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Chapter 13 // Try Again

Hustle's POV

The cold breeze rolled in from the Atlantic, brushing against Hustle's skin as he stepped out onto the balcony of their suite at the Borgata Hotel in Atlantic City. The lights of the boardwalk twinkled far below, but all of it faded into background noise the second his eyes landed on Sajadaa.

She stood still, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her silhouette framed by moonlight. There was something delicate about her posture—guarded, quiet, but also strong. Like a cracked vase that somehow still held water. She hadn't crumbled. Not yet.

"Can I talk to you?" Hustle asked, voice low.

She didn't look at him. "You may."

He took a step forward but hesitated. The words he'd prepared, the ones he'd turned over in his mind since dinner went to hell—none of them felt right.

So he walked the rest of the way and gently touched her shoulder. When she turned, he cupped her face in both hands, his thumbs brushing tears she hadn't even tried to hide.

Her eyes, wide and wet, locked with his.

"Jadaa..." he began, breath hitching. "I know I fucked up. Twice. And the first time almost cost me you. But this second time? I won't let it. I won't let you walk off this balcony hurt, thinking you can't trust me. Thinking I'd let you go through this life alone."

He swallowed hard. "You can scream at me, hit me, curse me out—I'll take it. All of it. Just don't cry like this. Not because of me. Not because I didn't do what I needed to do."

Sajadaa reached up and took his wrists, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why now?"

"Because it took me losing you twice to understand what love demands. I should've fought harder. So now I am."

He stepped even closer. "Let me try again. Just one more time. Let me be yours—for real. Let me protect you, be the man I promised you I'd be. I swear, I will never let you or this family down again."

She stared at him, her guard slipping. "I'm tired, Hustle. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of not knowing who to trust."

"Then lean on me," he whispered. "Let me carry it with you. You don't have to figure this out alone."

For a long moment, she said nothing. Just let the silence stretch between them, a quiet filled with everything unspoken.

Then slowly, she nodded.

"You get one shot," she murmured.

He kissed her forehead gently, like a prayer.

"I won't waste it."

Behind them, through the glass doors of the suite, the noise had faded. The chaos of dinner—the crash of Crystal's outburst, the tension in the air—was distant now.

But Hustle knew this wasn't over.

It was just beginning. And this time, he wouldn't fuck up.

The couple walked back into the suite.

The room quieted immediately, everyone looking up from their seats at the dinner table, eyes flicking between Hustle and Sajadaa to gauge what had passed between them.

Sajadaa broke the silence first.

"We still a family," she said softly, before walking off toward the bedroom.

Danny and Aaliyah quickly followed, not saying a word, just trailing after her to make sure she was really okay. The door closed behind them.

That left the boys—Hustle, Reef, and LK—still standing at the table.