Village of Roses

Chapter Five [V.o.R]

“We grow apart because we grow in different stages and not all of our stages align.” – Dominic Riccitello
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  Warm air hummed through the apartment, Harlem shared with London. Bright orange walls danced throughout the suite: pictures of the couple lingered in specific areas of the halls, candles that smelled of pumpkin spice remained in the living room where that space was decorated with a set of black furniture.

In the kitchen stood London; cooking a pot of spaghetti in a pair of light gray True Religion jeans, black Nike fleece shirt, and her Victoria Secret house slippers.

Walking in the apartment more too see everything was still intact, Harlem walked over to place his arms around London's waist. “Hey babe, dinner will be done in a moment. How did your meeting with Darnell go?” London asked as she walked away from the stove and from underneath Harlem's arms. She had no problem recognizing her fiancé since the door was locked and only they held keys to the door.

Going to the refrigerator London pulled out a small container of ricotta cheese, pitcher of lemonade, along with the hot sauce. Her hunger increasing as she thought of many ways to eat the food she was preparing. She had been at home for three hours alone since she and Harlem had left the 'salon', and it gave her time to think about how she would acquire the property she wanted but, first she wanted to hear how Harlem's day had went.

Harlem looked down at his clothes, the gray Levi jeans he wore matched well with the white long sleeve Nike shirt, and his bubble NorthFace vest in black. His diamond chain stopped at his chest and the platinum one he wore stopped just a little bit under the diamond one. On his wrist was a Rolex London purchased him during the beginning of their relationship when exchanging gifts instead of credit card numbers was cute. His beard was freshly lined up and he had a low fade, Harlem wasn't much like the newest generation of niggas, he didn't like skin tight clothing and long hair. He preferred his masculinity. The thought of walking around looking like London made him shudder, lips coaxed in lip gloss? The only time he would ever have lip gloss on his lips was when he kissed the woman he would soon share last names with.

Sitting down at the kitchen table as London brought him a plate of food, Harlem thought back to the meeting he had with Darnell; the man who was apart of the cartel he had inherited from his father. Darnell was a close friend of Harlem's but, Harlem didn't care much for friends. As long as he had London, Harlem was basically good.

Picking up the fork London placed next to him, Harlem closed his eyes and said a quick prayer. “Good I guess but, dey was late. I'm talm–bout a good hour too. York said dey stopped by Tracee fo some'em. I'm gon need you to call and make sho' dats what happened.” Taking a bite of the spaghetti from his plate, Harlem nodded in appreciation of the flavors.

London could always throw down in the kitchen no matter what. It was a reason Harlem didn't quickly kick her to the curb. No matter how hard she competed on Instagram she made sure her real life was in order as well.

Smiling across the table at Harlem, London took a bite of her food, “okay but, have you talked to Javier? I really want that shop– it's perfect for the idea I have. In the front where she had nails, I was thinking of placing the infant clothing line– in the hair salon part would be the toddlers', and in the back would be the shoes. The kitchen could be gutted and I could have stalls installed for fitting rooms and next door would be the teen section.” Harlem narrowed his eyes at his plate as he listened to the woman he loved.