Page 62 of Tangled Hearts

She stood, falling into his arms. They both cried long and hard.

Her chin wobbled, but she smiled through it. “I got you too… Old Nick.”

Simone scribbled something, then looked up. “That’s the work. It’s not just about what you lost. It’s about what you’re rebuilding. And you both just laid a new brick down.”

Parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It’s about choosing your child, over and over, even when it’s late.

Even when they’re grown. Even when they don’t ask you to.

It’s about owning what you broke and still reaching for the pieces with both hands.

Because kids remember. They don’t need you to be a superhero—they just need to know you would’ve fought for them if you knew how.

And some parents don’t learn how until the damage is already done.

But the ones who come back and stay. The ones who take the long road to redemption and don’t flinch when their child holds a mirror up to them… they still get to matter.

And Nick.

Nick was mattering now.

Knycole sat in her car outside the office after their session ended and Nick went home. Her face was still sticky from her tears.

She wasn’t numb. Just tired of carrying shit that wasn’t hers. Her father’s addiction. Her mama’s death. The ache of being a daughter no one protected.

She loved Hov and Rock because they made her feel like she mattered.

Two different boys. Two different kinds of love. But both filled a hole she was too young to name.

Rock gave her fire. He kissed her with desire. Held her like he would break if she ever let go. It was messy and loud… but it made her feel like she existed.

Hov gave her safety. Laughed with her, showed up even when she was too scared to ask for help.

He looked at her like she was where his world started and ended.

He would change the earth’s orbit if she asked him too.

Hov made her chest ache when he stayed out late.

She learned how to pray just to cover him.

He believed she could truly be any and everything at the same damn time.

His love made her feel sure, certain, and whole.

They both loved her. And that’s where she got it wrong.

She thought broken people didn’t get to choose. That the first people to really see her were the ones she owed herself to.

But love wasn’t supposed to feel like a split. Like tug-of-war. Like guilt and comfort bleeding into each other until you forget who you are without the pull.

She wasn’t a girl who loved two boys.

She was a girl who never learned what love without pain looked like.

Real love shows up in the wreckage and stays when the sun comes out. Picks up the pieces without making you feel like you ruined everything.

That’s what Hov did.

He never asked her to be anything but who she was. Never punished her for being complicated. Never walked out, even when she threw every reason to leave at him. He just stayed. Called her out. Called her in. Loved her all the way.

Knycole didn’t want to be torn anymore.

Her heart had been tangled for so long she forgot what it felt like to breathe without guilt. To choose love without hurting somebody else. To want something and feel like she deserved it.

But loving Hov… wanting his wild soul… craving his laugh and the way his eyes softened only for her… it felt like coming home after running for years.

And maybe that’s what the untangled version of her felt like.

Not perfection. Not answers. Just choosing the one who met her in the mess and said, “we gon’ figure it out.”

That was the lesson.

Love wasn’t clean and it’s not always calm, but it should be safe.

It should never ask you to betray yourself.

And when you find someone who sees every knot, every ugly, twisted, scarred part of you and still chooses to love you through it? That’s when the heart starts to heal.

That’s when the tangles start to loosen.

One piece at a time.

Until all that’s left… is the peace of you.

“Hello!”

“You sleep?” Knycole whispered, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

She’d put Qua in the tub, watched a movie with him and even made brownies. Now, she just wanted to wind down and really put some thought into her next move.

“I answered, didn’t I?” Hov’s voice came out rough, carrying a mix of irritation and fatigue. She could hear the faint rustle of sheets on his end.

She sat up in bed, knees pulling to her chest. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing…”

“Don’t lie, Quameek.” Her tone cut sharper through the line, sass layered heavy in her delivery.

There was a pause, then a loud exhale crackled in her ear. “Why you wanna know? You ain’t gonna do shit ‘bout it.”

Her brows pinched. “How you know?”

“‘Cause you finding yourself, remember?” His voice carried a sting.

“That’s low,” Knycole murmured, her chest tightening. She reached for the end button, thumb hovering. “Good night, Hov.”

“Wait!” His voice jumped. “I’m sorry, kid.”

Her hand froze. She swallowed, letting the air hang. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s all good.”

“It’s not.” A cough escaped him, followed by the faint squeak of a mattress spring. She could picture him sitting up, dragging a hand over his face.

Knycole stretched her legs out, toes curling against the cool sheets. “Then tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You tell me first.” His voice softened, almost like he was bargaining for more time with her.

When it came to Knycole, Hov was always willing to bargain. He’d give this to gain that.

She tapped her finger against her thigh, wondering if she should just let her intrusive thoughts stay in her head. Throwing caution to the wind, she blurted, “you think I can be a doctor?”

The silence that followed made her heart race. She fiddled with the corner of her blanket, chewing her lip.

On his end, Hov cleared his throat. She caught the sound of him shifting again, his chain clinking faintly against his chest. “What kinda question is that? Fuck yea, you can be a doctor.”

Hov thought she could be anything she wanted to be. She was super smart in both the books and the streets.

“You say that, but I don’t know if you mean it.”

“Kid, I ain’t wasting my breath if I don’t mean it. You smart as hell, got the grind, and you care about people even when they don’t deserve it. If that ain’t doctor shit, I don’t know what is.”

Her chest warmed, and she grinned despite herself. “You really think so?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?” He smirked through the phone, and she could hear it.

She giggled, laying back on her pillow. “You irritating.”

“You called me, remember?” He chuckled, the sound rumbling low.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable this time, filled with faint background noises—her AC kicking on, his lighter flicking before he took a drag.

“Hov,” she said softly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“Yea?” Smoke slipped from his lips, though she couldn’t see it.

“You ever think about us? Like, really think about what it’d be if we wasn’t so… messy?”

The line went quiet again, just the sound of him breathing heavily in the receiver. Then his voice dropped. “All the time. That’s the shit that keeps me up.”

Her stomach flipped. “So what we doing?”

“I’m trying not to lose my mind waiting on you to figure it out.” His tone was blunt, not angry—just laced with his truth.

He knew he was contradicting his self because he told her he wasn’t waiting for her anymore but the truth was, Hov would always be waiting for Knycole.

Her lips parted, no words coming right away. His blunt honesty always made her anxious. She pressed the heel of her hand against her eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. You either gon’ let me love you the way I been wanting to, or you gon’ keep finding yourself. But don’t play with me in between.”

Knycole’s throat locked. Her eyes watered, though she forced a laugh to break the weight of it. “Why you always gotta turn shit into a lecture?”

“You asked, didn’t you?” he chuckled back.

Their voices overlapped with small laughs, easing into the comfort they’d always had.

He asked her about her latest exam, she teased him about his diet, he clowned her for still watching corny medical shows for “research.” Before long, they were laughing hard enough to forget where the call started.

But when the laughter died down, the quiet that followed held something deeper. Something both of them were too scared to touch yet.

“Good night, Quameek.”

“Night, kid. Call me tomorrow.”

She smiled against the phone. “We’ll see.”

“Kid,” Hov had something else sitting in his chest that he needed to say. “Therapy must be working.”

“I think so.”

“How long its gon’ take you to find yourself before you come back home?”

“Quameek…”

“Nah. Dead ass.” His voice cracked around the edges, like it wasn’t built to beg, but he was doing it anyway. “How long you want me to be easy? How long you want me to sleep with my eyes open? Dreaming ‘bout you coming back just to hear you say you still ain’t ready?”

Knycole closed her eyes. A tear fell.

He didn’t raise his voice. But it hurt more like this—listening to him try to sound strong when he was barely holding on. He was her wild one. Her mirror. The boy who never folded, now sounding like he didn’t know how to breathe without her.

“Every night I go to sleep, I think maybe tonight gon’ be the last time I pray for you,” he whispered. “But it never is. I still do it. Still ask God to fix whatever’s broken in you that I ain’t strong enough to reach.”

Knycole couldn’t speak. Her throat burned too bad.

“I know you need space to get right. I know you tryna be better. I respect it.” His breath shook on the inhale. “But don’t leave me waiting forever, Knyc. My heart already on one knee.”

Tears slipped down her cheek.

Tears she didn’t wipe away, just let them fall like that’s what she deserved.

Because love didn’t always come with pretty bows. Sometimes it sounded like a boy breaking on the other end of the line, asking for a future he couldn’t touch yet. Sometimes it sounded like Quameek—soft, tired, and still choosing her out loud.

She didn’t know what to say. So she just stayed on the line, breathing with him.

Two tangled hearts, trying to hold the line until they could untwist the knots and finally make it home.