Page 43 of Tangled Hearts

PART III: UNRAVELED LOVE

“You know how to hurt me so good!” Noir sung at the top of her lungs while sitting with her legs crossed in the middle of one of Hov’s guest beds.

She was beyond hurt and no matter how much she tried to downplay it, it kept leaking from her eyes in a never-ending trail of grief.

Shaking her head, Knycole inhaled the blunt, letting it seep out slowly.

She felt her friend and wanted to make it better but she kept replaying Hov’s words about her not wanting his heart.

Knycole wanted his heart more than anything in the world but she also wanted Rock’s—at least to fix his since she felt responsible for fucking it up.

“I need therapy,” Knycole mumbled between Summer Walker’s Session 38 that Noir was now singing off key.

Rolling her eyes, Noir held her hand out for the weed. “How is this about you?”

“I never said it was about me but damn I can’t have some self-reflection?”

“Not in this moment. My heart is hurting,” Noir’s voice came out muffled from the smoke.

Knycole sat up. “How when you’re over there texting Cash? How are you hurting?”

“How the fuck are you self-reflecting when you made your bed? It’s messy, but yours to lay in.”

Head jerking back, Knycole’s mouth dropped. “Do you even love Christian?”

“As much as you love Rock,” Noir snapped back still unfazed by the change in energy between her and the only girl she was willing to claim as a sister. “Yea, see how that shit works?’

“What are you even talking about? Like what the fuck Noir, if you got something to say, just say that shit!”

“If only it was that easy,” Noir sighed, fueling Knycole’s bubbling rage. “Do you love Rock?”

“Why not ask about Hov?”

“Because I know the answer to that shit. Hell, everybody does. Probably even Rock… if he was being honest.” Noir shrugged, pulling on the blunt again.

The high made her feel better while also intensifying the feeling of betrayal.

She loved Christian. Saw a future with him, but now that was out the window.

Some things were unforgivable and if she wasn’t a sore loser, she would’ve cut ties.

However, the thought of Chanta winning had Noir wanting to string him along just because she knew she could.

“Let’s lay this all out on the table. Tell me how dumb I am and how I can’t get this love shit right,” Knycole jumped up, pacing the floor, hands flying in the air as she talked.

“Oh you got it right,” Noir rolled her eyes.

“Did a reverse, delete, and some more weird shit but you got it right. I’m just trying to figure out how the fuck you fumble some good shit like that?

Like how do you let Hov walk away? Him ?

Quameek … the nigga that sent your daddy to rehab to help heal your heart.

The nigga that loves on you like you’re his everything.

And don’t get me started on how good of a father he is.

” Noir got a little choked up thinking about Hov and just how great of a person he is.

“The man that will die for you… said I could have his heart because his bro—his homie broke mine. How do you do him like that?”

Noir was a mess now. Tears she was unable to catch running down her face. Knowing that Hov was probably in his room alone nursing an aching heart, trumped her own sorrows.

Knycole grabbed her own chest. “Noir…”

“No,” she shook her head. “You really did him wrong and now he’s alone. No you, and no Rock—but I can’t put that Rock shit on you. Hov did that to himself.”

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix it.”

Shaking her head, Noir agreed. “No, you can’t fix it. But I’m about to go.”

There was no need for Noir to continue. She had a ride to catch and a heart to mend.

Using the back of her hand, Knycole wiped her face. “Where you going?”

Noir kissed her teeth. “If you must know… with Cash.” She held her hand up to stop whatever Knycole was prepared to say. “I keep telling you I ain’t like you. I like revenge, justice, and whatever else will make me feel better.”

Knycole snorted a conniving laugh. “Oh, you’re more like me than you know. You like all those things but what happens when Cash likes more? Huh? What happens when he’s playing for keeps while you’re just playing?”

“Girl, please. You just talking because I told you about yourself.” Noir pursed her lips. “Don’t worry about me, boo. Just get your coochie in check and love on my boy like you’re supposed to. Ain’t no need for the sheisty shit if you ain’t gonna make that shit worth it.”

Knycole just stood there, soaking in all the slick talk Noir had for her. There was nothing left for Knycole to say, because she did need to get her shit in check. Needed to get her soul in order.

Order?

What even was that?

Order wasn’t just cleaning up your room or making neat lines out of mess. Order was soul work. It was discipline. It was telling the truth when lying felt easier. It was boundaries when your heart wanted to fold. Knycole had never known order… never stared that hoe in the face.

Chaos was what raised her. Disappointment was what shaped her. Love. Crooked, cracked, reckless love. That was what kept her breathing. But order? That was foreign. That was the thing she kept running from, the thing that kept her repeating the same cycles.

Order was scary because it meant accountability. It meant she couldn’t blame Rock’s hurt or Hov’s silence, or even her father’s early absence. It meant the mirror was hers to look into, and the reflection had no excuses.

Noir didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she walked out the room, letting the smoke creep into the hall.

Hov’s new home was massive in size and even bigger in loneliness. The ceilings stretched high. The marble floors gleamed, but they echoed when you walked across them, like the house was reminding you of how empty it really was.

The furniture was minimal, just enough for Qua to be comfortable.

A sectional in the living room, a dining table that had never been eaten on.

The walls were bare. No pictures, no memories, just blank space daring him to fill it.

The only warmth lived in Qua’s artwork pinned to the industrial-size refrigerator.

Every corner smelled like money. New leather, polished wood, and fresh paint. But it didn’t smell like home. The closets were full, but the house was hollow. All that space, all that silence, and not a single soul to share it with.

Noir slowed her pace, her eyes dragging across the hollow space.

Money had put Hov in a palace, but it couldn’t give him peace.

It made her chest ache, because she loved him like a brother, and she hated seeing him like this.

So good at fixing everyone else yet drowning in silence he couldn’t fix for himself.

It was unfair. Borderline cruel that somebody like him had everything except the one thing he deserved the most.

Love.

By the time Noir stepped outside, she had wiped her face clean. Cash was leaned up against his car, head dipped while he and Hov traded quiet words. Both men looked up when she pushed through, her heels clicking against the stone.

Hov’s eyes narrowed. “You playin’ a dangerous game, Noir.”

She tapped his chest. “Ain’t that what life is?”

“Not really,” Cash spoke up.

Noir glared at him, almond eyes turning into slits, head cocked to the side. “But you’re here… looks like you like a little danger.”

“You’re the fuckin’ danger.”

“Glad you know.” Noir blew Cash a kiss.

Knycole had finally unstuck herself and made her way outside.

Noir smiled, making her way to her bestie. “You want honesty, Knyc?” she asked, tilting her head. “Order ain’t what you need. What you need is to stop confusing men who need fixing with men who can actually love you.”

“I hear you,” Knycole mumbled too emotional to get into another truth sparing match with Noir. “You be good.”

Noir looked from Knycole to Hov. “You be nasty… freak nasty.”

Knycole kissed her on the cheek while laughing.

Noir got in the car once Cash held the door open for her. It just so happened he was in town and didn’t hesitate to pull up on her.

As they pulled off, Knycole gulped. “Um, are you taking me home?”

Hov walked past her, eyes low—probably from smoking. “It’s plenty of rooms… pick a bed and take yo’ ass to sleep, kid.”

She sucked her teeth but moseyed behind him into his house that didn’t feel like hers. That was a new feeling for Knycole. Even before their love bloomed, Hov made everything he had feel like it was hers too.

Now, he had her out in the cold—rightfully so.

Like Noir said, this was the bed that she made so she had to be the one to cry herself to sleep in it. At least until she found some order.

“Aye, you think you can cook something? Nigga got the munchies like hell,” Hov asked, rubbing his belly.

His eyes hung low, movements slow, but his lips moving had Knycole in a trance.

“You be looking at me like it’s all love but shit…

” he gripped the back of his neck. “Ain’t no love there, for real. ”

How he went from food to pouring his heart out, he didn’t know. Probably just high.

“Don’t say that,” Knycole fussed. “I love you so much.”

“So much that you left me cold in the world… nigga just out here.”

Her mouth hung open. “Hov…”

“Nah,” he stopped her. “I ain’t trying to make you feel bad or no shit like that. Shit, I’m just high.” He pushed his hand across his face again. “But on that food?”

Wetting her lips, Knycole wanted to unpack his revelation but decided to glaze over it. That was easier. Her shit wasn’t in order yet. “Do you even have food in here?”

“Man, stop playing with me like Qua ain’t here most of the time. I got food.” He smiled, lightening the mood.