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We’re back in Onika’s penthouse, the scent of lavender and faint traces of liquor clinging to the air, mixed with the quiet comfort of her space. Italy feels like a distant dream now, the memories tinged with both the beauty of its landscapes and the intensity of everything that happened between us. Now we’re facing reality, and it’s time to let her go for a while.
“Where should I put this?” I ask, holding up a pair of shoes from her closet. It’s not much of a closet, really, it's huge and yet she still manage to cram it with more clothes than it should hold.
She looks over her shoulder from her suitcase, takes one look at the shoes, and chuckles. “In the pile for Goodwill, honestly,” she says, smirking. “I can’t even remember when I wore those last.”
I laugh, but it feels heavy, layered with everything unsaid. “Italy really changed you, didn’t it?” I tease.
“Maybe it did,” she replies, shrugging as she folds a worn-out sweatshirt and adds it to her suitcase. “Or maybe I just needed that kind of wake-up call. You know, to stop living on autopilot.”
I sit down beside her on the floor, watching her hands as she carefully folds each piece of clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles as if they represent some deeper crease in her life she’s trying to iron out.
She stops mid-fold and looks at me, her eyes soft but filled with worry. “I’m scared, Bey. Like… what if I mess this up? What if I’m just going to my aunt’s to fool myself that I’m changing?”
Her honesty takes me by surprise, but I reach out and place my hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not going there to fool anyone, Onika. You’re going because you know it’s time to do something different. It’s like you said—you need to be real with yourself.”
She nods, but her fingers tremble slightly. I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. I feel her relax against me, letting out a shaky breath.
“I hate this, you know,” she mumbles into my shoulder. “I hate that I even need this. I mean, shouldn’t I be able to figure it out here? With you?”
“Sometimes the best thing is a change of scenery, somewhere you don’t have any of those old associations. It’s like taking a breath of fresh air when you’ve been suffocating,” I say softly.
She chuckles darkly. “Guess I’ve been suffocating myself pretty well, huh?”
I pull back and look at her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to do this alone, okay? You have people who love you, who believe in you. And I’m one of them.”
She swallows hard, her eyes glassy, and I can tell she’s trying to keep herself from crying. She wipes at her eyes before a tear can fall and quickly shifts the topic. “So, how are we going to handle this whole… break thing?”
I sigh, feeling the weight of that question. “Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I want to respect what you need, but I don’t want you to think I’ll disappear on you either.”
