"Home"
Twenty-six-year-old Huey Freeman arrived at his late grandfather's garage, a mix of anxiety and determination coursing through him. He quickly exited his car, gathered his belongings, and approached the front door without bothering to knock, as he knew no one was inside. His brother Riley and sister-in-law Cindy had finally settled into their lives after the passing of Grandad some time ago, raising their three children in the family home. Huey had never expected that Riley would cultivate a stronger marriage than his own; nevertheless, he found himself filled with immense pride for his brother's accomplishments.
The moment he opened the door, he let his suitcases fall to the floor and breathed in the familiar scents of cinnamon and sandalwood. Seven years had passed, yet home still appeared as beautiful as he remembered. It was immaculate, orderly, and exuded a sense of comfort. The hardwood floors retained their rich, defined luster. The antique furniture gleamed with polish, while the walls were adorned with rare paintings and vintage carvings. The entire house radiated warmth but felt hauntingly empty. It lacked one crucial element—life itself. As he wandered through the rooms, a wave of nausea washed over him; every corner echoed memories of his Grandad, his brother, and most poignantly, her.
He had been married for eight years, but he didn't want to think about her now; he had come here to find solace, not to increase his stress. His mind needed to be at peace if he was going to finish his novel. His publisher had granted him an extension due to the pending divorce settlement, and he was determined not to waste time dwelling on his frustrations.
Huey gazed into the captivating brown eyes of his best friend, who also happened to be his stunning wife. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one he had always wanted. Now, however, she sat across from him with her attorney at her side, her expression as icy as a winter's day. She had never been one to display overt emotions, and while he would never wish for her to break down in tears, he was taken aback by how little she seemed to care.
"My client seeks possession of the house to which she is entitled; everything else may be retained by Mr. Freeman," her attorney stated matter-of-factly as she slid the paperwork across the table.
Huey's attorney leaned in and whispered, "I don't believe it can get any better than this. All she desires is the house. You can retain your cars and your money." Huey raised his hand to silence him and shook his head in disapproval.
"This is absurd."
"Nicole," Huey called out to her, but she was preoccupied, whispering to her attorney who was diligently jotting down notes on her notepad. He called her name once more, yet again, she disregarded him.
"Nicole!" he exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table, which immediately drew the attention of everyone present. Nicole remained unfazed by his outburst. Leaning slightly toward her attorney, she whispered something that prompted her attorney to nod and rise from her seat.
"Given that your client appears to be struggling with controlling his temper," she began, addressing Mr. Angelo directly, "my client has decided to postpone this meeting. In other words, Mr. Angelo, your client has one month to sign the necessary papers. Should he fail to do so, my client will have no choice but to escalate this matter to court, where the consequences could result in your client losing everything." Her tone was firm and laced with an unmistakable threat.
She gathered her documents and placed them neatly into her briefcase. Adjusting her suit jacket, she extended her hand to Nicole with a confident smile. "I'll give you a call on Monday, Mrs. Freeman," she said, her expression hinting at something more.
"Thank you, Mrs. Lopez," Nicole replied, reciprocating the handshake. After a moment, the middle-aged woman shifted her gaze toward Huey and his attorney before pivoting on her heel to leave.
"Have a good day; hopefully, we won't see you two in court," she remarked over her shoulder as she walked away. Huey's attorney rose from his seat and gently tapped his shoulder, advising him to consider the favorable deal presented. After exchanging farewells, he departed, leaving Huey and Nicole alone in the room.
Which was exactly what he wanted.
"Nicole, please listen to me," Huey implored, gently grasping her hands. "We can work this out. We could go to marriage counseling or do whatever it takes to mend our relationship. I am willing to do anything you need me to do," he pleaded with a sense of urgency.
Nicole exhaled sharply, pulling her hands away from his grasp. "That's just it," she replied awkwardly as she rose to her feet. "There's nothing you can do to fix what we have. As cliché as it may sound, it's not you; it's me," she asserted.
"I'm not happy anymore, Huey, and I want you to know that it isn't your fault. You have remained unchanged; you are still the boy I had the biggest crush on during my childhood. You are still the man I fell in love with, but I am the one who has changed," she expressed, revealing her innermost feelings.
"We were once so in sync. We shared a remarkable similarity in our thoughts, hobbies, and interests. Our connection was profound because we truly understood one another, it felt comfortable to love someone who comprehended me so completely. Like you, I experienced significant losses during my childhood, which is why we resonated with each other so deeply. I believed we had an unbreakable bond; however, I now realize that I was mistaken," she reflected.
"The reason our marriage feels different is that I am weary of the monotony. Each morning, I awaken to a routine so familiar that it has become predictable. This predictability has left me feeling despondent; I long for the unknown, for each day to hold its own surprises. I crave excitement, adventure, and the opportunity to explore the world," she declared passionately.
Huey remained with his arms crossed, contemplating her words. "So you seek excitement? You desire an adventure? Alright then! We can start going out more often. If a vacation is what you believe will mend this rift, then I am willing to do whatever it takes," he replied gently, stroking her arms in a gesture of reassurance.
Nicole closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Huey, I truly appreciate your efforts, but I don't want you to change just to make me happy," she said, conveying her gratitude. "You are perfectly fine as you are, and you deserve someone who will embrace you for who you are. Unfortunately, that person can no longer be me," she added, her eyes filled with pity. Her words pierced through him like a knife as she continued.
She stepped back to create some distance between them. "When I mentioned wanting something different, I also meant that I desire someone different—someone from whom I can learn new things; someone who can introduce me to experiences I've never encountered before; someone who is the opposite of who I am," she clarified.
Huey scoffed bitterly, muttering "typical" as he shook his head in disbelief. "So, there's someone else?" he shouted, his voice laced with fury.
"No, no, of course not! You know I would never cheat on you," she protested, her gaze shifting away. "But I did run into someone," she admitted reluctantly.
"Who is he?" he demanded, his fists clenched tightly.
"It doesn't matter," she grimaced in response.
"Who is he?" Huey barked.
"His name is Victor," she explained. "I met him the day my car broke down. I couldn't reach you, and I was in such distress!" Her expression softened as she continued, "He was driving his pickup truck when he spotted me stranded. He kindly offered me a lift, and it turned out that he had extensive knowledge about cars." A smile crept onto her face as she reminisced about him. "He replaced my tires for me, and when I offered to pay him, he graciously declined. Instead, he asked if he could take me to lunch," she said, feeling butterflies in her stomach.
"I accepted his offer, and we had lunch," she acknowledged. "We conversed a lot." Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she continued, "We didn't have much in common, but that's what attracted me to him. Unlike me, he was gentle, funny, and adventurous. He owned a ship and traveled to different islands." A grin spread across her face. "When I was with him, I felt free. I felt like a completely different person. I laughed—I actually laughed!" She chuckled softly. "I never imagined I could laugh so much, and you know how much I dislike laughing," she added with another chuckle.
"Wow... Opposites attract, huh?" Huey remarked, his jaw tightening."so you're really going to leave me for a mechanic nigga with a ship?" He said, his accent coming out.
"No! He isn't the reason," she shouted, her frustration palpable. "After we had lunch, I made it clear that I was married, and I never saw him again," she justified. "But ever since that day, I've felt different. The emotions I experienced when I was with him were unlike anything I'd ever felt before." She spoke with a sense of emotional exhaustion. "It was something fresh and exhilarating, and I truly enjoyed that feeling," she elaborated.
"Let me guess," Huey interjected, raising his hands in exaggerated air quotes. "You want to go out and explore so you can find someone who can give you that 'feeling' again."
" Well, yes!" she exclaimed, licking her lips. "But Huey, please don't hold any bitterness towards me. I truly wish for us to avoid any animosity. I would still like to maintain our friendship," she suggested.
Huey scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Wow," he said, momentarily at a loss for words.
"Or not," Nicole replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "We don't have to define our relationship if that's what you prefer, but nothing is stopping me from living my life." She flipped her hair and placed her hands on her hips as she approached him. "If I want to enjoy my life, I will savor every moment of it, whether you approve or not," she declared through gritted teeth.
" All I require from you," she said, jabbing her finger into his chest, "is your signature on the divorce papers, and you won't hear from me again!" With that, she turned sharply on her heel and strode away.
Huey hurried after her. "I can't believe you're willing to throw away eight years! Eight years of marriage! All because you suddenly feel bored!" he shouted in disbelief.
Nicole ignored him as she climbed into her car. Huey rushed to her side and pressed his hands against the window, desperate for a response.
We have known each other since middle school, Nicole. How could you betray me like this? I devoted myself entirely to you. I worked tirelessly to provide you with everything you ever desired. Not once did I look at another woman because my love for you is unwavering; you are the only one I want. It didn't matter how difficult life became; as long as I had you by my side, I felt fulfilled." He expressed his deep affection for her.
"Yet, here you are, drawn to another man," he continued, a mocking tone creeping into his voice. "An adventurous, funny nigga with a boat! Suddenly, you're seeking something fresh and exhilarating?" He scoffed derisively. "That's truly cold-hearted, Nicole!" he shouted.
Nicole rolled down her window and said, "Huey, I'm truly sorry, okay?" as she started her car.
"You're not sorry. You're nothing but a selfish bitch. That's what you are!" Huey hissed back at her.
In response, she rolled up her windows, attempting to trap his fingers in the process; however, he quickly moved them out of harm's way.
"I don't have time for this nonsense! Let me be a selfish bitch while you act like a grown ass man and get those damn papers signed by the end of the month!" she shouted loudly enough for him to hear, adjusting her seatbelt with determination.
"I'm not signing shit!" Huey growled, his voice low and menacing. "Tell Lawyer Lopez to shove it where the sun doesn't shine!" He pounded on her window with frustration.
"Fine! I'll see you in court, you asshole!" she retorted sharply before speeding away. Huey stood there, watching as his wife drove off into the distance. Her words reverberated in his mind, and for the first time, he felt as though his heart had been irrevocably shattered.
The agonizing pain he felt was a constant presence in his life, intensifying with each passing day. Following that fateful encounter, he reached out to her multiple times in an attempt to apologize, yet she persistently ignored his calls. While he grappled with his heartache, she seemed to be reveling in a new chapter of her life—drinking, partying, and engaging in both speed dating and blind dating. The transformation was stark; she was no longer the woman he had fallen deeply in love with. Ironically, despite this change, his desire for her remained unwavering.
As was his routine, he logged onto social media to check her updates. The first thing that caught his eye was a change in her relationship status—it now read "single." Although he had never been one to concern himself with such matters due to his disinterest in social media, this revelation still stirred something within him. He continued scrolling through her posts until he stumbled upon a recent selfie of her clad in a striking red swimsuit. She looked absolutely breathtaking; her flawless golden-brown complexion complemented by deep-set brown eyes, full lips, and cascading dark curly hair.
"Pause. Is that a nose ring?" he thought as he zoomed in on the image. He shook his head in disapproval; this was certainly not the Nicole he remembered. He zoomed out and continued scrolling to view her most recent post. Her skin radiated a natural glow, and the caption read: "I never knew what I was missing until you showed me. Thank you for this experience! This wonderful adventure! I finally feel free!" His eyes widened when he noticed the name she tagged: Victor_Libieran_pride.
Feeling his blood boil, he clicked on the profile, and as soon as he did, the first thing that caught his eye was a recent picture of Nicole on a boat, holding hands with a medium-height, dark-skinned man—Victor.
It was not the act of holding hands that took him by surprise; rather, it was the radiant smile illuminating her face. She appeared genuinely happy—happier than he had ever witnessed her before. Such a joyful expression had never graced her features during their time together, and this realization struck him deeply, leaving him feeling utterly devastated.
Overwhelmed with frustration, he violently overturned the table, causing his laptop to crash to the floor. A curse escaped his lips as he recognized that he had neglected to save his document containing the first chapter of his novel, rendering all his hard work futile.
Ain't that a bitch
Wait, he almost forgot about the autosave setting. He breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the laptop. Just his luck—the laptop was broken. It wouldn't turn on, and the screen was cracked.
"Son of a bitch!"
He shouted in frustration and hurled the laptop across the room. Overcome with anger, he felt the urge to smoke. Although it was unusual for him to be a smoker, cigarettes had become his solace since he and Nicole had been experiencing marital problems.
Retrieving a cigarette from his jacket pocket, he stepped out onto the patio. As he lit his cigarette, he noticed a familiar face with dark skin and dreadlocks—Michael Caesar.
"Sup, Hue!" Caesar greeted with a smile. "Long time no see," he said, offering a fist bump.
"Sup?" Huey said, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his cigarette. "What brings you here?" he inquired.
"Damn, son! Is it like that? I thought we were cool, man!" Caesar replied, feigning a look of hurt.
Huey shot him a glance, prompting Caesar to laugh. "Man, you need to lighten up! That's why I decided to bring this," he said, pulling a six-pack of beer from his backpack.
"I'm good; I don't drink," Huey declined the offer.
"You don't smoke either, but look at you now," Caesar reminded him with a smirk.
"Whatever," Huey muttered, taking another puff from his cigarette.
Caesar shook his head and opened a can of beer as he settled onto the steps. "So, have you spoken to you-know-who?" he inquired, taking a sip of his drink.
Huey paused for a moment before responding. "She won't answer any of my calls, so whatever," he replied dismissively. Yet, beneath his nonchalance, he felt a pang of concern. Just as Caesar was about to interject, Huey continued.
"I can't believe she sat there and lied to my face, claiming nothing was happening. It turns out she's been going on cruises with that nigga!" he exclaimed angrily.
"Oh yeah, I saw that too," Caesar acknowledged. "Bro, trust me, that won't last. She's going to get tired of him, and when she does, she'll come crawling back to you." He offered this reassurance with a sense of camaraderie.
"I honestly doubt that," Huey mumbled, grabbing a can of beer as he settled beside Ceaser.
The two engaged in a conversation about Ceaser's life. He shared that he was enjoying the single life and had no intention of pursuing anything serious. Huey expressed his understanding and advised him to concentrate on his career as a sports radio host.
Suddenly, they heard a dog bark and looked up to see a large golden retriever. However, it was not the dog that captured their attention; it was its owner. A short, curvy woman with a butterscotch skin tone and strawberry-blonde curls strolled by, clad in a pink lace robe and sunglasses.
Although her face was partially obscured, her attractiveness was undeniable.
"Damn! Bruh, are you seeing this?" Ceaser exclaimed, nudging Huey with excitement as the woman bent over to retrieve her mail. Ceaser let out a whistle at the sight of her figure accentuated by the pink panties visible beneath her robe.
Huey licked his lips; she looked good—too good, in fact—but a woman like that was never his type. How could she be so comfortable going out in broad daylight, clad only in a lingerie robe? She was clearly aware of her allure, flaunting her assets for any man to see.
Once the woman had the mail in her hand, she turned and looked directly in their direction.
"Hey," Caesar grinned and gave her a short wave, but she tugged on her dog's leash and retreated to her house as if she hadn't seen them at all.
"Damn, couldn't even get a simple hello," Caesar muttered as he returned to his spot on the porch.
"What did you expect from a stuck-up white girl with a tan and butt implants?" Huey replied casually.
"Doubt she's white; with that hair, she might be Hispanic, but definitely not white," Caesar remarked, nodding thoughtfully. "Or perhaps she's mixed with—"
"Or maybe I just don't care," Huey interjected, taking another puff from his cigarette.
"Do you think she has a boyfriend?" Caesar asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
Huey let out a sigh of annoyance.
"Once again, I really don't care," he replied nonchalantly.
"No, seriously! I think she could be the one," Caesar said in a teasing manner.
"Well, go ahead and knock yourself out," Huey said as he extinguished his cigarette. "Why not talk to her?" he suggested.
"I was talking about you," Caesar remarked, eliciting an eye roll from Huey.
"Nah, hear me out," he continued, placing a reassuring arm on Huey's shoulder. "If Nicole finds out you're with another woman, she'll definitely come crawling back," he added, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Nah, I'm good," Huey replied, shaking his head in disapproval. "Listen, I'm going to head back inside. There are some things I need to take care of," he said, deftly changing the subject. While he appreciated that his friend meant well, Huey was never the type to engage in such antics. He gave Caesar a light dab on the shoulder.
"No problem, Hue. I'll holler at you tomorrow. Keep the beer; just don't get carried away," Caesar joked as he made his way to his car.
Huey nodded and took the beer inside with him, fully aware that he would likely need it later.
After hours spent troubleshooting his laptop, he finally managed to complete a chapter. Just as he was about to add a few crucial points, the laptop suddenly shut down.
"Just my luck," he thought bitterly. He plugged in his charger, only to discover that it was nonfunctional as well. "Damn it!" he exclaimed in frustration. Rummaging through his suitcase, he hoped to find a spare charger; however, he recalled that he had given that spare to Nicole months ago.
Why did everything seem to remind him of her?
He shook his head, forcing himself to push thoughts of her aside. He needed to locate another charger so he could return to his work. Grabbing his flashlight, he began searching the house. Upon reaching the attic, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. This attic held the memories of his entire childhood: the first time he and Riley moved in with their grandfather, the beginning of middle school, and most significantly, the day he met Nicole and shared their first kiss.
Huey was perched on the roof, engrossed in his favorite novel, The Ballot or the Bullet by Malcolm X. As he turned a page, his attention was suddenly drawn to a moving truck that had just parked across the street from his house. "Probably another affluent white family," he mused to himself. Just then, a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.
"Yo Huey!" He glanced over and spotted his best friend Cairo waving enthusiastically at him.
Squinting against the sunlight, Huey thought, "Cairo? What is he doing here?" Eager to reconnect, he made his way down to greet him.
"Cairo! What are you doing here?" he asked, a note of excitement creeping into his voice. The recent move from Chicago to Maryland had left him feeling despondent; not only was he surrounded by what he perceived as racist suburbanites, but he also found himself separated from the only friend he had ever known—Cairo Johnson.
"Is that really how you greet your best friend?" Cairo teased, a playful smile on his face as they embraced in a brotherly hug. "Remember when I told you my mom had a new boyfriend?" he continued, his tone shifting to one of disappointment. "Well, they're married now."
Huey responded with genuine sympathy, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He was already aware of the complicated dynamics between Cairo and his mother's romantic interests. Back in Chicago, his mother had gone through numerous boyfriends, and Huey never imagined she would choose to settle down with any of them.
"Nah, it's cool," Cairo replied, accepting the reality of the situation. "I've come to terms with it," he added resolutely. As Huey observed Cairo's mother and her new husband unloading boxes into the house, he felt an urge to speak up. However, she caught his eye first and flashed him a warm smile before calling out something that drew the attention of another person nearby.
It was a girl about his age. She had rich brown skin adorned with long, curly dark hair and possessed the most captivating brown eyes he had ever encountered.
"Who is that?" Huey inquired, raising his eyebrows in curiosity.
"Oh, that's my stepsister," he replied. "Oh no, where are my manners?" He exclaimed, smacking his palm against his forehead. "Allow me to introduce you two," he added cheerfully.
"Oh no, it's fine," Huey began to say, but Cairo interrupted with a shout, "Hey Nikki! Come over here! There's someone I need you to meet!" The girl rolled her eyes and approached them.
"Cairo, I've told you not to call me that," she said in an exasperated tone. "It's Nicole, remember?" she added while folding her arms.
"Whatever. It's all the same," Cairo remarked. "This is Huey Freeman. Remember I mentioned him? We go way back," he clarified.
Nicole surveyed Huey with evident disdain. "I'm Nicole Brown," she stated flatly. "Nice to meet you," she added, her tone sharp and unwelcoming.
"Likewise," Huey replied, keeping his hands tucked in his pockets.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, unlike Cairo, I'm not too lazy to unpack my own things," she retorted before turning to leave.
Cairo shook his head and chuckled lightly. "Huey said he'd be happy to help," he suggested.
She paused and turned back. "You don't say?" she inquired, directing her gaze at Huey.
"Sure, why not?" he replied, casting a glance at Cairo. In response, Cairo merely shrugged his shoulders.
With a casual tone, she remarked, "Knock yourself out. You can start with those boxes," gesturing toward a large container filled with books. She initially doubted his ability to manage the weight, but to her astonishment, he effortlessly carried the entire box to her room without any difficulty.
As they unpacked her belongings together, he found himself learning a great deal about her. To his surprise, he realized that they shared numerous interests and experiences.
"I apologize for my behavior earlier," she said as she settled onto her bed. He looked at her in confusion. "I was quite rude to you," she confessed.
"It's fine," he said, seemingly unfazed.
"No, it's not fine," she replied, her gaze fixed on him with intensity. "I had no right to treat you that way," she continued, her voice tinged with frustration. "I just wasn't ready to move on," she sighed deeply as he settled beside her, listening attentively to her outpouring of emotions.
"My mother passed away when I was five years old. She died from a drug overdose," she revealed. "My father had to raise me alone. We faced numerous struggles, but we always made the best of our situation. We were incredibly close," she said, her tone shifting to one of anger. "Then he met her—Cairo's mother. Don't get me wrong; she's a good person, and my dad is genuinely happier when she's around," she admitted reluctantly.
"Cairo is great too; he feels like the brother I never had. But I just..." She inhaled deeply, the weight of her feelings evident in her expression. "I hate change," she confessed in exasperation. "I want my dad back. I want my old life back. I want to go back to Chicago," she exclaimed passionately.
"I felt the same way," Huey shared quietly. "When my parents died, none of our family wanted us." He paused for a moment before continuing, "They didn't want to take on two rebellious kids from Chicago," he stated matter-of-factly, his demeanor unaffected by the painful memories.
"My grandfather was the only one who would take us," he explained. "When I moved here, I felt a surge of anger. I longed for my old life—the familiarity of my hometown, the companionship of my friends, and the presence of my parents," he said, locking his gaze with hers. "And it was all taken away in an instant, all because of a bullet," he continued.
"How did you manage to overcome it?" she asked gently, her fingers brushing against his hand. He felt a shiver run through him at her touch.
"If you can't fly, then run; if you can't run, then walk; if you can't walk, then crawl. But whatever you do, you must keep moving forward," he quoted.
"That's Martin Luther King Jr.," she said with pride.
"In essence, I just kept pushing ahead because deep down, I knew I had a plan," he explained.
" And what plan do you have in mind?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"I'm going to save money and finish high school. Once I graduate, I'm getting out of here for good," he replied with unwavering determination.
"Where do you intend to go?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow.
"Back home," he said simply, "to Chicago."
"I'm coming with you," she declared confidently. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could find the words, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his.
A rush of excitement surged through him—a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before. Caught off guard, he found himself at a loss for words. His spine tingled as he gazed into her beautiful eyes, which had softened with affection, and at her full lips that sent shivers down his back.
He was taken by surprise, feeling an overwhelming sensation that he could only describe as love at first sight.
"Huey, I'm sorry," she began to say, but her words were cut short as his lips pressed firmly against hers.
As the kiss deepened, their hands found each other, exploring the moment. After what felt like an eternity, Huey reluctantly pulled away. He understood the importance of restraint; they had just met and were both only thirteen.
He knew better.
"Sorry," they both uttered simultaneously. "That can never happen again," he stated with a serious demeanor.
"Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking," she replied, nodding in agreement.
"It's okay," he reassured her. "Just don't mention this."
"Trust me, I will never mention this," she said earnestly. "Friends?" She extended her hand for a shake.
"Friends," he said, shaking her hand.
From that day forward, they became the best of friends. There was hardly a moment when they were apart. Initially, their relationship was strictly platonic; however, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to conceal their growing feelings for one another. As they matured, both mentally and physically, the complexities of their relationship intensified. It was not until they turned sixteen that they finally made their feelings official.
Huey gazed at the photograph of himself and Nicole, which also featured Cairo and his then-girlfriend. He recalled that day vividly; it marked the moment he officially asked Nicole to be his girlfriend. They had both felt a sense of obligation to attend the school dance, despite their initial reluctance. However, that evening turned out to be one of the most memorable days of his life.
Yet, beneath this joyful memory lay a deep-seated sorrow. Huey empathized with Nicole's feelings when she first relocated to Woodcrest; he longed for the simplicity of their earlier days and yearned for the life he once knew. As he reflected on these emotions, he realized he had become lost in his thoughts. Determined to regain focus, he gathered his essentials, including the cherished photograph, and made his way downstairs. Once there, he approached his laptop and tested an old charger—much to his relief, it functioned perfectly.
Feeling overwhelmed, he decided to take a walk. As he made his way up the hill, he passed by the familiar oak tree and felt an urge to retreat there. It had been years since he last visited this spot, he thought. He sat down on the grass and leaned his head against the sturdy trunk of the tree, allowing himself to rest his eyes. A flood of cherished memories washed over him, with one in particular standing out: the moment when Nicole had engraved their initials into the bark of the tree. He turned to search for that special spot where she had carved
"H & N," and a smile spread across his face at the sight.
Feeling a surge of optimism, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the initials before sending it to Nicole. He waited eagerly for her response and noticed that she had seen the picture; however, she did not reply. In an attempt to reach her, he tried calling but was met with her voicemail greeting. Unfortunately, he could not leave a message because her voicemail box was full.
He attempted to text her once more; however, this time he noticed that his message had not been delivered. This could only mean one thing: he had been blocked. The realization brought back memories of the times when Nicole would stay out late while he incessantly called her, only to have her decline each call. In retrospect, it was likely that she had been with Victor during those nights.
"Argh!" he shouted in frustration, slamming his phone against the sturdy oak tree, resulting in a cracked screen. How could she do this to him? He found it hard to believe that she would so easily discard fourteen years of their relationship. That's how long he had known her, and now, for the first time,
She felt like a stranger.
As he made his way back home, he caught sight of the same girl from across the street who was calling out from her lawn.
"Rocky!" she cried out desperately.
" Rocky! Please come back!" she whimpered, her voice trembling with fear. Normally, he would have kept to himself, but the distress evident in her body language compelled him to approach. She appeared deeply worried, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, a clear indication that she was cold and frightened.
"What am I doing?" he murmured, stepping closer to her. The sound of his footsteps crunching on the wet grass echoed in the tense silence.
"Who's there?" she gasped, reaching out to touch her surroundings in a desperate attempt to locate the source of the voice.
"Excuse me, miss?" Huey called out, projecting his voice so she could hear him clearly.
"Please! Get away from me!" she pleaded, slowly backing away while extending her hands defensively in front of her.
"Do you need help?" Huey asked gently, trying to reassure her.
"Go away, please!" she implored again, counting her steps backward as if trying to distance herself from the perceived threat.
She was aware that in just five steps she would reach her porch; however, to her dismay, she inadvertently took more steps than intended, causing her count to be inaccurate. Unbeknownst to her, a dog toy lay behind her, leading to her stumbling over it and falling hard onto the damp grass.
"Ah," she groaned as she sat up. The sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears. Her body throbbed with pain, but the sharp ache radiating from her left leg was particularly pronounced. Her ankle pulsed with discomfort, rendering it immobile.
Huey hurried to her side. "Let me help," he said urgently.
She nodded her head, pleading softly, "Please." "I'm blind," she revealed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I can't move my foot; it hurts," she whimpered. He knelt to examine her ankle, noting its redness and swelling, with a hint of purple beginning to emerge amidst the inflamed skin.
"It appears that you've sprained your ankle," he explained gently. "I'll need to carry you inside so I can tend to it properly," he added, his tone patient and reassuring. "Is that alright with you, Miss?"
His voice was soothing and calm, instilling a sense of trust within her. "Yes, that's alright," she replied, granting him her consent. She felt herself being lifted as he scooped her up effortlessly. A wave of humiliation washed over her as she became aware of the wet mud clinging to her clothes. Burying her face in his chest for comfort, she inhaled deeply.
He smelled good, she thought to herself.
He decided to take her to his home, knowing that he had a first aid kit stored in his suitcase. "I'll be right back," he assured her as he gently positioned her on the couch, placing a pillow beneath her foot to elevate it.
"I'm going to retrieve my first aid kit," he explained. The scent in the air was distinctly different from what she was accustomed to; it carried a warm aroma of apple cinnamon. He returned shortly with the first aid kit and an ice pack in hand. Sitting beside her, he carefully touched the top of her ankle, prompting a soft, sharp hiss of discomfort from her.
"Just relax," he said soothingly as he began to wrap her foot with a bandage.
"What's your name, sir?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Huey Freeman," he said, focusing on her ankle.
"Huey Freeman," she echoed, attempting to visualize his face. From the tone of his voice, she sensed kindness. The strength of his chest muscles, evident when he carried her, indicated physical power. The manner in which he articulated his thoughts revealed intelligence.
"And your name is?" he asked.
"Jazmine with a Z," she replied. "Jazmine DuBios," she added politely.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers and was immediately captivated by her distinctive beauty. Her olive skin appeared smooth and radiant. Her lips were soft and full. She had thick, curly strawberry-blonde hair that framed her face beautifully; however, it was her eyes that truly captured attention—wide and angelic green eyes that sparkled with life.
She was stunning.
"You're all set," he concluded, handing her the ice pack and gently guiding her hand to the swollen area. She winced, exclaiming, "Ohhh, that's so cold!"
"I know it feels that way, but you need to reduce the swelling," he replied as he began putting away the first aid kit. "Can I get you something to drink?" he offered.
"No, thank you," she replied politely. "I think I should head back home now, if you don't mind." She still felt self-conscious about being covered in mud.
"Not a problem at all," he said as he lifted her off the couch.
She giggled, letting out a small snort as nervous laughter escaped her lips. "You're so strong," she remarked, feeling her cheeks flush with warmth. She often found that when she laughed too hard, she sounded like a pig.
"You're not heavy," he replied, eliciting a laugh from her that was punctuated by an embarrassed snort as she instinctively covered her nose.
He gently carried her into her home. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was enveloped by the soothing scents of lavender and sweet orange. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, with an impeccable sense of organization evident throughout the space. Her house was clearly designed with accessibility in mind; the lighting was bright, and the walls showcased a harmonious blend of contrasting colors.
Each room featured safe flooring and thoughtfully textured furniture to enhance tactile navigation. Notably, she had a built-in Alexa device that could control various functions within the home and alert her when someone approached the door. It was remarkable to witness how technology could facilitate such independence—truly impressive.
Jazmine had asked Huey if he could stay for a while as she took a moment to freshen up. He was struck by her remarkable ability to navigate the house with only one foot. Despite his admiration, he couldn't shake the unease that accompanied watching her limp around; it prompted him to mentally remind himself to get her a white cane.
But why did he care so deeply? His introspection was abruptly interrupted when she re-entered the living room, adorned in a satin nightdress that accentuated her curves beautifully. A wave of guilt washed over him as he recognized his own feelings of desire for a woman who was blind. If she could see the way he was gazing at her, she would likely feel offended.
"Huey, are you there?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
"Yes, Jazmine. I'm sitting here on the couch," he said. She followed the sound of his voice as she navigated her way toward him. He observed her as she gently brushed her hands against the furniture, using them as a guide, almost as if they were her eyes.
He felt a strong urge to assist her but hesitated, not wanting to offend her independence. It was important for him to remember that she had managed on her own long before their paths crossed. When she finally settled beside him, a bright smile illuminated her face; however, it quickly faded, replaced by an expression of concern.
"What's wrong?" he inquired.
" It's Rocky," she said, her lips trembling as the words escaped her. "My guide dog. I usually let him out in the yard, and he always comes back." Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she blinked rapidly, trying to regain her composure as tears began to well in her eyes.
"Do you think something happened to him?" Panic surged through her, and she instinctively clutched her chest.
"Oh God," she gasped, her eyes widening with fear. "He's probably cold, scared, and alone," she sobbed, rocking back and forth in her chair.
"He's lost, and I feel utterly lost without him," she cried even harder.
Huey observed as she wept, her cries filled with despair. Throughout their years of marriage, his wife had never shed tears in his presence. Unsure of how to respond to a woman's sorrow, he felt an overwhelming urge to offer her comfort.
He gently grasped her hand and said, "Jazmine, listen to me." At the sensation of his touch, she paused and turned to face him. "I will help you find him, but you must trust me," he urged, his voice brimming with sincerity.
Taking a deep breath, she tightened her grip on his hand. "Okay," she sniffled. "I trust you," she replied softly.
"I'll create some flyers, but I need a description of him," he continued, attempting to recall the dog's appearance. His mind was racing with thoughts, yet he distinctly remembered that the dog was a "golden retriever." The words escaped his lips before he could think further.
"Yes! That's exactly what the agency told me. They said he was a golden retriever!" she exclaimed with enthusiasm. "I can't quite recall what a golden retriever looks like, but I do know he's very large and fluffy," she elaborated.
"I saw him," he admitted. "Earlier, when you were getting the mail. I can describe him," he offered.
"You saw me?" Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as memories of her hurried exit flooded back. She realized she hadn't been fully dressed and her hair was likely disheveled.
"Yeah, but it was just for a brief moment," he replied. Noticing her shoulders tense up, he quickly shifted the conversation.
"How old is Rocky?" he inquired.
"When I first adopted him, he was just a year old, and I was 21 at the time. It's been six years now," she explained, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "I hope that's useful," she added, biting her lip in a way that made him find her even more attractive.
"It's very useful," he replied calmly. "I have enough information to create flyers."
"Oh, that's fantastic!" she exclaimed joyfully, clasping her hands together in excitement. "Thank you so much!"
"No problem," he said with a smile. "I should head back home now." He began to stand up.
"You're leaving already?" she asked, her tone laced with disappointment.
"Yes, but I'll be back tomorrow," he said, assisting her to her feet. She walked with him to the door, her fingers entwined around his arm, savoring the warmth of his presence and the comforting scent that enveloped him.
When they finally reached the threshold, he paused outside while she remained inside, leaning against the door and gripping the doorknob tightly.
"I can't thank you enough," she murmured, her curls cascading over her face.
"Just focus on healing that ankle. That will be more than enough thanks," he replied gently, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"Thank you," she whispered softly. "For everything."
"Goodnight, Jazmine DuBois," he said simply before turning to leave.
"Goodnight, Huey Freeman," she said, smiling at him.
He was just about to walk away when she called out to him.
"Huey."
He turned around. "Yes, Jazmine?"
"It was nice meeting you," she said warmly.
He felt a smile spread across his face. "It was nice meeting you too."
He observed her as she entered the building, lingering for a moment to ensure that she was no longer in distress. Once he felt assured of her safety, he made his way back home. Throughout the night, he dedicated himself to printing flyers, even sharing one online with various missing pet agencies.
His thoughts kept drifting back to her; he found himself wondering what she might be doing and whether she was sleeping peacefully. He struggled against the impulse to cross the street and check on her. There was something about this woman that captivated him—something that transcended mere physical attraction. It was the way she snorted when she laughed, a sound he found endearing, despite Huey Freeman's usual disdain for anything deemed "cute." He also noticed how her cheeks flushed a deep red whenever she blushed. He admired her resilience; despite her blindness, she always managed to wear a smile.
He experienced a pang of guilt at the thought of another woman, acutely aware that his lingering feelings for Nicole remained. Yet, Jazmine was unlike anyone he had encountered before. He found himself perplexed by the sudden attraction he felt towards her and recognized a strong desire to learn more about her.