ᴍᴏᴛɪᴇsʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴋɪɴɢ (#1 ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟʟs ᴛʀɪʟᴏɢʏ)✓

56: Tiesha And The Promise

The bed was empty when Tiesha woke up.

For a moment, she thought it had all been a dream.

Her head turned instinctively, eyes landing on Honey’s small, peaceful face.

The little girl was lying on her stomach, lips mushed together in that way she always did when she was in deep sleep.

One tiny hand rested lightly on Tiesha’s arm, fingers curled.

When Tiesha began to shift, Honey stirred. She froze, holding her breath, then slowly rubbed the baby’s back until she settled again. Bending down, she pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed.

The bathroom stopped her cold.

The floor was wet, streaks of water still clinging to the tiles. The toilet seat… she frowned. A yellowish liquid stained the porcelain.

He had come home.

It wasn’t a dream.

For reasons she couldn’t fully explain, that realization made her cry.

She had missed him so much it had been eating her from the inside out.

Sniffing back snot, she grabbed a wipe, cleaned the seat, and started the shower.

Warm water rained down on her skin, sliding over curves and catching in the hollows of her collarbones. She braced her palms against the wall, head bent, and thought about Ky’Mon.

His touch. His face. That smirk that was both trouble and comfort.

Her chest ached. She’d pushed him away—and now it just felt wrong.

When she finished bathing, she toweled off and padded quietly back into the bedroom. Honey was still asleep, tiny breaths puffing against the pillow.

Tiesha crossed into Ky’Mon’s closet. Without hesitation, she reached for her favorite shirt—white, oversized, with a giant Spongebob grinning on the front and the whole cartoon crew printed across the back.

On her, it stopped mid-thigh, the short sleeves brushing her upper arms.

She dug through her own side of the closet next, searching for her matching Spongebob underwear.

She was so caught up in her hunt she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.

“Your midget ass ain’t finna reach that shelf.”

The voice made her shriek. She spun too quickly, nearly stumbling into the narrow space between the wardrobe doors.

Ky’Mon stood there, leaning casually against the frame. He wore faded dark jeans slung low enough to flash the waistband of his Calvin Kleins.

His chest was bare, skin smooth and warm-toned, his left foot in a red sock and the right in blue. Arms folded, eyes locked on her.

God, she’d missed him.

Missed him so fucking much.

Her lip trembled. The pressure behind her eyes broke, and tears welled up fast. She stayed rooted to the spot. He didn’t move either.

The first tear slid down her cheek.

“Ky’Mon,” she cried.

One eyebrow lifted, but before he could speak again, she rushed him. Her arms flung around his neck, and the impact made him grunt as he lost his balance for half a second.

He steadied them quickly, arms wrapping firm around her waist.

She buried her face against his chest, sobbing.