Addicted 2 Moni(editing before completion for book publishing reason)

The Past Never Sleeps...

Justin^^^^

Dewayne POV 

It's been damn near a week since I last saw Harmony.

Feels like longer.

I ain't the type to sit around pressed over no woman—at least, that's what I tell myself. But it's a lie. Because every time I look at my phone, I'm checking to see if she finally texted back.

The morning after I messed up and slept with Asia, I sent her a message. Something soft. Something I hoped could fix it.

💭
Me: Good morning, beautiful 💕
Moni 💜💜: Morning :)
Me: I hope I didn't ruin your night. I'm really sorry if I hurt you.
Moni: I was upset, but I'm over it. And my night was fine.
Me: When can we hang out again?
💭

And just like that—nothing.

It's been days. Not a single response since.

Every hour that passes makes it harder to resist sending another message. But I don't want to come off too eager. My pride says leave it alone, let it go.

But damn—I can't stop thinking about her.

Her voice, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she saw straight through all the shit I put up. That woman been living in my head rent-free, and I ain't even mad at it. It just... bothers me. Because if she really done with me? I feel that loss in my chest.

It's driving me up the wall.

I glance at the clock. Almost time to clock out.

I power down my computer, pack up my briefcase, and try to shake off the tension clinging to me like a second skin. Just as I'm about to leave, there's a knock at my office door. Firm. Final.

Without waiting for permission, my father steps inside. That same cold-ass presence he always carries with him. Like he owns the air we breathe. He doesn't sit close, just plants himself on the gray couch at the back of the office like he already owns the outcome of this conversation.

"Wassup, Pops," I say, keeping my tone even as I close my briefcase.

"Son, we need to talk," he says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. His voice has that weight—like he's already made a decision and just here for formalities.

"Alright, I'm listening," I say, settling on the edge of my desk.

"It's about the cold case we reopened. I've decided to assign James as the lead," he says, watching me close.

My jaw clenches so hard I feel it in my temples.

I bite the inside of my cheek and taste blood.

My hands curl into fists.

James? Again?

"What?! I've been busting my ass on this case. I'm the one who interviewed the grandmother before she passed. You need me on this," I say, trying to keep my voice level but failing.

He just shakes his head.

"No, son. I don't need you. I need your findings. That's evidence enough. This conversation is over."

And just like that, he stands. Like it's final.

Typical.

I see red.

"No! We're not done here. I'm not Mom," I snap.

He pauses mid-step and turns to face me. Outside, I see Carmen slowing her walk, looking in like she hears everything.