Page 68 of Yearn

My knuckles whitened on the wheel. “Yeah. . .I’ve been thinking about that too. . .”

Ro softened her voice. “Yes, it’s dangerous, but it’s also healing. Don’t let Cadence shame you out of exploring yourself. You’ve been in a cage so long you forgot what it feels like to have wings. Let this boy remind you. Carefully and privately, sure, until you get your divorce, but let Dominic take care of you.”

Cadence huffed. “At least wait until the divorce is over. It’s too messy.”

“I don’t want to do messy.” I shook my head as I took the road toward my firm. They continued to debate what I should do and their voices tangled in my ears like gospel and devil music, and in some strange way, I loved them both for it.

By the time I rolled into the parking lot, my girls were still bickering—Ro saying “power exchange” like it was scripture, Cadence saying “family court” like it was revelation.

I eased up to the security gate, fished my badge from my bag, and waved it at the guard.

He gave me the usual nod.

Sliding past the barrier, I finally cut them off. “Alright. Alright. I’m at work. I’m going to have to go soon.”

Cadence sighed. “Teyonah. . .listen. You know I love you. I love your kids. I love your heart. But this. . .this is messy.”

I swallowed, but the smile stayed on my lips. Because the truth was, messy or not, telling them had felt good.

Like opening a window after a storm and letting the cool breeze come in.

My voice was lighter.

My chest looser.

The shame that had been trying to choke me all morning?

It lost its grip once I said the words out loud and my friends didn’t hang up on me.

Sure, I could hear the judgment woven between Cadence’s syllables. I knew that tone—sweet but heavy, the same one she used when she told teens in her program that God forgives but don’t do it again.

Still, it came from a place of love.

I knew if Scott ever tried some shit, Cadence would be the first one to show up at court with me, Bible in one hand and a character witness statement in the other.

And Ro?

Lord.

Ro wasn’t going to judge me. She’d hype me up until I was convinced I was the patron saint of side dick.

I slid into my usual spot, killed the engine, and sat for a second with their voices still echoing in my ears. “Messy or not, it feltgood to tell y’all. You two are the only ones I can talk to about this.”

“Of course.” Cadence’s voice softened. “We love you, Tey. You know that.”

“Damn right,” Ro added. “You could call me from the backseat of a cop car, screaming about how you robbed a bank with your titties out, and I’d still say, ‘That’s my girl, I’ll be there with bail money!’”

I laughed again, but the sound cracked in the middle. Because behind the humor was a real truth: they loved me. And that love gave me a safe place to land, even if I was diving headfirst into fire.

Cadence cleared her throat. “So. . .do you want any more advice or do you want us to just listen and hype you up?”

“Both,” I admitted.

Ro jumped in first. “Okay. Here’s my advice: ride him. Ride him like the mortgage is due, girl. You been starving for this kind of attention for too long. Your husband gave you nothing but gray hair and stress lines. Dominic is handing you orgasms and roses before breakfast. This is reparations for being married to a narcissist.”

Cadence groaned again. “Ignore Ro. She’s crazy.”

“I’m prophetic,” Ro corrected.