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She lived and breathed the ultimate experiences.

She believed that every person in life deserved to experience good things, great people, and at least a decent love before they left earth.

It was the reason she was the one in her friend group hosting everyone on holidays, planning their trips, overdoing it on birthdays, and greeting every new member of our community with love and sincerity pumping through her veins.

“Hello.”

The blood drained from my face at the sound of the voice just a few inches away. Familiarity punched me in the gut. My jawline grew rigid as I tried processing the softness I’d experienced and involuntarily thought of daily.

I adjusted my position, slightly unprepared for what was waiting for me. Who was waiting for me. At a snail’s pace, I turned ninety degrees.

Hello . Her voice melted the icicles around the sensitive chambers of my heart. I couldn’t forget it. My head wouldn’t allow it. Since Aliza had introduced her the other night, she’d made a home in my mind.

I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t sure how. And, I wasn’t sure when she’d move along. But, staring back at her dark, inviting orbs, I wasn’t sure I was ready for that just yet.

“I’m Jada. Jada De Bacco. This is my husband Elio. My daughter, Nadia. And, my son, Saint.”

“I’m Rome.”

Confidently, she extended her hand to grab my mother’s. Her shoulders were squared. Her nostrils were wide. Her cheeks were plump. Her hair was perfect, half up and half hanging. Her dress was long and flowy.

Her skin was flawless and moisturized well. Her lips were glossy. Her smile was radiant. And, her eyes– they were still on me.

Studying me.

Dissecting me.

Remembering me.

Savoring me .

“We wanted to introduce ourselves and welcome you to the neighborhood. We’ve watched them build this home since day one and never imagined how beautiful it would be in the end. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” Rome responded, still lost at sea.

Together, we were estranged on a deserted island. No life jackets. No lifeguards. No one. No words. Just us. Our eyes and our curiosity.

“Well, we won’t keep you long. We brought you some things to help you get settled in. I wasn’t sure if you had children or a husband, but I packed extras, just in case.”

“My husband–” Rome paused, reaching inside of my chest and squeezing my heart.

I grunted, shaking off the pain I felt. Physically, I was affected by her brief, unfinished response.

“He hasn’t found his way home yet.”

So where the nigga at?

He lives here?

He’s going to live here?

Who the fuck is this nigga, anyway?

My mind began racing. Questions that were none of my fucking business somehow needed answers suddenly. My body warmed instantly. I felt feverish. Nauseous. Weakened. Overwhelmed. Repulsed. Unwell.

“What time will he get here?” My father asked. “I’d like to meet him.”

Finally, her gaze faltered. It found my father. And, for the first time in my life, I was jealous of the old man. He had something I didn’t have at the moment; her attention.

“When he realizes this is home.” She sighed. “Until then, it’s just me and those two.”

She lifted her chin, signaling toward her security detail.

“No dogs. No cats. No children. Not yet,” she explained.

Visibly relieved, my shoulders sagged. I used my free hand to wipe my mouth. The saliva had finally begun flowing again. At the thought of this celestial creature belonging to a man didn’t sit well with me. It made me ill. Physically. Mentally.

Get your shit together, nigga . I chastised.

“Saint–” My mother urged me to hand over the basket in my hand.

Nadia had passed along the wine. My mother had handed over the champagne. I stepped forward, pushing past my parents. My feet didn’t stop at her. They didn’t stop at her door. They didn’t stop until I was in the foyer of her home next to the long console table.

Ruffling from outside beckoned for my attention. However, it was occupied. My eyes roamed her long, seemingly never ending body. In the long dress it flowed like lava. Her security guards bombarded the entrance of her home.

The movement of their feet was terminated at the twisting of her middle finger and thumb. Her hand waved toward the door, demanding the men who’d just entered to remove themselves. Silently, they complied, leaving us alone.

The quietness echoed loudly in my ears. I utilized the time to take her in. All of her. She was long. She was lean. She was impressive. Dark skin covered her entire frame. A birth mark rested right underneath her shoulder.

Though fearless, she was as fragile as a feather on a baby bird’s back. A soft, pleasantly gentle life had been handed to her on a gold platter. She obliged, falling effortlessly for its treasures and intricacies.

She wakes up. She lives. She breathes. That’s her only responsibility on earth .

That’s all she needed to do. That’s all she deserved to do. A woman of her caliber shouldn’t be required to do anything more.

But, I knew better. I’d witnessed her in full bloom. On stage. In her element. And, I knew that she did a lot more than wake up, live, and breathe. She floated like a butterfly. She moved fluidly. And, she raced through my mind. Three days straight she’d been running, nonstop.

Your feet must be tired . I suppressed.

“Rome Childers,” I said instead.

“Saint De Bacco.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood.”

A cute, quick nod displayed her appreciation. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was suppressing. Avoiding. Hiding. Thinking. The happenings of her head were heavy on my heart.

I pressed forward, making my way back out of the door. Handing Rome the basket wasn’t an option. Her hands were already full with things that I would’ve removed myself hadn’t she set them down as I stormed into her home.

“Well, they let us know you have plans, and obviously my son has stirred up some trouble, so we’re going to let you go. If you need anything, we’re the home right of yours. Don’t hesitate to stop by.”

“I’ll bear in mind,” she told my mother as she waltzed through the foyer and out onto the porch. “Thank you so kindly.”

I stood off to the side, observing even the smallest of her movements. My hands were in front of me, joined and concealing the result of my rushing blood. Rome was well-spoken. Well dressed. Well traveled. Well cared for. Well. In every sense of the word.

Someone loved her and that love didn’t just start. It was deep, rooted, and began long before she exited her mother’s womb. Someone cherished her presence. And, somehow, I understood why. The reasons were piling as I watched her smile widened.

She was introverted. The curves of her lips were forged. However, she was kindhearted and found it hard to deny access to her. I looked out into the yard where security waited.

That’s why they’re here. To deny. Deny. Deny .

My mother was the first to step down from the porch. My father followed, still taking in the property. Nadia extended her hand and led me down with her. I didn’t protest. I followed.

When we were out of earshot, Nadia leaned in closer. Our bodies collided softly. She was brimming with words. I sensed them. It wasn’t long before she couldn’t hold onto them and they came tumbling out.

“Soooo– are you going to pretend you’re not attracted to her orrrr–”

“I’m engaged, Nadia.”

“Soooo– are you going to pretend you’re not attracted to her orrrr–” she repeated, ignoring what I’d just said to her.

I pushed out a fresh stream of air. The urge to turn back was becoming unbearable. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before obeying my body. When my eyes found her again, her eyes told me they’d never left me.

Like a moth to a flame, I drew closer to her, allowing my grip on Nadia’s hand to loosen until it no longer existed. On the porch, face to face, I pulled my pants up on my waist.

Where have you been? The words were at the tip of my tongue. They had no grounds here, so I pushed them down my throat, saving them for another day.

The desire to be near brought me slightly closer. The bottom of her dress toyed with my jeans. With my head. With my sanity.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I inquired, “Have we met before?”

She shook her head, “No, Saint. We haven’t met before. Not in this lifetime.”

I nodded, trying to get to the bottom of things. Of feelings .

“It’s just that– you feel familiar. This feels familiar. Are you sure I don’t know you?”

“Saint–” she breathed out, remaining poised and pretty.

She smelled like strawberries and cream and vanilla and honey and a combination of everything good. My name rolling off her tongue was transcending. I searched for the surface beneath my feet. It was still there, yet I was on one of the fluffy clouds she’d designed herself.

“You don’t know me, yet, but your heart does. It’s no stranger to me.”

I balanced my weight, spreading my feet apart. I was all ears. All eyes. All mind. All in.

“Elaborate. Please .”

She shook her head. “It won’t make sense today, but one day. One day it will.”

“Rome,” I paused, “Elaborate.”

Slowly, she took a look around. She kissed the skin of her teeth before she placed her eyes on me again. As if she was ashamed of the words that she was preparing, she withered like an oxygen-deprived flower.

I drew closer, looking down at her. She was far from intimidated. And, intimidation wasn’t my intention. Understanding was.

“Elaborate.”

She exhaled, bringing her palm to her forehead. Her elbow sharpened, sticking out in the opposite direction. She turned away, gathering herself. Shortly after, she turned to face me again.

“We’ve found one another in every other lifetime and this one is no different. It feels familiar because it is. I feel familiar because I am.”

I listened, wanting more. Needing more. Needing something to blame this feeling on.