them to needy families.
“However, she might have come back during my lunch. I get an hour and Sammy watches the door then.”
“Alright.” I nodded. “What floor is she on?”
“Seventh.” He watched Anthony talk on the phone. “Her spot is 7D.”
Anthony headed back over, put his phone up, and saluted playfully. “Operation Toy Grab is a go. Your Game X is on the way. He’ll even have it wrapped up for your kid.”
“No need for wrapping paper.” The doorman waved his hand. “It’s for me to play.”
Anthony scowled. “What the fuck? What are you going to do for your kid this Christmas?”
He shrugged. “I’ll figure out something.”
“You fucking piece of shit—”
“Never mind that.” I watched the doorman. “Is Zuri with anyone? Boyfriend? Husband? Guy that swings by at night?”
He shrugged again. “I’m just here during the day, but I have never seen a man go in her condo, not even her father.”
That didn’t mean she wasn’t seeing anyone, but at least it leaned toward it.
I gazed at the elevators. “I’m going up there. My friend here will hang out with you until your gaming system comes.”
“You’re going up?” The doorman shook his head. “Hey, fella. I don’t know about that.”
Anthony jumped in, “Focus on the Game X and the fact that you will be able to walk this Christmas.”
The doorman widened his eyes.
Anthony dove his hand back in his pocket and handed the doorman the money. “And give this to your ex-wife. And don’t think you can fuck with me on this. I got a way to find out. If she doesn’t get it, I’ll be at your doorstep.”
I entered the lobby.
Classical music hit my ears.
My nerves flared.
When I made it to the elevator, I pressed the button.
Once the elevator arrived, I stepped on and pushed for the seventh floor—Zuri’s floor.
Fuck. What am I going up there to do? Did Zuri move on? What the hell do I think I’m going to find up there?
The elevator doors closed, and I ascended to a future that was uncertain.
Chapter 8
Figuring It Out
The elevator ride was quiet, aside from the soft hum of machinery.
My hands trembled at my side. The numbers on the elevator panel climbed agonizingly slow, echoing the anxious climb of my own thoughts.
What the fuck am I going to say to her?
Scared, I touched my hair and wondered if I should take my strands out of the ponytail or keep it in.
Zuri always preferred my hair loose, and liked the way it framed my face. Maybe, just maybe, seeing me that way could soften the blow of my sudden reappearance.
With a swift tug, I pulled the band from my hair, letting the strands cascade around my face. The familiar weight of it settling over my shoulders brought a fleeting sense of vulnerability.
I felt exposed, more human somehow.
There I was, standing on the elevator, hair down, heart racing, a mix of nostalgia and dread washing over me. It seemed almost laughable that I was focusing on my hair at a time like this. I was about to confront my past, to face the woman I had loved and the child I had never known.
And here I was, worried about my fucking appearance.
Get it together.
But it wasn’t just about the hair. It was about what it represented—a connection to a time when things were simpler, when Zuri and I were just two people in love, unburdened by the stress of this world and the choices I had made.
Would Zuri even recognize me? Would the man she once loved still exist in her eyes, or had I become just a ghost of the past?
Taking a deep breath, I tried to push these thoughts aside.
There was no use in guessing.
The elevator stopped at the seventh floor, and the doors opened with a gentle hiss.
Holy fuck. What’s going to happen?
Stepping out into the corridor, I was greeted by an air of understated luxury. The plush carpet muted my steps, and the walls were adorned with art that probably cost more than a year’s rent in Zuri’s old neighborhood. The corridor was eerily quiet, as if the whole floor were holding its breath.
Zuri’s condo, 7D, was just a short walk down the hall. Its door, polished and unassuming, was no different from the others.
Yet, behind it lay answers to questions. It felt like knocking on the door of destiny itself, a door that held behind it the potential for reconciliation, for healing, or perhaps for more heartache.
I paused before the door, my hand hovering over the dark wood.
This was it.
The moment of truth.
My knock sounded more like a plea than a greeting, it echoed throughout the hallway and boomed in my chest.