𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈➤𝟥
𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁*𝖲𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾*𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗑 𝖡𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒－After leaving her insecure boyfriend, she drops their son off with her ex-husband, Smoke Moore. What starts with petty jokes and tension turns into a quiet dinner and a reminder of the love they never lost. She’s not ready to come back—but she’s not running anymore either. This time, it might really be a second chance.
𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌－𝖧𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗁 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾，𝖭－𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾，𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝖾𝗑 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾，𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋
𝖠／𝖭－ 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗂 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌
You didn’t yell this time.
You didn’t cry.
Didn’t beg.
Didn’t even finish the argument.
You just stood there, watching your now-ex-boyfriend rant about “boundaries” and “respect,” voice getting higher with every mention of your baby daddy’s name.
“Why he still calling you late?”
“Why he know where we live?”
“You still wearin’ that chain he gave you, huh?”
He wanted to act brand new, like he didn’t know what it was when he met you. Like he didn’t know Elijah “Smoke” Moore was always gonna be in your life, because the man gave you a son, not a phase.
You slammed the door before you let yourself cry.
You didn’t want your son to hear you. Didn’t want him to see another man—a temporary one—make you feel like you were hard to love just because you expected the bare minimum.
“Why you always bringing up Smoke?”
“Why you let him call whenever he want?”
“You still his, huh?”
That’s what your now-ex said tonight, mid-argument, veins jumping in his neck while he stood in front of the microwave heating your leftovers and accusing you of emotional cheating.
You didn’t answer. You just stared at him with that old numb feeling spreading through your chest—the same one you got when Smoke left the first time.
Except Smoke never made you feel small.
He made you feel full. Like, even when y’all were fighting, he saw you.
Yeah. That was your cue to leave.
Because maybe you did.
And even if you didn’t—he didn’t deserve to say Smoke’s name like it tasted sour. Not when Smoke was the one who still answered at 2 a.m. when your tire blew. Not when Smoke still paid for daycare when your boyfriend’s check “didn’t hit right.”
You texted smoke
“He ready. Droppin’ him off in 20.”
And Smoke, petty prince that he was, replied exactly how you expected.
“Cool. I’ll be outside. Don’t wear nothin’ you don’t want me lookin’ at.”
You almost threw your phone.
⸻
When you pulled up, the porch light was already on.
Smoke was standing out front like a whole damn problem—black hoodie, Black tee. Chain glinting in the porch light. Tatts peeking out the sleeves. Joggers, fresh cut, chain out like he knew what it did to you. He had that little smirk, too. The one that lived somewhere between “I told you so” and “You still mine, stop playin’.”
Stack was in a lawn chair with white tee, socks, and slides, eating chips straight from the bag.
“Look at this,” Stack said when you stepped out, voice too loud and too amused. “Lil Miss Sunshine done left her tax-return king and came back to the kingdom.”
“I’m just sayin’—where ol’ boy at? The emotional support boyfriend? What happened, y’all break up over oat milk again?”
“Don’t start,” you warned.
“Nah, I already started. That man got upset you wasn’t laughin’ at his affirmations? Or did he realize you been dressin’ too good to be sad for him?”
Smoke chuckled, deep and smug. “She left him, bruh.
You sighed and handed Smoke the overnight bag. “Y’all are the most annoying pair of grown-ass men I’ve ever met.”
Smoke chuckled low and stepped forward to grab the overnight bag. “Ignore him. He mad his baby mama cut his Netflix off.”
Stack looked offended. “First of all, we was sharin’ bills. Second of all, this ain’t about me—it’s about her fake-woke man who thought aromatherapy was gon’ keep her from comin’ back.”
You shook your head. “Stack, shut up.”
“I’ma shut up,” he said, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. But if that man show up at this door talkin’ ‘bout ‘peace and growth,’ I’m puttin’ sage in his gas tank.
Stack leaned in like he was whispering to the wind. “She left that man wearin’ this? Oh yeah, you foul. You came over here knowin’ you was somebody’s regret.”
“Stack!” you snapped.
“What?! I’m just speakin’ truth!”
Your son darted up the steps and into the house with a quick hug and a wave. “Bye, Mommy!”
You turned to leave, but Smoke stepped forward, slow, casual. “You ate already eaten?”
“No,” you muttered, adjusting your keys. “Why?”
Smoke shrugged. “Cause I wanna feed you, Come on”
You blinked. “I didn’t say I was going anywhere with you.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say you wasn’t either.”
He leaned in, voice lower now. “Let me feed you, mama. You already dressed for me anyway.”
You hesitated. “We just fought. I’m not really in the mood to—”
“I ain’t ask what mood you in,” he cut in, gently. “I’m tellin’ you, come eat with me. Let me remind you what it feel like to sit across from somebody who don’t get intimidated by the fact you strong and sexy at the same time.”
He stepped closer.
“Let me show you the difference between temporary… and permanent.”
Stack snickered,“ Man, looks like he still asks his mama if he can go outside.”
You groaned. “Fine. Let’s go. Before he gets worse.”
Smoke opened the passenger side door for you, hand warm on your lower back. “He already at rock bottom. im just savin’ you from hearin’ more slander.”
“Too late,” Stack muttered. “I hope that kombucha lover didn't get too comfortable.“
Smoke gave him a look. “Mind ya damn business.”
Stack raised his hands. “It is my business when I watched her date a Build-A-Bear with a finance podcast.”
You rolled your eyes, but your mouth twitched.
⸻
𝖣𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋
The restaurant was quiet, warm lighting casting gold shadows across Smoke’s face. You hadn’t been here before—somewhere low-key, classy, tucked in a corner of the city where the drinks were strong and the service was slow on purpose.
Smoke sat across from you, all arms and quiet confidence, sipping whiskey neat like he had nowhere to be but here, with you.
“You good?” he asked, after your third sigh.
You nodded. “Just… been a day.”
“Been a long month,” he corrected. “Hell, a long-ass year.”
You met his eyes.
“You know I didn’t leave you ‘cause I stopped loving you, right?”
He didn’t blink. “Yeah.”
“I just got tired of hurting myself trying to stay.”
“I know,” he said. Then leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But that ain’t gon’ happen again. Not if we do it right this time.”
Your lip trembled a little, but you fought it down. “You always say that.”
“I mean it this time.”
“You said that too.”
“I got our son askin’ why we don’t live in the same house no more,” he murmured, voice low and tired. “I got Stack sending me your Instagram story like, ‘Why she look single again?’ I ain’t got no more excuses left, baby. I just got this moment.”
“Why now?” you asked.
Smoke just blinked at you. “Why not now?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Seriously, Elijah.”
He licked his lips. ’Cause I’m tired of watchin’ you settle. Tired of seein’ him fumble you and pretend like you hard to love just ‘cause you don’t shrink for nobody.”
He sighed. “You been dimmin’ your light tryna make a boy feel like a man. That ain’t you. You ain’t supposed to be explainin’ your worth to nobody.”
Your breath caught.
“I been quiet long enough,” he said, voice low and steady. “I let you go, tryna be the better man. That got me nowhere. So now I’m just gon’ be me. And that version of me? Still want his family.”
You looked down at your drink.
“I just left somebody. I’m not tryna run back.”
“I ain’t ask you to run back,” Smoke said. “I’m askin’ you to let me remind you why leavin’ and listening to so-called family broke both of us.”
You still remember your breaking point, backhanded comments from his family on his birthday, you made him his favorite food.
𝖥𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄
It was Smoke’s birthday, and you’d made his favorite meal. Ribs slow-cooked in the oven. Mac and cheese with five cheeses. Greens with turkey neck. You even made a cake.
But his aunties came over uninvited, already half-drunk and full of opinions.
“Aww, that’s cute,” Aunt LaShonda had said, looking at your spread. “Y’all still playin’ house?”
You smiled politely. “It’s his birthday. I wanted to do something special.”
“Mm,” she’d hummed. “You always tryin’ to prove you wife material. Ain’t no ring on that finger yet though, huh?”
Your chest burned. Smoke had been dragging his feet, but you thought you understood him. You thought you were working toward the same future.
He walked in right then, laughing at something Stack said. Didn’t even notice the silence in the kitchen.
You didn’t say anything that night.
But something shifted.
Or when you cried to your mom while she rocked Ej to sleep, “You keep lettin’ that man come and go like this, he gon’ think the door always open,” she said gently. “And baby, I raised you better than that.”
But you also knew you loved him in a way that made everything hard.
𝖤𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄
You stared at your drink, then at his hand across the table.
You didn’t take it.
But you didn’t move away when he reached for your fingers either.
⸻
𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖭𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳
You pulled up just after ten. Stack was stretched across the couch, scrolling TikTok, eyes red.
“Look who made it back without throwin’ her drawers in the glovebox.”
You gave him a look. “You’re high.”
“Nah. Just celebratory. I told Smoke you was gon’ come to your senses eventually.”
Smoke walked in behind you, hands in his hoodie pocket. “He snorin’?”
“Like a grown man with a job,” Stack said. “That boy is out.”
You tiptoed into the living room and peeked at your son, curled up with his blanket and stuffed dinosaur. Safe. Peaceful. Unbothered.
You sighed. “Thanks for keeping him.”
Stack yawned. “Anytime. But next time, try not to wait until after the kombucha king breaks your heart. Just for me to see my nephew.”
You rolled your eyes and turned to leave. Smoke followed you to the door.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said.
“You good?” he asked.
“I think so,” you said softly.
He stepped a little closer. “You know I ain’t never stopped wantin’ you, right?”
“I know,” you whispered.
“I’m done watchin’ you give wife energy to temporary niggas.”
You looked up. “And you? You permanent now?”
Smoke nodded once. “Been permanent. You just needed to remember.”
He leaned in, slow, warm breath brushing your cheek. “I meant what I said earlier. Let me show you what it’s like to be kept.”
Your heart was thudding. Loud. Loud enough to drown out every warning in your head.
But when he kissed your cheek and backed away like he wasn’t trying to rush you?
Smoke stepped closer. “You don’t gotta say anything tonight. But I’m here. For both of y’all. Whenever you ready.”
You turned to him. Eyes soft. Tired. Unsure.
“You sure you ready for this again? For me?”
“I been ready,” he said. “You just had to walk away to make room for us to start over.”
You leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not back yet, Smoke.”
“I know,” he said. Then smiled, slow and cocky. “But you ain’t runnin’ no more either.”
You looked at the house you used to call home. At the man you never stopped loving.
You kinda wanted to see where it could go again.
“Text me when he wakes up,” you murmured.
Smoke smiled. “Bet. Sleep good, mama.”
Stack yelled from inside.
“Tell her you love her and stop bein’ scary!”
You heard Smoke mutter, “Shut the hell up, Stack,” under his breath, and laughed to your car.
You weren’t sure what this was yet.
But it felt real.
And for the first time in a long time… it felt like yours.
And you knew…
This wasn’t a full-circle moment.
It was a second chance.
And this time?
You just might take it.
