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A double squeeze to her hand, Maximus let her know that he had it. Eden smirked, knowing that whatever was coming out of her man’s mouth was going to set the record straight once and for all.

“Clout is crazy. You see how good she looks? She’s fly, I'm fly; why not do that fly shit together and enjoy it? I hope you find some real shit so you know how it feels. Put some respect on her name the next time y’all formulate these questions.

Thanks for your time, you take care of yourself.

” With that, Maximus led Eden away and made sure she was in the custody of Staysha and their security before he was rushed off to the other stage to perform.

Neglecting to be seated immediately, Eden was tucked away at the side of the stage watching Maximus’ metamorphosis into his wildest dreams. His journey was beautiful and worth every accolade he was presented along the way. There was no question in her mind that she could do this forever.

It’d been three weeks since Ocean City, Maximus had the final touches to his album done and three mixtapes in the reserve in the event the predicted bullshit popped off before its release. His home studio was done, and at this point, Eden was with him four nights a week.

Finding her stretched out on the patio after a few laps around the pool, he admired how the sun glistened over her brown skin. She had to be comprised of gold, amber, and brown sugar. Settled by her, he picked up her leg and draped it over his lap.

“Look who emerged from the studio,” she teased.

“Why didn’t you come down there?”

“You had enough going on, you didn’t need me.”

“I always need you,” he commented, finding his peace again in her stillness. “There’s a birthday creeping up on me, what do you want to do?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Eden stated, turning her head to him. “Birthdays aren’t really happy for me.”

“Why not?”

Eden shrugged. “A reminder that Poppi isn’t here. A few months ago, the thought literally felt like I had no business celebrating when everything was in shambles.”

“I think you should consider celebrating yourself. All that shit you be tellin’ me, I need you to apply it too. You’ve accomplished so much.”

“I hear you, but I think I'm going to pass on it.”

Maximus shrugged. “So I can tell Staysha to go ahead with the listening party for that day?”

“Yeah.”

He studied her and chuckled inwardly, “Aight. Get dressed, we got reservations.”

A few days had gone by, and Maximus found himself at the rehab center with a bag of brand-new clothes, hope, and anxiousness brewing in his spirit.

Augustus had been out of sight but not out of mind.

He was cowering in some drug-infested hole, avoiding contact with Maximus’ fists.

Him out of the picture for now would be good for their mother.

Depending on how this conversation went, he was either coming home with her or extending her stay.

After ten long minutes of what seemed like an eternity as he stood statue-like in the courtyard, his mother appeared. She looked like her old self. Skin dewy and bouncing back from the abuse she’d subjected it to, weight coming back on her bones, and an almost peaceful spirit.

“Maximus,” she crooned, taking in her youngest.

He offered her a half smile as he stood to his feet to greet her. “What’s goin’ on, ma? You look good.”

“I’ll be better when I get out of this place. Back to freedom.”

Maximus grimaced as he released her and took a seat. “You ready for that? Freedom.”

“I mean, yeah. I can’t look after you in here.”

His brows fused. “Look after me?”

She nodded. “I saw your performance. Heard the buzz around it. You need me there with you.”

“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Don’t you think? There’s too many vices on the road you don’t need to be around.”

“Look at me, Max. I’m strong, I can handle that and you. Watch.”

Maximus sat back, pushed his hands in the pockets of his sweats, and looked around at the families experiencing joy in the healing that their beloved family members had found.

And there was him and his mother at an impasse.

She was trying to find another thing to control – his career.

He’d never trust her hands in the growth of his career or with his money.

He’d watched her mismanage herself and her children for years.

The difference now was he was older, wiser, and wasn’t going to fall for the dream she could sell or paint.

“I think you should focus on getting better and not what I got going on.”

“Why can’t I? You’re all on the red carpet with some girl, beating people up, and then rapping about it and her. Not to mention praising a known queenpin. Maximus, you need me.”

He gritted. “Actually, ma, I don’t. I don’t need.

I haven’t needed you. I wanted you. I wanted a mother to be a mother and to love me and not constantly fuckin’ choose niggas over her son.

I wanted that love. Needed it or you? Nah.

You snipped that need when you put me out.

Had me sleeping in ditches. Crazy how I looked for you to come save me. That’s all I wanted, ma.”

She scoffed. “So, Poppi did that?”

“She did. The best she could. Taught me how to hustle so I could feed myself. Taught me the game so niggas wouldn’t snake me out.

Everyone but my own fuckin’ blood. I’ve kept my head on a swivel from these niggas on the streets, but it was the people I called family doing me dirty.

So needing you, especially now? Hell no.

And if this is your position, you ain’t going home today. ”

“WHAT? Maximus! I need to go home. I can’t spend another minute here!”

There was unwanted attention on them.

“What home?” Maximus gritted. “Huh? What fuckin’ home? The one you let Gus take over, run into the fuckin’ ground, and not keep up the taxes on it? That one?”

“Can’t you just handle that for me? You got it. I know you do. I know how expensive this place is.”

Maximus scoffed bitterly, officially done with this.

She wasn’t coming home, he wasn’t going to pay delinquent taxes, nor was he giving her the money for it.

“Whether I got it or not, you ain’t getting it and you ain’t leaving.

I bought you some more clothes. I got a few shows coming up, so I’ll check on you when I get back. ”

“That’s if I'm here when you get back. If it’s fuck me, then it’s fuck you too. Spending all your time with some bitch and can’t take care of your own mother.”

“My mother got to give me some shit to work with. I’m not in the business of rescuing you off the street every time you make a fucked-up decision.”

Maximus stood, placed her bag of clothes on the table, and rounded it. He kissed the top of her head and lingered there. In his sorrow, he grumbled, “I wish you understood how I'm trying to save you from yourself and the vipers. I love you, even if you can’t love me.”

He left with tears dancing at the brim of his eyes, but he waited until he got in his truck to release them. Eden was on set, and he didn’t want to disturb her. He should’ve known she sensed him. Before he could pull out of the parking lot, her call came through.

With a cleared throat, he answered, “What’s up, E?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” she spoke with concern. “I can feel you.”

“This shit is so fuckin’ heavy, E. So fuckin’ heavy. Like, why can’t she just get better and be a fuckin’ mother? Why can’t she love me for real? Now I got money, and she wants to latch on to me. She wants to come home and do shit I needed her to do almost twenty years ago.”

Eden didn’t speak. She allowed him the sacred space to sob. Maximus’ truck was parked in the entrance as he grieved a relationship he’d never have.

“I just wanted her to love me, but she can’t fucking do it and I got to stop expecting it,” he spoke, getting himself together. “I swear when I have kids, I'm never putting them through this bullshit. I swear I'm not.”

Eden chuckled softly. “Maybe that’s the beauty of having horrible ass parents, we’ll know what not to do.”

Maximus’ mind flashed with images of Eden carrying his seed and them raising a family together. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’ve been right at times. You need me to wrap this up early or...”

“Nah, handle your shit, baby. I’m gon’ hit the studio until you head home.”

“Your stalking ass. I found that Joy360 app on my phone.”

Maximus welcomed the laugh. “Gotta make sure my wifey is good.”

“Boy, stop playing on my phone. You sure you don’t need me?”

“I’ll always need you, E, that shit is automatic. And before you ask, I’ll always want you, too.”

“Stop it, this wasn’t about me. But I’ll always want you. I'll always need you.”

“You gon’ love me, E?”

“More than you’ll know. Head to the studio, release that shit.”