Najee’s eyes flicked down to her legs for a second before returning to the road. “You look good as hell in it. But yeah… the second we get in the house, I’m ripping it off you.”
Jackie laughed, thighs clenching at the casual threat.
“This dress is three hundred dollars, Nigel.” Without missing a beat he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and peeled off three crisp hundred-dollar bills. He handed them to her like it was nothing. She took the money, stuffed it in her purse, and shook her head.
“You are a sick man.” Jackie laughed. “I’m not though,” he said, clutching her thigh tighter. A comfortable silence fell over the car. Jackie could tell whatever was wrong with the house was weighing on him. He’d been a little different ever since he brought it up. She wasn’t crazy—she knew her house needed work. Hearing it wouldn’t shock her. But once they pulled up outside his office in Rittenhouse. a feeling came over her. It wasn’t good or bad. But whatever it was she couldn’t shake it.
“You gotta grab something from your office?” Jackie asked as she leaned back against the window and yawned. “Yeah,” he said. “But I want to show you something.”
That feeling washed over her again. “Show me what?”
“An apartment,” he said finally, looking at her for the first time.
Jackie’s stomach tightened. “Why would I need to see an apartment, Nigel?”
He let out a deep breath. “Because… you can’t stay at your house anymore.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
JACKIE
All Jackie heard was you can’t stay at your house anymore.
The words hit her like a slap she saw coming but still couldn’t dodge. She sat frozen in the passenger seat, the truck’s heat blasting against her bare thighs, the leather dress suddenly feeling too tight, too short, too everything. Her heart started doing that thing it did when fear crept in. She felt her old armor sliding into place before she could stop it.Anger.It was always the easiest thing to grab. She stared straight ahead through the windshield, watching the city lights smear across the glass, but all she could see was that old North Philly rowhouse. The only home she ever had. The same house she fought tooth and nail to keep after Max Sr.’s family tried to take everything. The one that had given her and her boys shelter when she had nothing and no one else. The only thing in this world that truly belonged to her. The pipes were ancient, the basement had seen better days, but it was hers. The first thing she’d ever owned outright. The one place where no one could tell her she didn’t belong. The one place where she could just be Jackie. And now Najee was telling her she couldn’t stay there anymore. She felt the words rising before she could swallow them. “You got me fucked up,” she snapped.
“Take me home.” Her voice came out sharper than she meant it to.
“So this was the news? You just decide I can’t stay in my own damn house? Because what? It’s cold? Like it’s that simple?” Najee kept one hand on the wheel, the other still resting on her thigh. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t snap back. He just glanced over at her, calm as ever. “Jackie—”
“No.” She cut him off, the anger bubbling up hot and fast. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to roll up in here, drop off some dick, pay for some dinner, and then tell me I gotta leave the only thing I got that’s mine. I fought for that house. I cried in that house. I raised my sons in that house when everybody else tried to take them from me. And now you just… what? Decide it’s not good enough?”
Her chest was tight. Her hands were shaking. She hated how small she felt saying it out loud, but the fear was louder than the shame right now. Najee pulled the truck over slowly, parking on a quiet side street. He turned the engine off but left the heat running. Then he shifted in his seat so he was facing her fully. He didn’t look mad. He didn’t look sorry, either. He just looked at her — steady, patient, like he had all the time in the world to wait for her to stop swinging. “I’m not saying it’s not good enough,” he said quietly. “I’m saying it’s not safe. Not for you. Not for Max. I had an expert come in and not only did he find issues with the hot water heater. He found black mold, foundational issues, old pipes and other issues. The good news is everything is fixable, babe. You just can’t be in there. Look, I believe the house is trying to tell you something, Jackie. And you not listening. And I’m not gonna sit back and watch you ignore it just because you’re scared to let somebody help.”
Jackie laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Scared? You think this is about me being scared? This is about me knowing how this shit goes. People come in talking about ‘helping’ and the next thing I know I’m the one with nothing again. I’ve been here before, Najee. I had a whole life with my late fiancé, andthey took every piece of it. Then Marcus took my son from me. After taking everything the fuck else. People are always taking things from me. All I had left was that house. And now you’re telling me I can’t even have that?” Her voice cracked on the last word. She hated it.
For a second she wanted to snatch her hand back, open the door, and walk the rest of the way home just to prove she still could. She hated that she was sitting here in a three-hundred-dollar dress, in a Porsche truck, with a man who kept trying to take care of her, and all she could do was push back like she was still twenty-eight years old, rocking a four-month-old in a cold living room with nowhere else to go. Najee reached over and took her hand. He didn’t squeeze hard. He just held it, thumb brushing slow circles over her knuckles like he was trying to steady her heartbeat. “Baby,I’m not them,” he said, voice low and even. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Jackie. I’m trying to make sure you and your boys have something better and safer. Something that doesn’t make you fight every single day just to keep the heat on. “She looked away, eyes stinging. “I know it’s hard to let somebody in,” he continued, still holding her hand. “I see you, baby. I see how much you’ve had to carry by yourself. How much you’ve had to fight for. And I’m not asking you to stop being strong. I’m just asking you to let me stand next to you while you do it.” Jackie’s throat felt tight. She wanted to snap back. Wanted to tell him she didn’t need saving. Wanted to remind him she had been doing this shit alone for years and she was still standing. But the fight was draining out of her, replaced by something heavier — something that felt a lot like relief and terror at the same time. She swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to let somebody take care of me without feeling like the other shoe gone drop.” Najee leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, then rested his forehead against hers.
“Baby, I’m here for the long haul,” he murmured. “You’re letting somebody see you. All of you. And I’m still here, Jackie. I’m not going anywhere.” She closed her eyes, letting his words settle over her like a blanket. The anger was still there, simmering low, but it wasn’t swallowing her whole anymore. It was then, she could finally hear him. “So are you going to come upstairs and see the apartment?” he asked gently. Jackie looked up at him, closed her eyes for a second, then nodded her head yes.
CHAPTER FIFTY- SEVEN
JACKIE
The brownstone was dark when they stepped inside.
Najee held the door open for her, his hand resting lightly against the small of her back as she crossed the threshold. She had been here before, but only through the main entrance where patients came in for sessions. This time he led her through a private entrance on the street side, a door she had never noticed tucked into the side of the staircase. The building was over a hundred years old, but this door looked newer, there were clean lines and fresh paint that didn’t quite match the rest of the old architecture. “When this door get here?” Jackie asked, voice low and quiet.
“Like twenty-five years ago,” Najee said with a small smile, unlocking it.
“This building used to be my father’s. He gifted it to me when I received my white coat. He added the private entrance sometime in the nineties. Most people miss it when they come in, and that’s by design.” He pushed the door open. A short hallway led to a narrow set of steps. Najee flipped on a soft wall sconce, and they climbed together in silence until they reached the top floor. The apartment opened up, and Jackie was immediately taken aback by how big it was. Floor-to-ceiling bay windows overlooked Rittenhouse Square Park. Because it was winter, the park was decorated with beautiful lights that twinkled against the dark. She could see traffic moving slowlyaround the square, headlights cutting through the cold night, and for a moment the whole scene felt surreal, like something out of a movie.
Jackie stood there longer than she meant to, just staring, before she had to physically pull herself away from the window. Najee gave her the tour without rushing. He showed her everything, room by room. The space was currently very minimal—just a sofa, a coffee table, two end tables, a work desk, and a small fireplace. He mentioned he’d been using the apartment to store files and sleep sometimes. The kitchen was noticeably bigger and more modern than hers, with a small island and plenty of room for a dining table or kitchenette. The bedrooms and bathroom were all perfect, clean, bright, and untouched. Jackie followed quietly at first, taking it all in, saying almost nothing.
Najee stopped in front of the desk, leaning against the window frame, arms crossed. “I was thinking we could keep this setup for now,” he said casually. “It’s minimum and modern. We can always add more later if you want.” Jackie’s nose wrinkled before she could stop it. She looked at the sofa again, then at him. “What about me gives minimal and modern?” she said, the first real words she’d spoken since they walked in. “Nah. I want warm, cozy earth tones. I’m talking deep browns, sage green, and terracotta. Najee, if I stay here, I need to be able to make it feel like home, because right now it feels like a waiting room.” She smiled a little, glancing back at the sofa. “I’d probably get rid of that sofa first. It’s nice, but it feels clinical. That shit can go downstairs in your office.”
Najee watched her from across the room, the corner of his mouth lifting like he’d been waiting for her to speak up. “I knew that modern and minimal shit was gonna wake you up,” he smiled. “Look, we can do all new furniture, or you can keep what’s in here if you like. There’s a whole other apartmentdownstairs in the basement with furniture down there as well. We can mix and match. Whatever makes it feel like home to you.”
Jackie turned to face him fully. The city lights glowed behind her. “You really want me here?” she asked, voice softer now. Najee pushed off the window frame and crossed the room to her. “I want you safe,” he said. “I want you warm. I want you somewhere you don’t have to fight the cold every night or worry about the pipes freezing. And yes… I want you close. Both of y’all.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “But only if you want it too.”