Seven Days in June

by Tia Williams

“Confession,” whispered a flushed blonde on her fourth glass of rosé. “My son plays Ohio State basketball, and I get so horny during games. To me, all those beautiful Black players are Sebastian.”

He’d keep them all alive by sheer force of will. The new Shane didn’t love and then vanish.

She was a fire he’d started ages ago—and for too long, he’d just let it smolder. It was time to put it out.

Girls are given the weight of the world, but nowhere to put it down. The power and magic born in that struggle? It’s so terrifying to men that we invented reasons to burn y’all at the stake, just to keep our dicks hard.” He

“The burden isn’t on me to explain it, Rich. The burden’s on y’all to fix it. Good luck.”

“Stop writing about me.”

“You first.”

“You burst into my solitude, demanding to be seen. You were overwhelming. Just wild and weird and brilliant, and I never had a choice. I liked everything about you. Even the scary parts. I wanted to drown in your fucking bathwater.”

And maybe that was what real, adult love was. Being fearless enough to hold each other close no matter how catastrophic the world became. Loving each other with enough ferocity to quell the fears of the past. Just fucking being there.

Loving you never ends. Whether you’re Genevieve or Eva. Whether I lose you for years or wake up to your face every morning. I love you. You’re my home. And I want you forever.”