Jayla smiled and, before she could think, blurted, “Tell me about your father.”
The question obviously caught Derrick off guard. “My father?” He shrugged. “He’s like a normal father, I guess.”
“Are you two pretty close?”
“Somewhat,” he admitted. “My dad was a hard-ass, so he scared me, to be honest with you. We didn’t do the typical stuff, like fish and play basketball, but he was there for me just the same.”
“Does he travel a lot?”
Derrick laughed. “What are you getting at, Jayla?”
Jayla shut her eyes. She knew she was acting strange. How was she supposed to tell him? How the hell did she get so heavily involved in this? And how the hell was she going to get out? “You’re right.” She forced a smile. “I don’t know where that came from. I think I’m just tripping a little. I really wanted your mom to like me.”
Derrick gave her another kiss. “She’ll come around, babe. And if she doesn’t, that won’t change my feelings for you.”
They leaned back on the pillows stacked against the headboard, and his hand rubbed her slightly bloated, but empty stomach. Jayla relaxed in his arms, but she still wanted to say more on the subject. But she didn’t want to open that can of worms, either. Gloria had been right on certain levels. For one, Derrick had never asked her about her sexual partners. Hell, she didn’t even know the number. But she had to admit it was strange they had never discussed it.
So part of her could agree in that regard. Even though she wanted to deserve Derrick. Needed to. But she’d felt targeted before Gloria had even stepped through the door. And Gloria had been right about something else. Jayla couldn’t be trusted.
Jayla wanted to cry. It was a shame. Though Derrick was sure his mother had dementia and spoke from the deep recesses of her subconscious, the reality was that she was completely aware. And Jayla was stuck.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“I’m pregnant too.”
Jayla’s hand paused over the box of plates and bubble-wrapped wineglasses. She started to ask her friend to repeat that statement. But the way Tara stood at the counter, the knowing smile planted on her face, the hand on her flat stomach, her pregnancy was self-evident. Jayla continued emptying the cabinet and wrapping each dish in newspaper before arranging it neatly in the box.
“You’re not going to say anything?” Tara asked, her face betraying her slight surprise.
Jayla opened her mouth. Shock had her closing it again abruptly.
“Wow.” Tara’s face fell as she eased onto the barstool. “Gee, thanks for your support.”
Guilt came first, followed by regret. It wasn’t Tara’s fault she was married to a cheating asshole. Hell, it wasn’t her fault Jayla had entertained the infidelity. She was simply having a baby with her husband of three years. Jayla sighed. She’d already fucked up everything with Jackie and Jasmine. She couldn’t lose Tara too.
She skirted the counter and wrapped her arms around Tara’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I was just surprised. I’m going through a lot, and this whole wedding thing has got me all over the place. I’m sorry.” Jayla leaned over and placed her cheek against Tara’s. “You’re right. Congratulations, girl.”
Tara’s cheeks warmed with the smile. “Thank you, girl.”
“How far along are you?” Jayla moved back to the cabinet to resume packing. Numerous boxes had already been stuffed, taped, and labeled, and now they cluttered the linoleum floor and spilled into the hallway.
“About eight or nine weeks. I’ve known for a minute now, but I wanted to be sure.”
Jayla nodded. “How are you feeling? Nauseated or anything?”
“A little, sometimes. Having to pee more, that’s for sure. And I feel like I can smell every damn thing.”
“And is Kevin excited?” The question sounded innocent enough, but Jayla hated that she had felt compelled to even ask about that bastard.
“Oh yeah. He’s wanted a kid for forever. I didn’t think we were ready, but . . .” She looked off in the distance, the hint of a smile touching her lips at some memory. “Yeah, we’re in a good place now. We both have great jobs, and we’re happy. It’s a good time to have a baby.”
Jayla didn’t bother to respond as she finished packing the box and began closing the flaps.
“What about you, Jaye?”
“What about me?”
“Your baby,” Tara said with a slight laugh. “You’ve been tight-lipped about it, so I wasn’t sure what was going on. Have you been going to your appointments and stuff?”
“No,” Jayla admitted, frowning down at her fists.
“Why not?”
Jayla sighed. The need to tell was so urgent, there was no other way around it. “I’m not pregnant,” she said and heard Tara’s sharp intake of breath. “I never was. Damn, I fucked up bad. I told him that so he wouldn’t leave me, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had lied. And he started doing the ‘proud daddy’ thing. I didn’t know what to do.”
Tara could only shake her head, trying to keep from judging her best friend. But her heart twisted in disgust at the sickening confession. “What are you going to do?”
Jayla leaned back on the counter. “I’m going to have to tell him I had a miscarriage,” she said.
“That is fucking crazy,” Tara snapped. “Just tell the truth.”
Jayla opened her mouth to rebut the statement, then closed it again. She didn’t know why she had thought Tara would understand. “You’re right,” she lied, nodding. She lathered sincerity on so thick that Tara actually smiled. “I will. Next time I see him.”
Part of her, a small part, felt obligated to tell Tara everything. She would even admit her own transgressions. But she ignored the nagging feeling and put on an encouraging smile as Tara lapsed into another one-sided conversation.
* * *
Jayla toyed with the idea all afternoon and halfway into the night. Tara had helped her finish packing, and now she lay in bed, the satin sheets feeling cold and lonely on her bare skin, her cell phone like a glaring reminder in her open palm. She hadn’t told her mentor. Of course, she hadn’t told her mentor. Patricia wouldn’t be receptive to the idea. She’d probably try to talk her out of it. Jayla grimaced, already envisioning the disapproving conversation. Her heartbeat quickened as she punched in each digit with a tentative thumb. She’d put it off long enough.
“I was just thinking about you,” Patricia greeted. “I was going to call you in the morning to see what you decided. I know our last conversation couldn’t have been sitting too well with you.”
“Not at all,” Jayla admitted. “Shit has been crazy.” She shut her eyes at Patricia’s warm laugh. She would miss that. She would miss her.
“When is shit not crazy in this business?” Patricia said. “So tell me, Puma. What are you going to do? Do I need to help you with anything?”
Jayla blew out an uneasy breath and opened her eyes. “You’re probably going to hate me for it, Patricia. But I have to do what’s best for me.”
“And what is best for you?”
Jayla paused again. “My business is over,” she said, delivering the words she’d practiced earlier. “I’ve stopped. The email, the phone. Shredded everything. I’m going to start over. With someone. My fiancé. He loves me. He wants to be with me, despite everything.”
“Despite everything?” Patricia’s voice seemed distant, and the condescending tone was evident as she repeated the phrase. “This man probably doesn’t even know everything, Jayla.” She paused, allowing Jayla’s silence to confirm the assumption. “This man doesn’t even know you. You think you can just marry him to escape all the shit you’ve gotten yourself into?”
A combination of shock and anger had Jayla sitting upright. “Excuse me? The shit I’ve gotten myself into? How about the shit you put me up to, Patricia?” She was surprised to hear the laughter.
“Please. When you were nineteen, you came to me, hurt, broken,
and weak, looking for something more. Do you remember that?”
Jayla shut her eyes at the vivid memory. Struggling to put herself through school, student loans piling up, watching her grades diminish because she was busting her ass working at the campus bookstore and a local diner. And when she’d caught her boyfriend cheating with her roommate . . . Patricia was right. She’d been broken. Beyond broken.
Jayla opened her eyes. “You’re right.” The admission was as painful as the memory. “You helped me. You were there when I had no one, Patricia.”
“I’ve loved you like a daughter.” Patricia’s voice had softened. “Always have. I’ve never tried to steer you wrong. Even with this whole business.” Her sigh was heavy. “I mean, yeah, it looks bad. You try to explain to people, and they judge you. But you’ve helped so many women escape some real assholes, have you not?”
“I have.”
“And the ones who stay, at least you’ve made them aware they’re with an asshole, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, it’s not all negative, like people say. But I told you years ago you would make enemies. You will be hated. But what?”
Jayla sighed. “But I will be stronger.”
“Exactly.”
“But how long, Patricia?” Jayla needed her to understand. “Am I supposed to do this until I’m forty, fifty? Am I not supposed to be happy? Be loved? No marriage, no kids?”
“Do you see the irony there?” Patricia’s tone was harsher now. “Marriage? Happiness? Can you trust this man?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know? Seriously, Jayla?”
“Stop, Patricia.” Jayla nearly yelled the desperate plea.
“No, I want to know,” Patricia said, pressing. “You’ve spent the past ten years proving that all men are no-good dogs as soon as they get an attractive piece of ass throwing themselves their way. So, you think this man is any different?”
“You don’t know him.”
“And neither do you. Hell, you probably need to get his ass evaluated.”
“Oh, do I?” Jayla smacked her lips. “Maybe you can do it for me when you’re not licking his mom’s pussy. How about that?”
She heard Patricia’s scoff. “What?”
“Yeah, Gloria. Your jambalaya lover is his mother. Now, what kind of sick shit is that?”
Silence. Jayla was fuming, but she hoped she had gotten Patricia just as mad.
“How did you find that out?” Patricia finally asked.
Jayla felt numb. She closed her eyes as the betrayal snatched her breath away. “You knew,” she whispered. “You told her about me.”
“Well, what the hell was I supposed to do?” Patricia snapped in satisfaction. “I didn’t know shit about no Derrick until I started sleeping with her. She started telling me all about what she had heard from Derrick about y’all being in love and all that bullshit. I couldn’t let you make that kind of mistake.”
“Mistake?” Jayla fumed, her voice stronger from a sudden surge of confidence. “He loves me. And you know what? I love him. And do you know what I’ve realized after years of evaluations and years of throwing myself at men and women and years of bad sex and infidelity and deception? A man will be a dog if a woman lets him. And I was that woman. Letting men cheat. So, it’s not just their fault. Hell, it’s mine too. I was that prostitute, slut, bitch that everyone made me out to be. So, I am done.” Jayla felt tears of relief touch her cheeks at the finality. “I am going to start over. I am going to be a wife. I am going to trust him, and if he cheats, then hell, we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it.”
“When he cheats,” Patricia replied, clarifying matters.
“If,” Jayla repeated. “I’m not going into this thing as if he’s guilty until proven innocent. That’s not trust, and that’s not love. I am done with everything associated with the old Jayla Morgan.” The insinuation was all too clear, and Jayla heard Patricia suck in a breath.
“So, you’re done with me,” she said.
The words left a bitter taste in her mouth, but Jayla felt overwhelming relief once Patricia had said them. “This is how I’m starting over. You did what was best for Patricia. I’m not running away.”
“Yes you are.” Patricia was cold and distant again, the hurt as clear as if she’d written it on her face. “You are running away. From your past. That’s still running. And you know, after twelve months traveling across the world, I’m still right back where I started. And do you know why? You can’t run away. Your shit is out, Puma. It’s only a matter of time before you realize that it’s not going anywhere. So I suggest you tell your little side piece before his mother does. See if he loves you like you say.”
The click was quiet. Jayla wasn’t sure Patricia had hung up until she looked at her phone and saw the call had been disconnected. With a sigh, she leaned back against her pillows and eyed the boxes stacked like pillars throughout the room. She couldn’t shake Patricia’s words. She was right. Derrick didn’t know her. Well, not the woman she had grown from, who was relevant to the woman he’d fallen in love with today. She didn’t want to tell him. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell him. But it would be easier coming from her than from Gloria.
Sighing, she punched in his phone number. “Hey,” she said as soon as he picked up. “I think we need to talk. Can I come over?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I’m so glad to see you, wifey.” Derrick had Jayla in a hug before she even stepped through the door. “I figured you would be packing all night. Otherwise, I would’ve asked you to come over hours ago.” He shifted to let her step into the living room.
“Yeah, well, Tara came over, and we knocked most of it out.” Jayla shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it on the back of the recliner. She felt Derrick’s arm around her waist, his lips on her shoulder, and his excitement through the slit of his boxers. She faced him and put her hands on his chest.
“Babe, wait,” she said, but he was already tugging on her leggings. He covered her mouth with hers, coaxed her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. “Sweetie,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Shhh.” He pulled back long enough to lift her T-shirt over her head. “I’ve missed you. Let me show you how much.”
Jayla lowered her lids, already feeling the tears building up. She loved this man, and damn, she didn’t want to lose him. She would need to be selfish. Just this one last time. So she lost herself in his delicate strokes, his passionate lips, and she didn’t bother thinking anymore as her body took over.
Derrick guided her to the floor, and the carpet felt like silk beneath her skin. He used his knuckles to shift her pink silk panties to the side, then massaged her kitty to life until her juices flowed on his fingers. “Oh, babe,” he moaned. “Do you know how much I love you?”
Tears dampened her cheeks as Jayla nodded. “I love you too.” It was an odd sensation: her heart throbbing from pain and her body singing from overwhelming pleasure.
He lowered his mouth to suck her nipples, and she gripped his head. Yes, love me, she thought.
Jayla didn’t know when he’d worked himself out of his boxers, but she lowered her hand, felt his thigh muscles ripen as he used his knee to nudge her legs apart. When he eased in, her pussy molded to his dick in a desperate clutch. She sighed, almost hypnotized by the delicate massage against her walls, his absent stroke of her hair, his gentle suckle on her outstretched neck.
She felt his dick tighten, and he quickened his pace, going deeper and harder with each thrust. The faint smell of candy perfumed his heavy breath as he moaned. He whispered her name over and over, and Jayla wrapped her legs around his waist, held him, held this moment in place. His tip kissed her G-spot, and she felt the ascent, prepped herself for the stimulation.
“Oh, babe, I love you,” Derrick whispered, and she felt the explosion of cum erupt as he released. Jayla felt the warm liquid, felt every ounce of his love saturating her inside and out, and she soared, the inte
nsity of the orgasm weakening her and sending her into fitful sobs.
Jayla didn’t move. She would relish this moment, snuggled up to her fiancé at the foot of his couch, surrounded by discarded garments. She felt herself drift into a comfortable daze, and she was taken to a place where she and Derrick shared rich lives of love, even disappointment, but always of mutual trust and passion. Kids that had her expressive eyes and Derrick’s deep-set dimples. Spontaneous family trips to Disney or couple getaways to Vegas or Paris. Jayla grinned at the thought. She hadn’t seen as clear a future before. Now she couldn’t see one at all without Derrick.
“What are you smiling at?”
Jayla jumped, slightly startled, and she felt Derrick’s reassuring hand caress her arm. “I thought you were asleep,” she said.
“Halfway.” He yawned, as if to prove it. “We should go upstairs and get in the bed.”
“Can we just lie here for a little bit longer?”
Derrick squeezed her arm, and she found security in the innocent gesture. She heard his cell phone ring somewhere upstairs and smiled when he made no move to answer it.
“Derrick.” Jayla lifted her head to rest her chin on his chest. “How long do you want to live in Georgia?”
“Never thought about it. Why?”
“I don’t know. Just thinking that maybe it would be nice to move somewhere else. Another state.” Jayla struggled to make the suggestion sound innocent but, she hoped, convincing enough to warrant consideration.
Derrick chuckled. “Oh really? I thought Georgia was home? I thought you wouldn’t dare leave your precious Atlanta.”
Jayla’s lips curved when he recited her own words. It felt like so long ago. Another time. Another person. Before fake pregnancies and real STDs.
“I know that’s what I said before.” She sighed, turned, and rested her head on his chest. She found reassurance in the sound of his heartbeat, which was like a muffled thumping, against her ear. “I guess, I’m more open to the idea now.”
The Appraisal Page 22
