End Zone Love (Connecticut Kings Book 4)

by Love Belvin

  I shook my head. “You ain’t want that with me, B! C’mon now. You’re Brielle. You can’t do traditional or ordinary. You ain’t want that life.”

  “I wanted you! Even when you came home from prison I swallowed my pride and called you. Acted as though the previous two years didn’t happen.”

  “Yeah, by adding that Allison chick?” My mouth was twisted.

  “By behaving in a manner I thought you’d want. By being that wild friend. The daring lover.”

  “B, you wasn’t experimenting that night and you know it. Save the bull for a fool. I ain’t that dude.”

  “I never said that. I admit that was extreme, but I have no reason to lie about my feelings for you. I may have been a fool for hiding them, but they were real. And now you’re married.”

  “With a baby due next month,” I made clear. “Listen, B, we can’t go back and forth about who did what and who was right or wrong. I don’t have time to do that. It’s obvious that I had some savantry about me back then. Stuff I had no idea how cold it was.” And just to think, I was saved… I didn’t recognize the man she described, but couldn’t deny it was me. “I’m sorry for betraying you, disrespecting you, and overlooking you—if you believe all these years is what I did.”

  Brielle sat back in her seat, her arms crossed under her chest.

  “But…” she pushed.

  “But I can’t go back and fix what I did.”

  “You can make good by being at least a friend now.”

  I shook my head, my eyes closed.

  Finally, I looked up at her puffy face, red with sadness. “I can’t even have you call when you need to talk. I can’t be that type of friend no more.”

  “Why?” Her hands went in the air. “Because you’re married? Your wife’s not secure enough to let you have female friends?”

  I shook my head again. B probably thought I was disagreeing with her sarcasm. I was responding to the truth.

  “This is a fresh start for me, man. She’s the real deal. No industry gimmicks. No recycled groupie. No gold-digger on a come up. She’s my grace.”

  Brielle started crying again. I could tell she hated she couldn’t help them. Her eyes rolled away and she tried using her fist to cover her mouth.

  “She said you were ordained for her,” she tried through crying.

  A silly laugh burst from my belly, my eyes closed and head turned as I tried to hide it.

  “Her little ass ain’t tell me that,” I whispered, not for Brielle to hear.

  She acted wounded from Brielle and Terrell’s visit. Like they’d gotten one up on her. She didn’t mention she clapped back. How did I not expect that from her?

  Jade is so sneaky!

  “Don’t tell me you met her in church?” Brielle’s voice had calmed a lot, her eyes on me, wanting to know.

  I took a deep breath before standing from the table. “Nah. I brought her with me.”

  She didn’t speak, but I saw when her mouth dropped and she caught it was time to go. Or maybe that was her reaction to what I’d said. Either way, she stood and grabbed her things. I peeked out of the curtain for a waiter and to let Tyheem and John know I was ready. I’d gotten the attention of Tyheem when Brielle called my name.

  I turned to face her.

  She couldn’t look at me when she spoke.

  “I…uhhh…” She swallowed. “…heard about the charity in Shank’s honor.” Her eyes lifted to me. “I want to donate—” Her palm pumped the air and head shook. “—anonymously, of course.”

  “B, that ain’t necessary. Why go through all of that? There’re other organizations raising money for the cause.”

  “Because I’ve now known two people with the virus. Shank was the first.” Her eyes bounced from me to the floor, back and forth.

  “You mind if I ask—”

  Her eyes squeezed closed. “My father.”

  It felt like the air was knocked out of me.

  I was surprised she was walking out with me, her face so swollen from crying. She seemed so not like the strong, untouchable Brielle we all knew. She walked fast through the restaurant, her people who waited in a different room while we ate flanked around her. Her clasped fists were to her mouth and head bowed.

  Outside, we had to wait for our cars to be pulled around. It didn’t take too long for mine. Tyheem must have gone for it when I looked out from the curtain earlier. When the truck stopped in front of the restaurant, I gave Brielle a final look. I had the intent to say goodbye. But when I saw those light brown eyes surrounded by redness, I thought she deserved more than that. What was crazy is I made one step in her direction and Brielle ran the rest of the way into my arms.

  “I hate that we ended this way. I swear I hate my life, Trent.”

  Her team quickly jumped into action, circling us. I didn’t think we’d have anything to worry about. DiFillippo’s had a strict anti-paparazzi policy. We actually employed security outside to prevent it, which is one of the reasons why we were so popular in the industry.

  But this was Brielle. One of the biggest names in pop culture and music. She was iconic, even way before the age of thirty.

  “You be good, Bri-Bri.” I meant that from the heart. I hadn’t called her that nickname in years, but my emotions were that surfaced in the moment. Brielle and I had undeniable history. “I’m gonna be praying for you and your family. A’ight?” I tried smiling to pull one from her.

  It worked because she gave one back. “Wish you could do it by my side. That could be us, but you got a wife and child now,” she joked.

  I laughed quietly. Proudly, feeling released all of a sudden. Shedding more of my past.

  I reached down and kissed her forehead then hugged her again.

  “Two,” I whispered. “A big boy and a incoming baby girl. I’m the richest man, yo.”

  “You deserve it,” she spoke into my chest hugging me back.

  We broke apart and I didn’t look back when I walked over to the back seat of the truck where John was waiting with the door open.

  When I got settled in, I pulled out my phone to check the status of the juvenile home visit.

  “As you can see, we have lots of space for just three letters.” My short arms stretched high over my head on the gentle green wall with off white polka dots. I tried demonstrating an outline for the baby’s name for the artist, who was over to discuss what I wanted done. “My issue now that you’ve shown me the different styles is it being gawky.”

  “Hmmm…” April rocked in the linen swivel glider with her laptop open on her lap. “Maybe. Depending on which style you choose.”

  “We can always include her middle name underneath…” he offered as a solution.

  I backed away, considering that. Trent and I hadn’t settled on a middle name. He wanted Luna. I didn’t agree. It was Latin and wouldn’t be very authentic for us to name our black child something that blatant of a different culture. But I’d been considering it for peace. Ness was my counter. It blended well with Ava. Ava Ness Bailey. But even that was a Scottish baby name for a boy.

  Maybe Nese with two E’s instead of Ss, but the same pronunciation…

  I took a deep breath, rolling my eyes. “I don’t know. This is something I wish Daddy could make the call on.”

  “Let me go run out to my truck to get the measuring tape. It must’ve dropped from my satchel.”

  I nodded as my phone rang in my hand. With my mind still racing on all things baby, spacing, designs, and missing football-playing husbands, I answered right away.

  “Hello…”

  “Oh, you answer?” I rolled my eyes.

  Why did I not look before picking up?

  “Kind of busy over here. What’s up?”

  “Where’s Ky? He ain’t answering the phone.”

  Because it’s not a phone. It’s an iPod for the millionth time. No wifi, no communication!

  “He’s with my mother for the night. They’re probably out of the house.”

  “Oh
, so what you doing?”

  My brows met. “Being busy. Why?”

  “I just wanted to know if you still mad at me. Still waiting on that apology?”

  I heard the cockiness in his tone. I didn’t have time for this.

  “Not today. Won’t be tomorrow. And now that I’m thinking about it, not yesterday either. Hope that answers your question. I have to go now.”

  “Whoa…whoa…whoa! Don’t hang up. I’m just trying to be a familiar friend in the line of fire. I’m sure you done heard about ya hubby being a real man.”

  “What?”

  “The honeymoon done ended, I see.” I could hear the antagonizing amusement in his throaty delivery.

  I gripped my forehead. “Again, Ryshon, I’m busy and don’t have time for romper room ludic frolics today.”

  Behind me, I could hear the artist was back, pulling the tape out of its case.

  “Now. Now. Now,” he warned, almost like groaned. “Don’t go white girl on me. I’m a familiar friend. You gone need me now that he showed his ass. Unless you gone stay with him. It ain’t fair if you do. You always rode my ass when I was doing the same shit as him. Only difference is his shit on blast through social media. Me? I’m just a local ass nigga. Only E.O.” I moved toward April and put my phone on mute.

  “Go to Spilling That Hot Tea website,” I ordered curiously.

  Impatient, I decided to go from my phone as Ryshon continued.

  “And all he fucks with is bangers. They all got long weaves down they backs, big asses that bounce, titties that dance for him. They got pretty faces, too. You ain’t got nothing they ain’t got. But they got something you don’t. They got a stash. You ain’t got no job, working on ya second baby daddy, and because you married, you think you covered. Lemme put you D, baby girl: dude got big time lawyers that ran circles around your ordinary self. You ain’t got access to no real paper and when you leave, it’s gone take a minute for you to get the pennies you think you deserve. So, what you gone do now, Jadee?”

  My heart thundered as I made it to Spilling That Hot Tea’s IG page. Two pictures into the page were images of Trent, standing outside of DiFillippo’s in a deep embrace with none other than Brielle. My hands began to tremble with what they held. Ryshon’s sinister tone came from them, and a video, as I swiped, played of my husband, smiling betrayingly down into her eyes. Her legs were bare in short shorts as they reached up his towering frame, calves tight and extended from long chunky heels. She was too happy there, too familiar in those big arms I called home.

  I sucked back a cry, head spinning.

  “Jade!” April called me. My eyes shot to her, watching her approach. Her expression told me everything. She’d seen the pictures and video, too. “You okay? You’re shaking, baby!”

  “I’m just ya friend,” Ryshon continued, not knowing he’d been muted. “Look. You know I always got Ky, but I’ll be good to you, too. I’m investing in real estate in Irvington. I can probably hook you up with something once I get shit poppin’. If you get a job, I could use ya credit and cut you in, even.”

  I was on sensory overload. Realizing I could eliminate one stressor, I tapped away to disconnect the call. In the next beat, another came through. Lashawn. I tapped to reject that call, needing to go back to the pictures and videos. This couldn’t be true. Trent couldn’t have kept running into Brielle from me. After all we’d been through with her… How understanding I’d been. Had I played that much of a fool to him?

  Is this what I should expect from a man of Trent’s caliber?

  My phone rang again. Elle. I tapped to reject the call. My eyes closed from the wave of nausea washing over me. Then I felt pressure around me, deepening and deepening.

  “Jade, baby!” April cried. “It’s just me. You okay?” Her expression was alarmed.

  I was out of breath, eyes and mouth wide open. Van, the artist, peering over to me with red cheeks.

  “He’s asking if he should get started on the outline now,” April sounded as though she was repeating that information to me.

  I found my head shaking before I did the words to corroborate the action.

  “No!” I spat quickly. “I-I’ll call you when we’re—I’m ready to get started.”

  I couldn’t process his response, but saw him pack up his things.

  “I’ll walk you out!” April wobbled after him as I sat down in the glider.

  My cell sounded again. Again, I rejected the call, wanting to go back to the pictures and video. When the calls grew excessive, I grabbed April’s laptop from the ottoman and viewed the blog from where she had it pulled up.

  This felt like déjà vu. Last year, right after we were married, I’d crudely learned they even knew each other and were once lovers. I let the concert fiasco go. She showed up on his doorstep with familiarity, and I’d dismissed it. I learned he’d possibly impregnated her, and dropped it immediately. And what good had that done me? We weren’t two months from our wedding day and I’m being embarrassed again.

  And I finally included him on my Instagram! What a slap in the face!

  This was beyond an assumption of cheating. It was about Trent continuing to keep pertinent information from me. Like his mother being in the hospital and him attempting to see her several times. He may share his bank account with me, but that isn’t all he’s made of. My husband still didn’t trust me. We would never get around that.

  “Jade, I know what it looks like.” April was upon me. At first my eyes were out of focus, I was so engulfed in my thoughts and the images of my husband engaging in an intimate juxtaposition with another woman. “We need to think about this and wait for Trent to explain it.”

  Too easily, I forced a smile to my face. I closed the laptop and stood, handing it to her.

  “That isn’t necessary.” My phone sounded of a text. It was Ryshon, still talking about my marriage being over so soon. Another cry wanted to erupt and I caught it again. I took a deep breath. “You got everything packed? You’re going to be hitting the road soon, right?” I made my way to the door, April was on my heels. “I’m going to pull out those brownies and ambrosia for you. Okay?”

  I didn’t wait for April to answer as I ambled down the hall, rubbing my belly.

  “You sure you gone be okay?” April asked from the front seat as I placed the pans of sweets on the floor in the back seat.

  I closed the door and walked over to her on the driver’s side.

  “Woman, I’ll be fine!” I tried to laugh.

  “Just call him. You gotta hear from him what happened.”

  “I know.” I tried to be silly and roll my neck.

  I wasn’t a good actor, but I tried deflecting.

  “You ladies don’t drink too much of that E&J!” I giggled.

  “Girl, I stole a bottle of Trent’s Mauve!” She fell into a fit of giggles. “We gone be eating and sipping good these next few days!”

  I tapped her arm inside the car then backed away. Tell your sister I said happy birthday. I’ll see you in a couple of days when you get back.”

  April was going down to Camden to celebrate her sister and a family-friend’s birthdays. She planned on returning in two days. Since she’d been staying with us, she’d spent no nights at her place. She’d only go down every other week or so and spot clean. It was fine with me. April had become a fixture around the mansion. We all enjoyed her.

  “You gone be here by yourself tonight, Jade.” Worry etched her face. “What you gone do?”

  I took a deep breath, with my arms folded over my round belly, I sighed. “Buy some furniture. You know me: always setting up shop.” I smiled tightly.

  Then I blew her a goodbye kiss, prompting her to pull out of the garage. April’s face was doused with confusion.

  My mind was not.

  ~Twenty

  Ugh!

  I rolled over to my side to sit up.

  “Young lady, let me explain something to you. I’m the queen bee around here.” I cupped my belly as I spoke
. “Will always be. And you need to know the queen sleeps at two in the morning,” I whispered forcefully.

  I dropped my palms behind me to the sides. My head went back as I tried breathing through eternally stuffy nostrils. This would mark night two of no sleep. It was Thursday—now Friday—and I felt so…off. Maybe it was because I’d missed Bible study, something I deeply enjoyed and had become dependent upon for spiritual balance. But no way could I attend this week. If ever again… It could have been the lumpy full sized mattress that once suited me, but now that I’d been sleeping in a California king for close to two years, it would no longer do. Or it could have been the smell of the new digs. The noise pollution of a city I had to retrain myself to endure after hours. Maybe it was the mother in me who worried about Kyree, sleeping in the next room. This was new for him, too; his first night.

  I sighed again, turning to my side to leave the bed. The linoleum flooring was cool to the touch as I padded out of the bedroom and into the hall. The next bedroom door was cracked. I peered inside, snaking my neck. Ky was fast asleep in his old bed, just the way he was the last time I’d checked on him. His little desk held a few of his fidget spinners and the book, When We Dream, by Nickon Harris. It was one of the last on his summer reading list. I couldn’t believe soon it would be time for school again.

  School…

  I cringed then collapsed against the doorjamb. What would I do about school? There was no way I could keep him enrolled there. I couldn’t afford the tuition and the commute in the mornings would take over an hour. And then adding a job I’d have to make it to in that time frame… Dropping the baby off at a sitter.

  I grabbed my belly.

  Finding a sitter…

  My eyes squeezed and head rolled in exhaustion and despair. How did I find myself in this situation? Why was I once again here? In a place where I was facing my deserved circumstances for a rash decision. My mistake this time? Trusting a man with my heart—my life—who didn’t trust me.