Page 49

CREED

J ailah wasn’t taking this well. Not that I expected her to.

"You’re really gonna do this, Creed?" she scoffed, pacing my living room, her curly blonde hair bouncing with every agitated step. "After a whole year? Over a little argument with your baby mama?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "It’s not an argument, Jailah. You showed up to my daughter’s birthday party uninvited and unannounced, acting a whole fool. That shit was disrespectful as fuck."

She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "No, what’s disrespectful is how you still got that bitch running your life."

I clenched my jaw. "Jailah, watch yo mouth."

"Or what?" she taunted, crossing her arms. "You gonna go running back to her like you always do?"

I exhaled sharply. "Look, this ain’t working. It hasn’t been for a while. We both know it. Let’s just end this shit here and keep it moving."

She stared at me, silent for a long moment before scoffing. "Wow. You really got me out here looking stupid."

I didn’t respond. I was done talking.

Jailah shook her head and grabbed her bag. "You know what? Fuck you, Creed. Fuck you and your baby mama too!" She stormed out, slamming the door behind her, and minutes later?—

The social media meltdown began.

I blocked her on everything. Let her get her shit off. I wasn’t responding. Instead, my focus was on fixing things with Serenity. Except, she wasn’t making that easy. For days, I called. Texted. Nothing.

Every time I went to drop the kids off or pick them up, Ms. June was the only one I saw.

"Serenity still avoiding me?" I asked her when I showed up one evening.

The older woman gave me a pointed look. "I don’t involve myself in y’all’s drama. I just watch the babies."

I sighed. "That’s a yes."

She shrugged. "Wouldn’t blame her if she was."

I didn’t either. I fucked up, and I knew it. But I wasn’t giving up.

"Bro, you fucked up," Nas said bluntly, leaning back on the couch in my man cave.

I groaned, rubbing my hands down my face. "I know, nigga."

Brodie smirked, nursing a glass of whiskey. "You really told Serenity that Gio wasn’t her son? You know how she feel about that boy. Damn, I know that shit hurt her."

"Y’all think I don’t know that?" I snapped, already irritated.

"Well, you not acting like it," Nas muttered. “Ugly ass nigga.”

I clenched my jaw ignoring Nas’s last comment. "I tried to call her. She won’t answer."

Brodie took a sip before saying, "Maybe ‘cause you ain't giving her anything worth answering for?"

I frowned. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Nas grinned. "Nigga, you been playing this push-and-pull game with Serenity for years. You say you want her, then you got a bitch. You say you over her, but now you want your family back. Pick a side."

I scowled, shaking my head. "Nigga, it ain’t that simple?—"

"It is," Brodie cut in. "You know she fuckin’ wit Iman. She told Ari that she forgot how much she liked him. I heard they ass gossiping after I put the twins to bed last night. "

My blood boiled. I gripped my glass tighter. "She what?"

Nas raised an eyebrow. "Why you mad? You get to fuck with other people, but Sis can’t?"

I didn’t answer. Because hell naw she couldn’t. Especially not with him, not when I knew how she felt about him. She wasn’t supposed to move on.

I wasn’t waiting around anymore.

I needed to talk to her.

Not just about us—about everything.

For ten years, we’d been pulling and pushing each other, caught in a cycle of love, pain, and unfinished business. And I was tired.

So I pulled up to her set the day after, determined to end the cycle—one way or another.

When I knocked on her trailer door, she opened it—eyes wide, surprised but not completely caught off guard.

"Creed?" she asked, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

I swallowed. "We need to talk and you didn’t answer my calls, so I decided to pull up on you.” I felt like this was something I was always doing; going to her, meeting her where she was at, giving her the upper hand.

She exhaled sharply, hesitation clear on her face, but she stepped aside. "Come in, I only have a few minutes before I need to be back on set."

Inside, her trailer smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter, the way it always did. She sat on the small couch, folding her legs under her. I stayed standing, hands in my pockets, trying to figure out where to start.

"SB—"

"Don’t," she cut in, rubbing her forehead. "I already know where this is going, Creed."

"Do you?" I challenged.

She gave a tired laugh, shaking her head. "You want your family back, right? That’s why you’re here?"

"Yes," I admitted without hesitation.

She scoffed. "Of course. Because that’s what you do, Creed."

I frowned. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that every time things don’t go your way, every time life humbles you, you come running back to me," she said, staring me down. "Like clockwork."

My jaw clenched. "That’s not fair, SB?—"

"Isn’t it?" she interrupted. "We’ve been doing this for damn near ten years. I mean, look at us, Creed." She gestured between us. "Look at what we’ve been doing. How much longer are we gonna act like this is normal?"

"Because we love each other," I shot back, my voice rising.

She let out a bitter laugh shaking her head. "Love? Love shouldn’t be this hard."

I stepped forward, frustrated now. "It’s hard because we makin it hard."

She stared at me, lips pressing into a thin line. "Or maybe we just aren’t good for each other." That felt like a punch to the gut. I blinked, trying to process what the fuck she just said.

"What?" I whispered.

"Creed, we’ve been through so much bullshit, and here we are, again, having the same damn conversation we had years ago." Her voice wavered slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact. "I don’t wanna keep hurting like this. I don’t wanna keep hurting you."

I dropped down onto the couch next to her, running a hand over my face. "So what, Serenity? That’s it? We just give up?"

She was quiet for a long moment, then whispered, "Did we ever really try?"

I turned to face her, my chest tightening. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Creed, when have we ever just been together without some kind of drama? Without something pulling us apart?"

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have an answer. Because she was right. Every time we’d tried to be together, there was always something—Gianna, Jailah, Iman, distance, pride, pain.

"Maybe we’re just not meant to be," she murmured.

That was it. That was the sentence that broke me. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "Baby, don’t say that."

She pulled her hand away. "Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?"

I shook my head, refusing to accept that. "No. It’s not."

She sighed again, looking away. "I just wanna be happy, Creed. And if you really love me like you say you do, you’d want that for me too."

"I do," I whispered. “I swear to God I fuckin’ do. You know I love you baby.”

She turned back to me, her brown eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite read. "Then you need to set me free."

I froze. The words ripped through me, leaving me breathless. "Serenity…"

My voice was hoarse, strained.

She gave me a soft, sad smile. "You have to let me go.

" I clenched my fists, fighting back everything in me that wanted to say ‘no’.

But looking at her, seeing how tired she was, how done she seemed…

I knew she meant it, she was done with us.

And it destroyed me. For the first time in ten years, I had nothing to say.

I was lying in bed thinking about the conversation I’d had with Serenity weeks ago. We were on a road trip, one of our last games before the playoffs.

Set me free.

Those words echoed in my head. I wanted to give her what she wanted, but I couldn’t.

There was nothing and no one that would ever convince me that Serenity and I didn’t love each other, so very much.

She was meant to be my wife; she was meant to be the mother of all of my children. I wanted her, needed her, craved her.

Whenever I walked into a room my eyes automatically looked for her. Whenever I heard a joke, I looked to see if she thought it was funny too. There’s no way God didn’t intend for her to be with me. Not with the way he allowed me to love her.

Before I could dwell on it, my phone started buzzing letting me know I was getting a call. I grabbed it from the nightstand next to the bed and saw it was my mama. It was late here in Atlanta, almost 2AM, so I knew whatever it was, couldn’t be good.

“What’s up Ma?”

"Creed…" she sniffled.

I immediately sat up. "Ma? What’s wrong?"

"It’s your grandfather, baby. He’s in the hospital. You need to come home."

The next morning, instead of flying home with the team, I took the first flight to Dallas. When I walked into his hospital room, I barely recognized him.

Joseph Monroe was the strongest man I knew. Even when he wasn’t saying much, even when he let his presence do all the talking—he was solid. A leader, a teacher, a father to me in ways no other man had ever been. And now, lying in this hospital bed, he looked so… small.

I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t fix this.

"Look at you, kid," he rasped, his voice weaker than I’d ever heard it. "All grown up."

I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and forced out a smile. "Always been grown, Pop. You just never wanted to admit it."

His laugh was barely there, but it was enough. "You might be big now, Creed, but I still see that little boy with them big ol’ eyes following me around, begging to hold a wrench."

A small chuckle slipped out of me. "I just wanted to be like you."

He smiled, proud. "And look at you now. You did even better than me."

I shook my head. "Don’t do that."

His hand gripped mine, tighter than I expected. "I mean it, son. You made something of yourself. And you still got so much more to do."

The weight of his words hit me hard. I couldn’t picture a life without him in it. I didn’t want to. "You gotta promise me something," he murmured.

I nodded quickly, not even knowing what it was yet. "Anything, Pop."

His eyes softened, but there was a deep seriousness behind them. "You take care of your mama," he said. "She’s gonna need you when I’m gone."

I clenched my jaw. "Stop talkin’ like that."

"Creed—"

"No," I cut him off, voice thick. "You ain’t gone yet."

His hand tightened around mine again, stronger this time, like he was trying to ground me. "I know that. But when my time comes, I need to know you’ll be there for her."

I could barely see straight from the burn in my eyes, but I nodded. "I got her, Pop. I swear."

He nodded slowly, as if he was satisfied with my answer. "Good."

A silence settled between us, but it wasn’t empty. It was full of every lesson he’d ever taught me, every memory we had, every time he was there when I needed him. Finally, he spoke again, his voice lower.

"And don’t be a fool about that girl." I blinked, confused for a second before I realized—he was talking about Serenity.

I opened my mouth, but he shook his head before I could say anything. "I see it all over you, son. You love her, a lot. I can see why, she’s…charming, she’s definitely good for you. You just need to get out of your own way with her."

I exhaled, running a hand over my face. "It’s not that simple."

He smiled, the same knowing smile he always gave me when he thought I was being stubborn. "Love ain’t supposed to be simple. It’s supposed to be worth it."

I stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"Son," he continued, his voice growing even weaker, "don’t waste your life waiting for the right moment. If you love her—go get her."

I nodded, swallowing the emotion that threatened to choke me whole. Suddenly, his grip loosened. His eyes started to drift.

"Pop," I whispered.

He smiled one last time. "See you on the other side, kid."

And then—He was gone.

I stayed frozen, staring at his face, hoping andpraying that he’d open his eyes one more time. But he didn’t.

My chest ached, something deep, raw and unbearable twisting inside me. I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was suddenly in the hallway sliding down the wall and I hit the ground. My head lowered solemnly, phone in my hand, my fingers shaking so badly I could barely hit the call button.

She answered on the second ring. "Creed?" I opened my mouth, but the words got stuck. "Creed…?" she repeated, her voice soft, cautious.

Then, I broke, tears rushing down my face. "He’s gone," I choked out.

Silence, so much fucking silence but not really. It felt like the entire world was moving around me and I was stuck in one place. I didn’t know how to function, I needed her to help me function.

And then, barely above a whisper, she said— "I’m on my way."