Rochelle is a beautiful sistah with a lot going for her: a great job, great family, great friends, and Will, her boyfriend that she adores more than anything. The problem? Lately, Will has been distant, spending more time at work and with his female friends’ problems than with her. When Will breaks one too many promises, Rochelle tells him off, goes to the club with her girlfriends, and attempts to forget her troubles with good friends, food, and dancing. When Will shows up while Rochelle’s in the arms of another man, the pair gets ready for their ultimate showdown. Will Rochelle be the victor in love? Or will Will learn that he doesn’t know what he Got Til It’s Gone?

Rochelle turned back to the mirror. She couldn’t even remember what possessed her to cut off all her hair and get twisties. But a month ago, she went to her favorite beauty shop, From Naps 2 Glory, and told them to chop it…chop it down to two inches at the most…and twist it. Ever since, she had been sporting her new look, and much to her surprise, the men were still trying to get to her. With her short, funky ‘do, her caramel-kissed skin, 5’6” slim figure, perky breasts, sistah booty, runner’s calves, and her sweet disposition, it wasn’t hard to figure out why the men kept trying to get her number

But she wasn’t interested in MEN…just Will. Will Jones. She had been dating that gorgeous piece of man for almost a year now, and was ready for the big C…and men know what that is ‘cause they go running every time they hear it. Will appeared to be the type of man sistahs complained were in short supply. He was good-looking, with his honey complexion, big brown eyes, and a smile that could light a thousand dark nights. He had a good job, loved his mother, and all his friends—mostly women, much to Rochelle’s chagrin—thought he was just the living end.

Rochelle was definitely thanking her lucky stars for meeting Will at the library of all places. They were both trying to reach for the last copy of Eric Jerome Dickey’s latest book, and Will, being the gentleman, let Rochelle take it. Since then, they had been each other’s constant companion, going to movies, restaurants, clubs, sitting at home watching videos, cooking dinner for each other—everything that couples did.

Recently, however, Will hadn’t been around. Almost a month to the day it had been since Rochelle had a decent amount of “couple” time with Will. Coincidently, that was about the time she chopped off her hair. Sure, Will’s excuses could be legit; after all, his job was becoming more demanding, and he had personal issues to deal with, but Rochelle’s thought always came back to, “What’s that gotta do with me?”

Rochelle snapped from her thoughts when Monica snuck up behind her and wrapped her arms around Rochelle’s waist. She smiled. She, Monica, and Audrey had been friends since the womb, having been born only about a week apart from one another. To look at them, you would have sworn they were triplets. They all had the same traits, minus Monica’s more voluptuous figure, and Audrey’s more diminutive figure, which placed Rochelle right between them figure wise, and oddly enough, personality wise, too. She wasn’t flamboyant like Monica or as quiet as Audrey.

“If it’s the last thing I do tonight,” Monica said, “I’m going to hook you up with a dude.”

“I already have a dude, thank you very much,” Rochelle said, slipping from Monica’s embrace and dropping down onto her queen-sized bed, beside Audrey. “His name is Will.”

“And where is he?” Monica asked. “I mean for real, girl. If my man had been giving me the cold shoulder for a month, he would be getting the cold shaft indefinitely.”

“It has been ridiculous, Ro.” Audrey sighed. “So, what was his excuse this time for not coming to the club with us?”

“He didn’t give one because he’s still coming.”

Monica laughed. “Girl, in about two seconds he’s going to be calling here, telling you another sob story…just watch.”

As if Monica had it timed, the phone rang.

“Watch” is all she said.

Rochelle stilled her anxiety long enough to reach over to her nightstand and pick up the cordless phone.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey, it’s me.” It was Will. Just the sound of his voice alerted Rochelle that he wasn’t coming, and instantly her defenses came up, irritation etched all over her face.