“You know, sometimes I wonder whether you think I’d make a good Queen because of who I am or because of who you want me to be.” It slips out and I regret it immediately. My moment of vulnerability has me looking for a fight. Some reason to retreat, like a turtle in its shell.

He shifts, stunned, mouth open like I’ve wounded him.

“Rue, how could you…” His head drops. “My Memi, you remember her?”

“Of course, I do.” In prison, he would hold me when I had nightmares. My hands would shake and he’d trace circles on my forehead, telling me stories she’d told him.

“Memi would remind me of who I am, who I would be,” he’d explained. “And so too, I tell you, Jelani. You are my Queen.”

Yeah, he calls me that but I thought he meant it in jest. Still, the sweetness of his intentions smooths my sharp edges. “I don’t mean that how it sounds. I just… want to be sure you see me, all of me, the scars, the mess.”

“Jelani.” He faces me and we stop. “How could you say it? I see all you are. Sometimes I think I see more in you than you see in yourself.”

The honesty in his eyes makes me pull tighter to him. His arm is hard against me, as iron willed as his determination. I love that about him—how he is a mirror to my strength. I could whoop his ass, but, like, if we squared up, it would be an even match. And he’d have it no other way. We fit together. Make each other stronger. Like we did in that cell. Like we’re doing out here now.

And yet… My thumb brushes the back of his hand in my grasp. On this topic, I’ve never felt more divided from him.

I study my feet. How do I make him understand? There are parts of who I am he’s never seen. Pieces of me rooted in ways he doesn’t quite grasp. I was an entire person with a life before I even realized I’m Ghizoni. And I guess he doesn’t know that Rue. I squeeze his hand, hoping he gets how badly I want him to. How badly I hope we can get there.

“Tell me, my Queen. What is it? What is it really?”

“Jhamal, I don’t half do things. If I’m going in, I’m going all the way in. Moms always said working twice as hard is just what it takes for people from where I’m from. A-and taking on something that big, with my heart not in it, is… a recipe for failure. And haven’t I failed us enough?” I have to do what I know. It’s who I am. That has to be enough.