Expect The Unexpected (H-Town)

Girls Night

Kaedi

It started like every other night on this trip.

Takeout containers spread across the hotel bed. Shoes kicked off. Music playing low from a radio Leah had found somewhere. Stacey sat cross-legged on the floor painting her nails, Leah leaned against the headboard flipping through a magazine, and I laid back staring at the ceiling.

But the air felt... heavy.

"You been quiet all night," Stacey said without looking up. "That's never a good sign."

I sighed. "Can I just breathe for a second?"

"That is you breathing," Leah said gently. "But it sounds like you holding something in."

I sat up slowly.

"Okay," I said. "Fine."

They both looked at me now—really looked at me. No judgment. No teasing.

"I think I heard a song today that reminded me of Dino," I admitted. "And it caught me off guard. Not because I want to go backward. But because I realized I never really said goodbye to that version of my life."

Stacey capped her nail polish and leaned back on her hands. "So you miss him?"

I shook my head. "That's the thing. I don't think I miss him. I miss who I was when everything felt intense and reckless and unfinished."

Leah nodded slowly. "That don't mean you want it back."

"Exactly," I said. "But it also don't mean it's gone."

The room went quiet for a moment.

Stacey broke it. "Let me say this real clear. Missing something don't mean you supposed to return to it. Sometimes it just means it mattered."

That hit.

Leah added softly, "And peace doesn't always feel as loud as passion. But it lasts longer."

I looked down at my hands. "Hakeem gives me peace. He's patient. He doesn't rush me. And that scares me because I'm not used to being loved without chaos."

Stacey laughed lightly. "Girl, that's not fear—that's growth."

"But you gotta be honest with him," Leah said. "Not later. Not when you're 'sure.' Now."

I nodded. "I know."

"And as for Dino," Stacey continued, "if he comes back different, you still don't owe him anything. Change don't mean access."

I exhaled, tension easing out of my shoulders.

"Y'all always know what to say," I murmured.

"That's because we've watched you love from the deep end since we was kids," Stacey said. "And for once, you standing on solid ground. Don't jump just because the water familiar."

Leah reached over and squeezed my hand. "Whatever you choose, just make sure it's not out of guilt. Or nostalgia."

I leaned back against the pillows, eyes burning a little.

"I don't wanna choose wrong."

Stacey smiled softly. "There ain't always a wrong. Sometimes there's just a now... and a not yet."
The room settled again—lighter this time.

Outside, the city hummed. Inside, for the first time in a long while, I felt supported instead of pulled.

And I realized something important:

Whatever decision was coming...
I wouldn't be making it alone.

Hakeem

I knew the conversation was coming.