32. Derek's Destiny

Caught between loyalty and regret, Camielle and William urge their troubled son Derek to fight for the love that slipped through his fingers—but will he be able to find his way back?

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Previously on Derek’s Destiny: Determined to make amends with Destiny now that he feels his mission is complete, Derek returns home only to find he may have pushed her beyond the point of no return. In a heated, emotionally charged confrontation, unresolved wounds surface, leaving their relationship in ruins and Derek questioning whether he’s lost her for good.

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MAMA HARRIS

“Camielle, if you make one more damn pie in this house that you know I can’t eat, I swear to God, I’m gonna lose it!” William’s voice boomed from the living room, cutting through the warm air thick with the smell of cinnamon and browned sugar. His voice was so loud, it rattled the silverware in the drawer, and every nerve in my body right along with it.

I sucked my teeth, taking my time slipping on my mitts, letting him stew in his theatrics. Easing open the oven door, a rush of warm apple-scented air washed over me, rich and sweet. Four golden pies sat inside, bubbling up with caramelized edges, each crust a perfect shade of toasty brown. The sight of them made me feel like I was on set in my very own cooking show.

This kitchen was my kingdom. Derek had remodeled it for me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. A double oven with more dials and timers than I’d ever seen, countertops as smooth as a fresh pie crust, and gadgets tucked away like treasures in every drawer. He’d even hung copper pots along one wall like I was a chef in some fancy restaurant. Sometimes, I’d catch myself laughing, thinking about how much he’d spent just to indulge his mother’s hobby, but I loved it. In here, I felt like a real chef.

These pies didn’t even have a destination yet, but around here, they’d be gone before sundown. Everyone in Juniper knew about my baked goods; neighbors, church friends, half the folks down at the pharmacy. I’d whipped up a dozen apple pies, and by the time the evening rolled in, they’d all have a home.

“All these damn pies clogging up the air in this house!” my husband muttered from the other room. “I’m sick of it. I’m leaving.”

I smirked, pulling one pie out and setting it on the counter. “William, sit yo’ narrow ass down. Ain’t nobody leaving this house but the sound of your own complaining.” I turned, eyeing the next pie. “You ain’t got nowhere to go but down to Anthony’s. He’s up at the hospital with Angel anyway. They’re waiting to hear about Little Derek’s tests, and Lord willing, he’ll be home before next Sunday dinner.” I shrugged, thinking aloud. “I wonder if Angel likes apple pie.”

“She better like it,” he fired back. “With all this damn stress baking you’re doing, trying to calm yourself over those two grown-ass sons of yours and their business.”

“Ain’t nobody stressing,” I said, putting a little edge in my voice, even if we both knew it was a lie. “I bake because I like baking.”

“Lying like a damn rug,” he mumbled, louder than he meant to.

I just shook my head. “Ooooh, you sound just like Derek.” The words came out with a bit of a laugh.

“Derek.” He spat the name like it tasted sour. “Won’t answer my calls, probably cause he’s mad at you—and thinks I’m in on it.”

“Hush, William! Shit!” I snapped, pulling out the last pie, my patience as thin as a pie crust before it hits the heat. I set it down with a deliberate smack and closed the oven, keeping my eyes on him.

William grumbled walking into the kitchen, waving a hand like he had the slightest clue about my baking. “You needed to hush first, over here using up all the damn—” He paused, fumbling for words he didn’t have, eyes darting around the kitchen as if he could name one ingredient in my pies. “All the damn ingredients and shit! Wasting good money and flour. You need to stop this mess and call your damn son.”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh as I opened cabinet after cabinet, hands lingering on the polished wood. I didn’t even know what I was looking for, but something in me was hoping for a little piece of peace or maybe a scrap of patience stashed behind the sugar jar, anything to make this conversation easier to swallow.

“I just spoke to Anthony,” I said, feigning innocence as I continued my slow search. “How you think I know where he is?”

William wasn’t buying it. “He’s always at the hospital, what’s new? Still trailing Angel like a lovesick puppy with his big ol’ self.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You know that’s just my gentle giant, Will.”

He snorted, arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe. “Gentle? That boy’s soft as cotton! Needs to go on and claim his ready-made family, stop actin’ like he ain’t already fallen in love with that woman and her son.”

“Ant moves slow, you know that,” I replied, letting another cabinet door swing open, my fingers lingering on the jar of flour, as if maybe I could bake up an answer to all these troubles.

“Slower than you acting right now,” William shot back, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “’Cause I know you know I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout Ant.”

I paused, shutting the cabinet, feeling that familiar knot of frustration twist in my stomach. “Derek don’t wanna talk to me,” I mumbled, folding my arms tight across my chest.

“Nobody told you to haul yourself up to that hotel and start messin’ with that girl’s head,” William said, leaning against the wall with his arms folded tight, like he was trying to hold back more than just words.

I turned to him, hands still dusted with flour, shaking my head. “You didn’t see him, Will. That—” My voice dropped, the words hitching up in my throat. “That was not our son.”

William snorted, giving me that look. “That is our son, Camielle. Crazy as a June bug in July, and been that way since you dropped that big ol’ TV on his head when he was a baby. Ain’t been right since, and Destiny’s been around long enough to know it, too.”

“Will, he caused those fires around here, don’t you see? And it wasn’t over yet. I know he did something—something terrible when he left that hospital. I saw his eyes. They were as black as onyx, hollow, like he was looking clean through me.”

I shuddered, a cold ripple down my spine at the memory of that last, desperate conversation with Derek. I’d stood there, heart in my throat, trying to slap some sense into him—- literally —to shake loose the darkness I saw swallowing him whole. But he’d just turned and walked away, leaving me there, stunned, wondering if I’d ever see him again as my son—or if the last time was already behind me. He looked... changed, something fierce and hollow in his eyes, something I wasn’t sure I could reach.

I’d gone up to that hotel afterward, hoping I’d find him there, hoping for another chance to get through. But it was Destiny I found, looking worn down to her bones, the sparkle in her eye smothered under worry. I told her plain and simple that he was up to no good, and she nodded, then broke right down, weeping into my arms. In that moment, seeing her pain, I had no choice but to tell her the truth: sometimes, the best thing you can do is save yourself. Even if it’s from someone you love. Even if it’s my son.

“I didn’t tell her to break off that engagement, Will,” I said, defensive.

“No,” he replied, crossing his arms. “But you sure poured gasoline on the fire, and it wasn’t your place.”

I sucked my teeth, turning back to my pies, busying my hands so he wouldn’t see the hurt on my face.

“I was Destiny once, you know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Trying to make it work with a damn lunatic. These boys don’t know that side of you, don’t know half of it. Derek’s got that fire in his blood ‘cause of your blood, not some damn TV bump.”

Will laughed, a low, bitter chuckle. “Nah, that’s from your side. You know Uncle George’s been up in that nut house since ’88, right? Runs deep on your side.”

“It’s not a nut house, it’s a—a—”

“Nut house,” William cut in, crossing his arms, daring me to argue with him.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a slow breath. “Anyway, I wasn’t trying to be in Derek’s business, Will. Lord knows he’s put her through enough, and there she was, up there by herself, hurtin’ something fierce.”

William let out that long, weary sigh, the kind that made his shoulders slump as he looked at me, eyes filled with a patient pity, like he was explaining the world to a child. “I’m not saying Derek’s right—not by any stretch. But this wasn’t your place, Camielle. You’re always trying to swoop in and fix them boys problems, like they’re broken toys. What you don’t see is they might just be capable of handling their own mess if you let them.”

“What if Derek had gotten himself hurt, Will? What if he got mixed up in something he couldn’t pull himself out of?” I asked, voice trembling.

William waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head. “Derek wasn’t gettin’ hurt, and you know that. That boy’s got a mind like a steel trap, living in a world of his own rules with all that money and power he got. Strategic as hell, that one, even when he’s about to bust a vein. You think he sets fires? No. He plans them. Probably got his own damn henchmen on speed dial. The way they spun that story about Lyman, covering tracks so slick you’d think it was a movie—our son’s like some kind of twisted genius.”

“You sound proud,” I muttered, a bitter edge creeping into my voice. “I know he’s got… people for things, but why would he need people like that? I heard him on the phone at the hospital, talking to someone, and I swear I felt a chill. What’s he even doing, needing those kind of connections?”

William’s eyes softened, but his voice stayed firm. “I don’t know the details, Camielle, but I know this much: if Derek’s crossed that line, it has to do with Destiny. And he’s a man who’d go to hell and back for the woman he loves—or drag someone there himself if it came to that. You think Lyman’s squeaky clean? Lyman did something, and Derek didn’t hesitate to do what he had to. Destiny’s not scared of Derek, she’s scared of the lengths he’d go for her.”

I shook my head, arms wrapped tight around myself. “It’s not right, Will.”

He looked at me, eyes heavy with a sorrow I knew all too well. “It’s who he is, Camielle. What he’s seen.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the truth settled over me like a storm cloud. I knew he was right. And yet, it didn’t make that ache in my chest ease up one bit.

William slid into the chair at the breakfast nook, that sly grin spreading across his face, eyes twinkling with a mischievousness that only meant trouble.

“I got a confession to make,” he said, voice low, like he was savoring the moment.

“Oh Lord,” I laughed, drying my hands on my apron. “What, you helped Derek bury a body in the backyard?”

He chuckled, looking up at me with that cocky glint in his eye. “Remember that boss you had at the factory? Stephen’s nephew?”

“Yeah…” My laughter faded, a nervous feeling twisting in my stomach. I leaned against the sink, eyes narrowing as I waited for him to spill whatever secret he was holding onto.

“Remember how he wanted you to come in at six in the morning like you hadn’t just pulled a double? Talkin’ ‘bout some mistakes, some quality issues?”

I nodded slowly, a flash of frustration lighting up old memories. That man had been hell on earth, and William knew it.

“Well, then remember how he called back and said never mind, that it was all good, and you didn’t need to come in till ten?” A smirk curled up one side of his mouth, and he looked proud as a fox with a stolen hen.

“William…”

“Well…” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “Me and the boys happened to see him that evening, heading into his house after Ant’s football practice. I parked, got out, and let him know my wife wasn’t about to drag herself out of bed after the kind of shift he made you work. And maybe I threatened him a little when he decided to get mouthy.”

“William!”

“Maybe the boys got out of the car when things started getting a little heated,” he continued, ignoring me, “since Mr. Big Shot was telling me I couldn’t tell him how to handle his workers.”

I covered my mouth, shaking my head. “Jesus…”

“And maybe Ant gave him a little push,” William said with a shrug, “you know, after he made one too many comments about how he was the boss.”

I rubbed my eyes, trying to process this. “William, those boys were only six and eleven!”

He just shrugged, eyes twinkling. “And maybe they got a few kicks in, too. Somebody was talkin’ crazy ‘bout their mama, and I figured… well, let ‘em have at it.”

I lowered my hands from my face, letting out a long, exasperated sigh, but I couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “So you’re just telling me now that our sons had their first street fight defending my honor?”

William chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he was reliving the moment. “Guess so. And, I’ll tell you, for a eleven-year-old, Ant threw a pretty solid shove. Got him right down on that ground. And Derek…well, he always had that fire in him, fists made of steel, even as a boy.”

I folded my arms, looking at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “And you just…what? Let them wail on him?”

William had a satisfied look crossing his face. “You don’t mess with a man’s family, not unless you want to feel the consequences. Especially my family. Especially my wife.”

“Will, that man could’ve gotten me fired!!” I tried not to laugh, the kind of laugh that comes from nerves you didn’t realize you were holding. “And you really dragged our boys into it? My God…”

He shrugged, a sly grin still plastered on his face. “Some lessons are worth more than any job. I wasn’t about to let him walk all over you. That boy needed to learn there are limits.”

“Well, no wonder Derek turned out the way he did—Jesus, Will. You taught him that’s how to solve his problems, then acted all surprised when he started fighting everybody that crossed him. You did this!” My voice was sharp, slicing through the air like the truth finally breaking free.

William sat there, saying nothing, his mouth drawn tight, eyes fixed on the table like he was staring at something only he could see.

“I tell you what,” he finally said, voice low. “Derek sat in that back seat that day, looked me dead in the eye, and told me he was never gonna have a boss, never gonna let anybody tell him what to do. Said nobody was gonna tell his mama, his daddy, or his brother what to do either. Something shifted in him that day, like a fire that never went out.”

“Yeah, and you made him a damn street fighter,” I replied, exasperation creeping into my voice.

William didn’t flinch, just gave a slow nod, more to himself than to me. “He learned that no man should ever hold power over him or the people he loves. And I’ll tell you, he took that lesson and ran with it.”

“And now he’s burning down the town.”

William gave a half-smile, pride mingled with resignation. “He’s a success. The little boy that used to run through this house, rapping his songs and hollering his dreams—”

“With that attitude of his…”

“—has made himself a household name. Changed all our lives. And just like he promised, he don’t answer to nobody. Not even us. Derek is gonna do what he wants to do. There was nothing you could have done to stop him that day.”

I let out a breath, feeling the weight of his words settle. William was right, even if I hated it. “The only person he ever let have any say over him was Destiny.”

He nodded, his gaze finally lifting to meet mine, eyes softening. “Yeah. That’s his heart, Camielle. So if he chose to do what he did, knowing she didn’t like it…it was something big. Something we probably don’t even wanna know. And he ain’t gonna be right till they fix whatever’s broke between ‘em. I taught him a lot, but she’s the only one who ever gave him a reason to be more than what he came from.”

“Lord, let me call my damn son,” I muttered, storming off toward the bedroom to dig out my phone. “His father ruined him.”

Behind me, I heard William chuckling, low and smug. “Tell your menace of a son to call his damn daddy!”

I waved a hand, not even turning back. “I’m sick of all y’all’s foolishness. You, and these sons of yours.” My voice echoed down the hallway, mingling with the hum of the house, and as I searched for my phone, a tightness pressed against my chest. This was the family I’d built, the family I’d loved with everything I had, but Lord help me, they were going to be the death of me.

I held the phone with it on speaker, my heart pounding, and the weight of everything felt like a stone pressing down on my chest. When Derek picked up on the second ring, it was like a shock, his voice rough, tired.

“Ma.”

I exhaled, feeling the anger, the worry, the ache of it all spill out. “Boy, why haven’t I heard from you in a week? And your daddy—he said you need to call him back. What’s going on with you?”

“I’ve been real busy since I touched down in New York, working non-stop.”

“Your daddy just told me about the time y’all jumped my boss,” I said, a bit of a laugh in my voice to soften it. “You were just a baby, Derek.”

On the other end, he let out a low chuckle—a sound that reminded me of him, the real him, buried somewhere under all that tough exterior he’d built up. “I was in first grade, I think.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked, curious and a little surprised at how easy it was to picture that moment, my little boy standing up, fists clenched, thinking he was invincible.

He paused, then said, “Daddy told me to keep it between us boys.”

I sighed, leaning back, feeling a wave of nostalgia and sadness wash over me. “I’m guessing that was a core memory, huh? Taught you some things.”

The line went quiet, the weight of what I said sinking in, unspoken truths hovering there. And I knew he didn’t need to say anything; his silence was enough.

I shook my head, glancing at the muted TV in the other room, where they’d been throwing my sons name around like gossip on the church steps. “They been talkin’ about you on the news, Derek—about how you tore up those people’s hotel.”

Derek sighed, a long exhale that felt like it held more than just frustration.

“Was that after you left Destiny’s house?” I asked, though deep down, I already knew. A mother’s instinct.

“Yeah,” he answered, not a second of hesitation in his voice.

I closed my eyes, memories swirling up of that sleepless night. I’d worried myself into knots over him, then over Destiny after I saw the look in her eyes. But I’d had no idea that, in those quiet, early hours, I might’ve severed what was left of them. When she walked out of that room with me, I thought she was just heading home to get some air, to clear her head. It hadn’t crossed my mind she was walking away from him for good.

In that silence between us, I felt the ache of it all, like I’d pulled at a thread I didn’t know would unravel so much. And now here he was, miles away, trying to piece together a broken love.

“Look, I’m sorry, Derek,” I softened, realizing my own tone was edged with judgment. “I didn’t mean to get all in your business.”

There was a pause, then he asked, voice low and pointed, “What did you say to her?”

My mouth went dry, and for a moment, I felt like that little boy was staring back at me, the one who used to look at me like I held all the answers. “I… I just didn’t want you to hurt her anymore.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Ma.” His voice had an edge now, the calm gone, replaced by something raw. “I was trying to protect her.”

“Derek, that girl was up there crying, in that big, empty hotel room, while you were off doing God knows what.” My voice was trembling, and I couldn’t hold back the frustration. “You’ve put that girl through enough, don’t you see that?”

He was quiet for a second, then said, “Ma, you’re bringing up things I did back when I was a kid. I’m a grown man now, and I’d slit my own throat before I ever intentionally hurt Destiny again. I wasn’t hurting her.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” I shot back, anger bubbling up with the pain. “Then why was she crying? Why was she so scared? Maybe you’re not running around with other women, but you’re still hurting her, Derek. Hurting her real bad.”

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy, like the weight of all the words left unsaid. And somewhere in that silence, I could feel it—how the gap between us had grown, filled with things I couldn’t name, things I couldn’t reach, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I even knew my son anymore.

"Whatever you were up to, Derek, it wasn't right. And maybe I overstepped, but—”

“I was gonna make it up to her.” His voice cracked at his admission, a raw, vulnerable edge I hadn’t heard in years. “I didn’t realize how far I’d gone, but I was gonna make it right. I came back to her that morning, but she was gone. Ring off and everything.”

The weight of his words hit me, and I drew in a sharp breath. “I didn’t know she left her ring…”

“She did,” he said, voice tight with hurt. “She left it and told me she couldn’t marry me, said she made me weak.” His voice trembled, and then he added, “Those were your words, Ma.”

A silence fell between us, thick with regret and things I could never take back. I hadn’t known my words would dig that deep, hadn’t imagined they’d echo through him and into her heart.

I sank against the counter, the phone clutched tight to my ear, his words settling over me like a weight I hadn’t prepared for. “Derek, I never meant for it to go this far. I was just worried about you. About what you were becoming.”

“Becoming?” he shot back, his voice sharper now, laced with a bitterness that cut. “This is who I am, Ma. And maybe it always was. But you… you told Destiny that she made me weak? The one thing I thought I could hold onto without breaking? And you took that from me.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I just… I didn’t want you to keep going down a path you couldn’t come back from, Derek. And Destiny, she—she was the last person I thought would get hurt in all this.”

He let out a bitter laugh, the sound twisted and hollow. “Well, that’s exactly what happened, Ma. She’s hurt, and I’m the one who made it that way. Fine, I’ll admit that. But you? You pushed her right out of my life with all your talk about saving her from me. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“I thought she’d see that she was strong enough to stand on her own,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I thought she’d be able to decide for herself if she could handle this.”

“And she decided, Ma. She decided because of what you told her.” He paused, his voice softening for just a moment, tinged with a raw vulnerability I hadn’t heard since he was a boy. “I’m trying to find my way back, trying to be better. But how am I supposed to do that if even you don’t believe I can?”

I swallowed hard, pressing a hand to my chest as if that could ease the ache. “Derek, I do believe you can. I always believed it. But I was scared for you. For her.”

His breathing was ragged on the other end of the line, the silence heavy with both our regrets. “I love her, Ma. And maybe I didn’t show it in all the right ways, but I love her more than anything. And now she’s gone, and she…” His voice cracked, just a whisper now. “She’s done with me.”

The words tore through me, leaving a hollow ache in their wake. “Derek, listen to me.” My voice was shaking, but I held steady, hoping he could feel my love through the phone. “I didn’t understand. I thought I was protecting her, but I realize now…I didn’t trust you to protect her in your own way. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, and I could feel his pain stretching across the miles, feel it like it was my own.

“Just…” he finally said, voice soft, defeated. “Just don’t interfere anymore, Ma. Let me handle what’s left. Let me try to make it right—if I even can.” He exhaled, shaky, and I knew he was fighting back tears.

“Alrght, Derek,” I said, my own voice breaking. “I’ll let you be. But just know, no matter what you’re facing, I’ll always be here. Always.”

Suddenly, the phone was snatched right from my hand, and I watched as William held it to his ear, his expression steely, the way it only got when he was dead serious.

“Now listen here, boy,” he began, voice calm but firm, cutting through whatever Derek was feeling on the other end. “Your mama overstepped, sure. But there was no way for her to break something that didn’t already need fixing. She might’ve been the last straw, but she sure as hell wasn’t the first—that was you, son.”

There was a silence, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I heard Derek holding back tears, his breathing ragged and uneven.

“You gotta take responsibility for the state you had things in,” William continued, his voice unwavering. “The state you had Destiny in when your mama found her, up there crying alone when you should have been there with her.”

“I know,” Derek murmured, and his voice had a rawness to it, a weight that told me he was shouldering every last word. He sounded as close to broken as I’d ever heard him.

William took a breath, and his voice softened just a little. “Now, I’m not gonna ask what went down between you two—it ain’t my business. But, son… whatever you did, you need to undo it. Whatever it takes, make it right before it’s too damn late.”

Another long silence followed, one that hung heavy in the room, and I felt it like a pressure on my chest. William handed the phone back to me, his jaw set, a look in his eyes that was equal parts tough love and worry. He nodded for me to take it, so I lifted the phone again, bringing it to my ear, waiting for Derek to say something, anything.

Derek’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with something raw that tugged at my heart. “I’ll try.”

“Ain’t no ‘trying,’ son,” William cut in, firm as steel. “You either get your woman back, or you don’t. She gave you another chance, you gonna let her go like that?”

“She’s not even answering my calls.” Derek’s voice wavered, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. It hit me then: Destiny was really done.

“Fight harder,” William said, his voice taking on that gritty encouragement only he could pull off. “Cause your crazy-ass mama over here’s been stress-baking apple pies in the middle of summer just to keep herself from pacing holes in the floor. I’m sick of both of ya’ll.”

A quiet chuckle slipped through from Derek, a sound that warmed me even in all this mess. “They’re calling me back into this session. I gotta go,” he said softly.

“Bye, son,” William and I said, our voices a quiet harmony in the thick air. The line clicked silent, leaving only the faint hum of the kitchen around me. I lowered the phone, staring down at it, feeling the empty weight in my hands, as if I could still feel Derek on the other end.

I glanced around my kitchen—my sanctuary, the place Derek had made beautiful just for me—and it felt quieter, emptier.

William’s hand landed gently on my shoulder, his touch grounding, steady, but even his familiar warmth couldn’t shake the cold ache in my chest. I closed my eyes, sending up a silent prayer, fierce and desperate, that Derek would find his way through the shadows he’d built around himself, that he’d fight his way back to his own heart, back to his Destiny.

to be continued