Page 239 of Invisible Bars

I understood immediately.

“Let me leave you with this piece of advice… although you’re already married,” Dessign said, her voice dipping into something gentler—like she wasn’t just speaking to me, but to the version of me I hadn’t met yet. “Be careful who you date and marry. The biggest prison is a home without peace. And whatever you tolerate while dating will multiply times two in a marriage. Marriage doesn’t fix dysfunction; it reveals it all. Don’t ask me how I survived; ask me what song I played on repeat when I thought my whole world was over.”

And just like that, my mind went quiet.

My thoughts drifted backward to that day—uninvited but undeniable.

The career to which I dedicated everything dropped me without warning. I was left in silence—long, heavy silence—and the ache of being discarded by something I loved. So when Dessign said, “Don’t ask me how I survived, ask me what song I played,”I realized I’d never found mine. But maybe… just maybe, love could be louder than what tried to break me.

“When did you and Chi get together?” I asked gently.

“After everything went down with my ex, Chi stepped in. At first, he was just there to make sure I felt safe. Drive me around. Stand behind me when I couldn’t stand up for myself.”

Dessign paused and smiled—really smiled that time.

“But you know how that goes. Time passes, and people show you who they are. Three months later, we weren’t just bodyguard and client; e were us.”

“And your mom? How did she f-feel about it?” I asked carefully.

Dessign rolled her eyes. “Against it from day one. Thought I needed someone more ‘appropriate.’ She didn’t care that I was happy… just that it didn’t fit the picture she painted.”

“And now?”

“She still feels the same way,” she admitted. “But Chi’s never flinched. Not once. No matter what mood I’m in. No matter how hard the days get. He makes me laugh even when I want to throw things. And when I break down—’cause yeah, I still do—he doesn’t panic. He just sits with me… holds me… and listens.”

The moment hung suspended—brittle and waiting to break.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve him,” she resumed. “But I thank God I got him. Actually, every day I am reminded how blessed. Even if my circumstances aren’t ideal. I have so much to be thankful for. So much to give God praise for.”

I reached for her hand, just barely grazing it. She hesitated, surprised—but then flipped her palm over and gave mine a quiet, steady squeeze.

“Dess, in two years, you’ve been the only female—my age—that I feel safe around,” I confessed. “You know what it’s like to carry p-pain that people romanticize but never actually understand.”

She nodded, eyes glistening—but not with tears, just truth.

“Likewise.”

And in that moment—no spotlight, no men around, no dresses or drama—just two women the world didn’t always know how to love.

We celebrated that we’d found someone whodid.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

IMANIO “GATEZ”

Isat in my office scrolling through the gala photos that had just come in. Even though I already knew which images would go viral by morning, I found myself captivated by the stunning snapshots, each one a testament to the night’s enchantment.

Every media outlet was reposting our images, portraying us as the epitome of fashion icons and relationship goals all rolled into one. It was more than just sharing; they were packaging our lives like a fairy tale, complete with glitz and glamour.

Like royalty. Like love.

For the first time in a long while, I didn’t hate how I looked in the photos. I didn’t appear stiff and cold; instead, I seemed relaxed and genuinely happy—just present.

With her.

Suddenly, a knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts. “Yeah,” I called out, turning my focus away from the screen.

The door opened, and in walked Lil B, looking half-confident, half-humbled, like he still couldn’t believe that was his reality.