I Want You Close | The Other Side Of The Game Series

PROLOGUE

J A N E L L A

'The man who counts the bits of food he swallows is never satisfied.' Those were the words my parents' had served me everyday for breakfast, lunch and dinner to mould me into the person I was today.

GRATEFUL

I was grown to be grateful for every step, every breath, and every meal I ate because there was no way of telling if it'd be my last. I was grown to appreciate everyone who had proven themselves accable to receiving such an act of kindness, and I was grown to be appreciated by anyone I let into my circle because as much as I was taught to be grateful I was also taught not to let me be taken for granted.

I was grown to want, but be grateful for what I had.

I was grateful for peace...

I was grateful for moments like these, where the smell of the meal I had been cooking made its way into my nose as it bounced off my kitchen walls. It was a smell that had me craving a taste but I knew I was in a long wait behind many more spices that were needed to make the taste reflect the smell...the smell that reminded me of my childhood and all the good memories it came with—memories I was happy to have.

I remember entering the kitchen when I was little and seeing my father standing in front of the stove, cooking dinner for everyone with my mother releasing jokes in his ear to make him laugh while he carried out the task, which many titled strenuous because they lacked the passion he had for the skill...that we did.

Cooking was a part of me, it was something I was convinced had been engraved in my DNA because like my father, his father loved to cook to the point where he opened his own restaurant to share his talents with his community, so when he died it was not a surprise when my father took over the business to continue the legacy grandpa left, a legacy my brother and I were going to receive whenever dad was ready to hand it down, a legacy that would ensure generation wealth, our legacy.

I hastily but carefully placed the remaining seasonings into the pot my eyes were trained on before covering it and making my way into the living room that was patiently waiting to be used, since I had not too long ago turned on the television with the intention of putting on the movie I was currently trying to rewatch, 'Love Jones', but the moment I took a seat I was met by a wave of heat that brought the reality of me sweating to my mind which prompted my hand to reach for and turn on the fan that was a small distance in front of me.

Cool.

That's how I felt the minute the air from the windy appliance greeted my skin, however, I wasn't offered the opportunity to bask in its cool hands because the sound of my doorbell ringing pulled my attention off of the object to stand, and approach the wooden door that granted access into my home.

After stopping at the door and looking through its peephole, I used my unoccupied hand to pull it open, granting my friends permission to enter and take off their shoes.

"Took yo ass long enough." Sasha proclaimed, and I had to roll my eyes in response to this comment because she was moving like she hadn't just rang the doorbell.

"Now why is you acting like y'all been at that door all damn day?" I questioned her, voicing my thoughts as she removed her shoes and I closed my door.

"With this heat it sure felt like it." She expressed, resting her footwear in an appropriate place before wandering further into my house with a shake of her head. "Shit girl, you needa turn on yo damn AC."

"And who's gon pay them bills? The fan is on in the living room." I notified her, and this had her redirecting her steps towards said area, allowing me to rest my eyes upon Gabriella, who finally chose to speak.