Hollywood Hustle & Heart
The Final Installment
Chapter 8 - Mike
Three Months Later
I texted her again, trying not to panic.
“God, why do exes always pop up when life is finally going well?” I groaned.
Over the past few months, Jenna and I had grown closer in ways I didn’t expect. I was leaning into the kind of moments that used to make me run. Reading books on marriage. Sitting with my therapist. Even connecting with Will Johnson, that podcast host from Philly who kept it all the way real. We were in love—deeply—and we told each other that every day.
So getting a text from Zara, one of my exes, knocked the wind out of me. Especially because she made it sound like we were still in contact. She wasn’t even my last ex—she was two women ago.
The text came while I was in the bathroom. Jenna saw the first line flash across my screen. When I came out, we opened it together. That’s when I realized—this wasn’t just drama. This was spiritual warfare.
Zara’s message included her address and ended with a “come by anytime.” And to make things worse, it opened with, Why didn’t you call me back?
I told Jenna the truth—we hadn’t talked in years. But that line made her pause. She asked if I deleted call logs, if I had something to hide. It hurt. She’d been with me practically every day. We spent all our free time together. Why did it seem like she was siding with Zara?
Then she admitted it: Zara had DM’d her the week before, claiming we’d been hanging out. She blocked her and brushed it off, wanting to trust me. But now that Zara had reached me directly, it stirred something deeper.
We argued. I didn’t understand why I was expected to change my number just because we broke up. None of my exes had ever stalked or harassed me—not until now. I thought we had all moved on in peace. I guess I was wrong.
I called Chi.
“Sup, baby bro?”
“Jenna’s mad at me,” I blurted.
“I thought things were going great?”
I explained everything. When I finished, he was quiet. Too quiet.
“Chi, how do I fix this? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Actually…”
His voice trailed.
“What did I do?!”
“Mike, I’m not saying she’s not overreacting. But when I got serious about Selena, I changed my number. Unfollowed old flames. Blocked potential drama. I did what I had to do to keep peace.”
I sighed. Why did love have to feel so complicated?
Here I was—going to therapy, getting counsel, really doing the work. Yet I still felt like I was failing. Tears welled up, and I fought them off.
“I don’t get it,” I muttered, telling him everything I’d been doing to grow. “Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“Bro, it’s not that you’re not doing enough. You are. And I know Jenna sees that. But... have you ever asked her what would actually make her feel safe?”
I paused.
“No.”
“Then maybe that’s where you start. And listen—Zara DM’ing her made things messier. That wasn’t fair. Jenna should’ve told you. But now, it’s about helping her see you’re here for the long haul.”
He exhaled.
“Come to dinner this weekend. Bring Jenna. Let her see you in your family element. Maybe what she’s wrestling with isn’t your past—it’s her fear of the future.”
That hit me.
Was Jenna wondering if I’d break her heart? Looking for a reason to run before it all fell apart?
“I gotta bounce,” he added. “Selena needs me to grab something.”
Of course. That was Chi—family-first, always. And I admired that about him. Maybe Jenna needed to see more of that in me, too. But first, I needed to pray.
I still felt like she was being petty for not hearing me out. But maybe... maybe she was just scared.
Jenna had lost her mother. Gone no-contact with her sister. No strong male figures in her life. She was healing. And while I was ready to hold space for her, I deserved a safe space, too.
“Okay, God. What are we doing?” I whispered, opening my prayer journal.
She finally called me back.
We talked—really talked. She admitted how her past rejections made her keep her guard up. I understood. But it made me wonder... did I really have what it took to keep her heart safe?
As we drove to my brother’s house for dinner, she sat quietly, staring out the window. I reached over and grabbed her hand. She turned toward me and smiled. I kissed her hand gently.
I was ready to move forward. For real.
Pulling into the driveway, I spotted my nieces waiting out front. Smiling, I parked and hopped out. They ran straight to me.
“Okay, okay. Don’t mess up the fit!” I laughed, kissing their foreheads.
I helped Jenna out of the truck and introduced her to the girls.
“Jenna, this is Camara and Laila.”
“Your makeup’s so pretty,” Laila said, hugging her.
Camara, ever the tough one, simply offered her hand. “Hey.”
Jenna didn’t miss a beat. She engaged with both of them naturally, and I slipped inside to check on the crew.
Chi and Junior were gaming on the couch. I dapped them up, then headed to the kitchen where Selena handed me a cutting board and a bowl.
“What’s up, sis?” I asked, hugging her and rolling up my sleeves.
A few minutes later, Jenna and the girls joined us.
“Uncle Mike,” Camara said, “you didn’t tell me Jenna worked with KeKe Palmer. That’s so cool.”
I smiled. “I told y’all she was a phenomenal stylist. Let her tell you the rest.”
Jenna blushed, coming to stand beside me. I handed her a knife so she could help with the salad. That’s when I saw the tears in her eyes.
I dropped my knife.
“Come on,” I said, leading her out to the back deck.
We sat in silence for a moment. Then I asked gently, “What’s wrong?”
She sniffled. “Seeing you with your family… it made me realize why I keep pushing you away.”
Then it all came out.
She told me she’d called Zara herself—who admitted we hadn’t spoken in years. She’d had an emergency therapy session. She was tired of sabotaging good things. Tired of pushing love away. And afraid she’d never be enough.
I turned toward her, cradling her hands. I wiped a tear from her cheek, then smiled through my own.
“I prayed for God to show you what healing looks like in this season,” I said, voice cracking. “If you need time... I’ll give you that. I don’t want to take a break, but I want you to get what you need.”
Tears fell from my eyes now. I loved this woman. And the thought of losing her? It crushed me.
She pulled me close, forehead to forehead.
“No,” she said firmly. “I may still be learning how to hear from God clearly, but I know He didn’t say that.”
I held my breath.
“I believe we can do this together. I’m not running anymore. I know where I’m wounded. I know what I need to work on. But I’m not letting fear win.”
Relief rushed over me. I grinned.
“You memorized her number?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smirked. “Yep. Wanted to hear her say she was lying.”
I laughed. “My woman don’t play about me, huh?”
“And don’t,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I stood and pulled her to her feet, wrapping my arms around her. I prayed—simple but sincere. Then I kissed her like it was the first time.
“Whatever you need to heal, I’m here,” I said. “If I’m being too much, not enough—just say the word.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m healing for me, but you deserve a love that doesn’t cut.”
That broke me in the best way. I had just said those exact words to God a few days ago.
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you more.” She kissed my nose.
“Alright,” I said, grabbing her hand as we walked back inside. “Family time.”
She flinched slightly, then smiled.
It would take time. But Psalm 68:6 says God places the lonely in families. And maybe... just maybe... He was placing us in the family we both needed.
We weren’t perfect. But we were growing. And now, we were growing together.
That made all the difference.
I hope you enjoyed my short serial novel, Hollywood Hustle & Heart. Be sure to go back and catch up if you haven’t already. Let me know your thoughts on Mike and Jenna’s love.