Hoops & Harmonies

51

Monica stood at the window of her living room, arms crossed as she stared out into the quiet Atlanta street. The weather outside was warm, but she felt cold, her thoughts heavier than the clouds that drifted lazily in the sky. It had been days since her last conversation with Angel, and while the space had given her time to think, it hadn't made things any clearer.

She sighed and walked away from the window, heading toward the kitchen to make herself some tea. As she boiled the water, her mind drifted back to her conversation with her mom. Marilyn's words replayed in her head, telling her to take her time, to forgive when she was ready, but Monica didn't feel ready yet.

The trust between her and Angel had been broken, and no amount of love could change that. They had built so much together, created a life, a family, but now, she wasn't sure if that foundation was strong enough to withstand what had happened.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, her heart skipping a beat when she saw it was her best friend, Shante, calling. She hadn't spoken to Shante about what was going on, not in detail anyway. But maybe it was time to talk it out with someone who knew her just as well as she knew herself.

"Hey, girl," Monica said, answering the call and leaning against the counter.

"Monica, what's up? I haven't heard from you in a minute. You good?" Shante's voice was as warm and familiar as always, full of concern and love.

Monica bit her lip, unsure of where to start. "Not really," she admitted, rubbing her temple. "I've been going through it."

"What happened? Is it Angel? You've been kinda quiet about things lately, and that's not like you. Spill."

Monica took a deep breath and walked over to the kitchen table, sinking into one of the chairs. "Yeah, it's Angel. We've been having some serious problems. I don't even know where to begin."

"Start at the beginning," Shante encouraged. "I'm here to listen."

Monica nodded, though Shante couldn't see her. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then started to explain everything—how she saw that picture of Angel with another person in the car, how it shook her to the core, and how even though Angel had explained everything, the trust had been damaged.

"I just don't know, Shante," Monica said, her voice thick with emotion. "I love her, but this hurt is so deep. I feel like I don't know how to get past it."

Shante was quiet for a moment, processing everything. "I get it, Mo. That's a lot to deal with. When trust is broken, it's hard to figure out how to move forward. But do you think you want to move forward with her? Or are you feeling like this is the end?"

Monica stared down at the table, tracing the wood grain with her finger. "I don't know," she finally said, her voice quiet. "Part of me wants to try and make it work because I love her, and we've built so much together. But another part of me is just... tired. I don't know if I have the energy to rebuild what we had."

Shante stayed quiet for a moment, letting Monica's words hang in the air. "It sounds like you're torn," she said gently. "But that's understandable. It's not easy to just move on from someone you've spent years building a life with. I mean, y'all have a whole family together."

Monica nodded, though Shante couldn't see her. "Exactly. I keep thinking about the kids, too. I don't want to break up our family. But then I think, if I can't trust her, what kind of example are we setting for them?"

"You're right," Shante agreed. "But, Mo, you have to do what's best for you. If you can't heal, the relationship's not going to work anyway. And you don't want to stay in something that's going to hurt you more."

Monica sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I know. I just... I never thought we'd end up here. I always thought we'd make it through anything."

"Maybe you can," Shante said softly. "But it's okay if you need more time to figure that out. Don't rush yourself. You don't have to decide everything right now."

Monica appreciated Shante's calm presence. She wasn't pushing her to make a decision, wasn't judging her for feeling conflicted. "Thanks, Shante. I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, girl. You know I got you. Just take care of yourself, alright? And if you need anything—anything at all—don't hesitate to call me."

"I will," Monica promised. After they hung up, Monica sat at the table for a long time, staring at her cup of tea that had gone cold. The conversation with Shante had helped, but it hadn't made the decision any easier.

Monica got up from the table and wandered back into the living room, her eyes landing on a framed photo of her, Angel, and the kids from their last vacation. Everyone was smiling, the sun setting behind them, and for a moment, everything had been perfect. But was that enough to hold on to now? Could the love they had built truly survive this?

Monica sank onto the couch, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her again. She missed Angel—missed her so much it hurt. But the fear of being hurt again was too strong to ignore. It felt like she was standing at a crossroads, and no matter which way she went, it would change everything.

She glanced at her phone, half-expecting a message from Angel, but there was nothing new. It was probably for the best. She wasn't ready to talk yet, wasn't ready to decide.

For now, all she could do was take things one day at a time and hope that, eventually, the path forward would become clear.

That evening, after much reflection, Monica picked up her phone and dialed Angel's number. It rang once, twice, and then Angel picked up.

"Monica?" Angel's voice was soft, unsure.

Monica took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's me. I've been thinking about us. About everything."

There was a pause, and Monica could hear the nervousness in Angel's breath. "What are you thinking?" Angel asked carefully.

Monica closed her eyes, summoning the courage to say what she'd been turning over in her mind all day. "I'm not ready to give up on us," she said, her voice steady but filled with vulnerability. "But if we're going to fix this, we need help. We can't do it alone, Angel. We have to go to marriage counseling."

Angel exhaled slowly on the other end of the line, her voice tinged with relief. "I'll do whatever it takes, Monica. Counseling, anything. I just want to fix this."

Monica nodded, though Angel couldn't see her. "It's going to take time, and it's not going to be easy. But I'm willing to try if you are."

"I'm all in," Angel promised. "I'll go to counseling, whatever it takes. I just want us to get back to being us again."

"I do too," Monica whispered. "But we have to start slow. We need to be honest with each other, and we have to rebuild trust. That's going to take work, Angel."

"I know," Angel said, her voice quiet but determined. "I'm ready for that. I want to put in the work."

"Okay," Monica said, feeling a small flicker of hope. "I'll start looking for a counselor tomorrow."

"Thank you," Angel said, her voice full of emotion. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

Monica nodded, the weight on her chest lifting slightly. "We're giving us a chance. Let's see where it goes."

They hung up after a few more words, and for the first time in a long time, Monica felt a small glimmer of hope. It wouldn't be easy, but maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.