Page 4 of The Millionaire Mortician

A s I’m stirring the oatmeal, my head is buried in my phone.

My girls and I had our group chat lit first thing in the morning.

I wasn’t saying much but laughing at their text.

All three of them did something the night before with their man or situation.

I was the only one home alone, missing Milan as usual.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to be in a relationship with Milan. When we met, he did tell me he was a very busy person and that his career was demanding. I understood him, but I also believed we would’ve made things work if we both wanted to.

Originally from Atlanta, Georgia, I agreed to move to Brooklyn to be with him. I had no kids, no real obligations, or anything of that nature that would’ve kept me in Atlanta. I was in love almost instantly with Milan’s dark, laid-back sense of humor, so I was ready to do whatever for him.

Things were good in the beginning. We spent time together when we both weren’t busy — him with his funeral home and me cutting hair.

I was a celebrity barber and frequently traveled, but when we got serious, I scaled back my gigs to ensure I was available to him when he was free.

Our schedules started to clash, and I saw staying home was the best thing to do. Milan agreed.

My goal was marriage and building a family, so my mindset was to do whatever it took to achieve that.

Although I missed cutting hair, all my needs and wants were taken care of by Milan.

I also made sure to tuck away for rainy days.

My mother always told me to put something aside because you never know what will happen.

Another text came through.

Talina: Daija, you’re quiet as hell. Let me guess, Milan’s ass was working late last night again?

I bit my lip and rolled my eyes at the text. Not because she clocked my tea, but because all I wanted was my man.

Me: The usual. I’m good, though.

I texted back and lied.

Talina: I’m free until two. I’m coming over.

Tremeka: Me too.

Jada: Fuck it. It’s a party then.

My girls definitely picked up on my energy, and that’s why I loved them. We all paid attention to each other and were attentive. If I didn’t have them, I probably would’ve gone mad already.

I heard footsteps coming my way as I made Milan’s plate. Seconds later, he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, just standing there staring at me.

“Good morning, baby,” I greeted him.

He silently walked up, grabbed me by the back of my neck gently, and kissed my forehead. “Good morning, baby girl.”

That man was the sweetest I’ve ever met when he wanted to be.

Other times, he was standoffish, cold, and I didn’t know what was running through his mind.

I learned just to give him his space when he got in a certain mood.

One thing, though. He never abused me mentally or physically, so I knew whatever had him in his quiet mode was a him thing.

“Here’s your breakfast.” I slid it in front of him as he took a seat at the island. He didn’t waste any time digging in and stuffing his mouth.

About ten minutes later, after I finished washing the dishes and cleaning up, Milan was getting ready to head out. I walked him to the door, kissed him goodbye, and told him I loved him.

As I watched him get into his vehicle, I saw a black Tahoe pull out right after him.

It was either Don or Qua inside. They were his bodyguards but never stayed stuck under him.

The way they worked was cool. They kept their distance to give him space but stayed close enough to get to him if something was supposed to pop off.

As I closed the door, I said a silent prayer for God to watch over Milan while he was out in the world, and to bring him back home safely. Making my way upstairs, I went to get myself together for when the girls arrived.

I had the mimosa pitcher sitting dead center on my glass table, with a fruit platter on one side and shrimp and grits on the other. My girls knew that when I said ‘brunch at my spot’ I meant it.

The doorbell rang, and before I answered, I checked the monitor that showed the security cameras. Once I saw it was Talina, I yelled and told Nadia to go ahead and answer the door.

Moments later, Talina was already in my kitchen before the door even clicked shut behind her. “Sis, these shrimp smell like the Lord touched ‘em,” she sang.

Talina has been my best friend since my teenage years.

We grew up in Atlanta together for most of our lives.

When she started getting booked mostly in New York City to do hair, she decided to take a leap of faith and move to the Big Apple.

So, when I told her I was moving a year ago, she was more than ecstatic.

I also felt comfortable knowing I had someone close to me there.

“Mmmhmm, you know he did.” I turned around and winked at her.

We embraced each other like we hadn’t just seen one another two days ago, but that was our kind of friendship — always showing love.

A few minutes later, Tremeka and Jada pulled up, loud as ever, as they walked into the kitchen. We hadn’t even poured mimosas yet, and Jada was already spilling the tea. “Wait ‘til I tell y’all what this man did last night,” she stated.

I laughed as I handed everyone a glass, then we made our way into the lounge area of the house.

They all dove straight into relationship talk like they’d been holding their words hostage all week.

Tremeka was mad at her man for forgetting her birthday dinner.

Jada was bragging about how her situationship had been “Cash Appin’ her every other day.

Talina was, well, she stayed trying to act like she didn’t care about anybody, yet she always had the most advice to give.

When it circled back to me, they all gave me that look, like, spill it, sis.

I sipped my mimosa slowly, trying to dodge the attention, but Talina hit me with that side-eye. “Daija, don’t start that hush-mouth shit. How are you and Milan doin’?”

I exhaled heavily. “Look, y’all know I love that man and his dirty draws.

He’s damn near perfect. He keeps the bills handled, he doesn’t let me lift a finger, and the sex is always fire.

The best I ever had.” I fanned myself, and they all hollered.

“But...” I dragged the word out, “He doesn’t give me that quality time I need.

Like, he’s there, but he’s not there. Y’all feel me? ”

“Always,” Jada agreed with her eyes wide like she had been through it.

“It’s like Milan provides, he protects, he blows my back out every time he touches me, but still.

..” I shook my head, trying to put it into words.

“Something is missing. I want that sit-on-the-couch-and-watch-movies-for-no-reason type of vibe. Or even just him asking how my day was. Not just dropping off Chanel bags like that’s supposed to fill the space. ”

“Shit, I’ll take the Chanel bags,” Tremeka blurted out, making us all laugh.

Talina leaned forward, her nails tapping the glass.

“Sis, you know what that sounds like to me? You need something to occupy your time again. You sitting at home waiting on his attention will drive you crazy. Start back working and doing what you love. Get you a little distraction, so when he’s too busy, you’re too busy too. ”

Staring at her, I took in all of her words, and it actually made sense. I was living in Milan’s world, orbiting around his schedule, his grind, and his rules.

“Damn,” I muttered. “You’re right. I ain’t even realize how much I just paused my own life.”

“You still got your clippers, right?” Tremeka chimed in. “Girl, you could get right back in with your old clients.”

“Exactly,” Jada added. “You used to kill that shit. The men are still asking ‘bout you.”

I laughed, feeling low-key flattered. “I see what y’all are doing. Y’all are tryna gas me up.”

“Nah, we’re keepin’ it real,” Talina stated, her voice firm but loving.

“Milan’s gon’ always be Milan. He’s a provider, a hustler, and that man’s built for the grind.

However, you need your own lane, baby. Don’t sit around waiting on his love language to change when you could be filling your own cup. ”

I sat there quietly for a second, letting everything sink in. She was right. I was complaining about what Milan wasn’t giving me, but I haven’t been giving myself anything either.

“You know what?” I finally spoke, a smile creeping onto my lips. “I’ma do it. I’ma talk to Milan tonight about my working again. I’ll let him know I love him, but I gotta make some moves, too. I need something that’s mine. As a matter of fact, let me text him suggesting dinner later.”

I quickly unlocked my phone and opened our message thread.

Me: Hi, baby. We haven’t gone out in a while. Let’s do dinner somewhere tonight.

Closing my phone, I rested it down beside me and exhaled.

My girls all clapped and cheered as if we had just made a pact. Talina raised her glass. “To Daija gettin’ back in her bag.” We all clinked glasses and raised our glasses in a toast.

For the rest of our brunch, we talked, laughed, ate, drank, threw shade, and gossiped. That was the thing about our girls’ time together. Sometimes it was just jokes and mimosas, while other times it was life checks we didn’t know we needed, and that day I got mine.

My phone vibrated against my thigh. When I checked, it was a message from Milan.

My Milly: Say less, make reservations, and send me the details.

Perfect, I smiled.

Later that evening, I slipped on a sexy, fitted black dress that hugged my body properly.

I wasn’t the curviest woman. Hell, I barely had ass or breasts.

I was shaped like a square and built like a damn teenager, but when I put that shit on, I looked good.

It was one reason I loved going out. It was my turn to play dress-up and look good for my man.

Once I picked the restaurant and made the reservations, I sent all the information to Milan. He decided to meet me there straight from work, which I didn’t mind, so that we could make it on time. Milan had an entire closet of suits and a bathroom in his massive office for reasons just like this.

As I stepped out into the fall weather, the valet handed me my ticket, and I made my way inside of Gabriel Kreuther, a high-end restaurant in the city. The hostess showed me to my table right away, and to my surprise, Milan was already there waiting.

He stood to his feet as we approached. “You look good as fuck,” he growled in my ear.

His voice sent chills down my spine.

“Thank you. You look fine yourself.”

We pecked each other’s lips, then he helped me be seated like a true gentleman.

The restaurant was low-lit. Candles flickered off the wine glasses, and soft jazz played in the background.

Milan looked good as hell across from me in his tailored black suit jacket, with his watch glinting every time he lifted his glass.

That man knew how to dress. I swear, half the time I just stared at him and wondered how he even picked me.

Quickly shaking my thoughts, I got my mind back on track with the task at hand. I wasn’t going to allow myself to get distracted by his smile or how deep his voice sounded when he ordered the steak. I had something to say, and I was going to be heard.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Milan commented, brows lifting as he cut into his steak. “Is everything straight?”

I twirled my straw in the peach Bellini sitting in front of me, giving myself a second. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“Hmmm.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “That sounds like trouble.”

“Nah, not trouble.” I shook my head. “It’s just... I realized I’ve been sitting around too much. All my days are consistent with me waiting for you to get free, and then when you are busy, I’m just in the house, bored and overthinking.”

He tilted his head, studying me. “You sayin’ I don’t give you enough time?”

“I’m saying I want something of my own again. Something like cutting hair the way I used to. I want a reason to get dressed in the morning besides Target runs.” I leaned forward. “I wanna start back working, baby.”

Milan sat there with the knife and fork, pausing mid-air. For a second, I thought he was going to shut everything down and continue eating, but he set down the utensils slowly and wiped his mouth. “Work?” he asked, scrunching up his face in confusion.

“Yeah.” I nodded, my heart racing like I had run a marathon, but I kept my voice calm. “I love how you take care of me, Milan. You treat me amazingly. You’re my protector, my provider, my man, but I don’t wanna just sit home watching the days go by. I need to get active with my life.”

Milan didn’t answer right away. He just stared at me as if he were weighing a thousand things in his head.

He then sipped his drink and leaned in closer.

“You know I don’t like the idea of you stressing over no job when I got us.

However, if it’s what you need to feel a certain way, then I can’t tell you no. ”

Relief rushed through me, but I still searched his face for certainty. “So you’re cool with it?”

“I ain’t gon’ lie. A part of me doesn’t like it. I like knowing you’re safe and comfortable with no worries. But...” He reached across the table and slid his hand over mine. “I also want you to be happy. If work’s gon’ do that, then fuck it. Just don’t let it pull you away from me.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand back. “Never that. I just wanna feel like I’m moving, too. Not just watching you move.”

Milan sat there quietly for a moment as if he were deep in thought. “What are your plans? Are you going back to working shows again, or do you plan to go into a shop and cut?” he inquired.

Honestly, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. That was a great question that had my mind thinking almost immediately.

“I’m not sure,” I answered.

Milan cleared his throat and sat up in his seat. “How about this? I’ll give you one hundred thousand to do your own thing. Open your own shop, be your own boss. This way, you can move how you want to move. It’s long overdue anyway,” he offered.

I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach as tears threatened to fall. “Bae, no, you don’t?—”

“It’s done, Daija,” he spoke sternly.

The tears finally started to fall. “I love you,” I expressed.

He grabbed hold of my hand again. “I love you too, shorty.”

We clinked glasses across the table, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like we were finally on the same page.