Hate to Love You

by Ivy Symone

  I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to tell me that he didn’t deserve me. And before I could respond to that, he managed to say, “Sorry.”

  I knew right then that I wasn’t going anywhere. I also knew that things between us were about to be different. I used to hate that I loved him so much. I wanted to not love him. Sure, I hated the things he done and the way he mistreated me, but I was still an advocate for change. All I ever wanted was for him to love me in the same way that I loved him. I believe that moment had come.

  Chapter 18

  Four weeks later

  I held Marcos hand and looked at him sleeping. He looked so peaceful. I think he was at peace. I think he had come to terms with the fact that he knew he hadn’t been the best man he could have possibly been. He also accepted that what happened to him was a direct consequence of it. I tried to tell him I didn’t agree with that but he made me be quiet by placing his hand over my mouth and shaking his head. He waved his hand dismissively and shrugged with a smile. That was his way of saying he was okay with it.

  Beverly waltzed into the room like she always did as if she was the Queen of Sheba.

  “I got here as soon as I could,” she said holding out her hands to examine them. She started rambling on and on. “I was in the middle of getting my mani-pedi when you called me earlier. The first young lady doing my manicure didn’t seem to know what she was doing. I told them I couldn’t have anyone practicing on me. Kayla, the girl who usually does my nails, wasn’t there. So—”

  “Beverly,” I said softly.

  She continued to talk a mile a minute. “I agreed to let that young girl give it a try. I should have known better. She looked as if she had just gotten off the boat and didn’t know a lick of English.”

  I tried again, “Beverly.”

  “Yes, dear,” she said walking over to the other side of Marcos. “How’s he doing? Andrés should be here any minute. I just spoke to him.”

  “Beverly, Marcos left us about an hour ago.”

  A stunned Beverly looked at me then at her son lying in the hospital bed. It finally registered that all of the machinery was off and disconnected. The room was quiet.

  Beverly shook her head in disbelief. “No. He’s not gone yet,” she covered her mouth in shock as she started to cry. “Is he, Neph?”

  The tears began to fall from my eyes once again confirming the answer to her question. I had been sitting at his bedside for more than an hour. As a matter of fact, I had been here everyday for hours at a time ever since he had been admitted a little over a week before. It all happened so fast and it seemed like it was out of the blue.

  I was able to spend a little over two weeks with my husband. He wasn’t his old self and it didn’t look like he would have ever be that person again. And it wasn’t just about him being an abusive man. His physical self would have never returned to who he used to be.

  I think out of the entire nineteen years of being with him, these past few weeks I loved him the most. We laughed a lot with the kids. Yanna had become his little guardian and catered to him. I think his death was going to have the biggest effect on her out of all of the kids. Like me, she was losing someone she was just getting in her life.

  Like I said, things took a sudden change for the worst. We went to his appointment with the nephrologist and the results of in-office diagnostic tests alarmed the doctor right away. Marcos’ kidneys failed as a result of his PKD, and his toxin levels were through the roof. Sepsis set in quickly and it progressed rapidly within days. Everything started shutting down. If he had complained at the first onset of symptoms, then maybe he would still be with us. I knew he had seemed weaker and it seemed as if he was overexerting himself during physical therapy. I’m not sure if I chose to ignore it because it was a tell tale sign of what was to come, or if I dismissed it as no big deal. Whichever the reason, Marcos didn’t want me worrying.

  He held on as long as he could. He took his last breath an hour ago.

  I didn’t want to let go of his hand but I had to comfort Beverly. Jovelyn and Lailani both entered the room right as Beverly lost it and had a breakdown. Hospital staff responded to assist in calming her down.

  With red swollen eyes, Jovelyn walked over to me. “Have you told the kids yet?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t ready to tell them. I wish I didn’t have to.

  “Go ahead and tell Marcena so she can be on her way home,” Jovelyn said.

  I took my phone out and sent Marcena a text: He’s gone, come home

  Seconds later my phone was ringing. It was Marcena. I couldn’t talk to her so I passed the phone to Jovelyn. My sister told her again that her father, Marcos Delgado Beauchamp had passed away. I could faintly hear Marcena’s hysterical cries coming from the phone.

  After Jovelyn ended the call with her she passed me my phone back. She asked, “What do you need me to do?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing right now.”

  My phone began ringing. It was Azul. I answered it trying to sound normal. “Hello?”

  “Is he gone for real?” my son cried into the phone.

  Dammit! Marcena must have called or text her siblings. I sighed, “Yes, he’s gone.”

  I didn’t know what to say to comfort him so I listened to Azul crying into the phone. I could hear someone in the background asking him what was the matter. The next thing I knew Bleu was on the phone in disbelief. They told me they were leaving school right then.

  After ending the call with them I debated if I should let the others finish their day in school or go ahead and get them early. I sent Corvell, Chrissy, Nikki, Gogo, and Quan a group text.

  I thought back to Ada and what she said. “God sho do have a way of making a person be still and seein’ thangs a lil diff’rently.”

  He did. I love you Marcos.

  A month later…..

  It was the Adele Beauchamp School of Music and Theatre’s winter performance. This was one of the events I always looked forward to. All of the kids participated in some type of skit, dance, music or something. I loved it. These kids were remarkably talented.

  This year, I decided to do an impromptu contemporary solo dance to Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran but it was performed live by one of the students, Grace Masters as she played on an acoustic guitar. It was dedicated to Marcos.

  I didn’t think it would be so difficult to actually get through it. I had heard Grace sing this song so many times, but this night it did something different to me. I was overwhelmed with so many emotions. I realized I was angry. It wasn’t fair. I was so mad at Marcos. It seemed as though he gave me what I always wanted and in that same moment of time, he had taken it away.

  I had been going through some of Marcos’ belongings after his burial, trying to find all of the good things about him for me to hold onto. And in the box that held the things recovered from his car accident was a small notepad. I flipped through the tattered pages until I got to a page with a bunch of random scribbling and words jotted down. When I paid more attention to it I realized that these were random thoughts of Marcos’ in his handwriting. Circled several times, he made a note: Have Neph to make me appt w/therapist. Then there was a little list: work on being a better man, a better father, brother, son, and husband. My name was in all caps by itself and circled many times. There was also random notes jotted such as; Call Lil’ Don for twins party, call Steve, f/u with doctor.

  This piece of paper confirmed for me that Marcos was aware that he was sick. And according to the paper he knew before the twins’ birthday party. Steve was his accountant. After Marcos’ funeral, Steve met with me to go over all of the financial securities Marcos had in place for us. So Marcos knew what was to come. But I think what touched me the most was when I flipped to the next page.

  Nephia,

  I know you hate me. I hate me too. But Neph I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you…

  He had listed all of our names, the kids, and mine down in a row. He misspelled Raiyne’s name
though. He never wanted to put the ‘i’ in her name.

  I just stared at the paper and cried.

  I was sad. I was also happy. I grieved Marcos’ death for two weeks. I isolated myself. I broke some things. I even called and cussed Terra out just because. Then I called back to ask if Brittani could come over to the house.

  Once I got all of that out I was able to make some peace with everything. But where do I go from here? I still had a lot of healing to do. Not so much as dealing with my ability to give love another chance, but removing the insecurities that were associated with my turbulent relationship I once had with Marcos. I hope I wasn’t too messed up for the next man.

  The rest of the night was astounding. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect program. I was proud of everyone. But even with my touching solo, Special K still stole the show during her group’s performance. She had a natural way of performing that pulled an audience in. Her facial expression alone put on a show. Her confidence was enough for ten kids. There was absolutely nothing shy about that girl.

  Speaking of, Kennedi and Bless walked up to me during the aftershow reception.

  Sweetly, Bless said, “I just wanted to come over to say hi.”

  I smiled, “It’s nice seeing you. Your niece did an amazing job.”

  “Well, so did you. You and the rest of the staff do a wonderful job with all of the kids, but that dance you did earlier—Oh!” Bless clutched her chest as she sighed. “It moved me to tears.”

  “Tears?” Kennedi questioned with skepticism. “Tears Tee-tee?”

  “Oh hush,” Bless said playfully tapping her shoulder.

  “Did Daddy cry too?” Kennedi asked. “You know that’s Daddy song. Daddy listens to that song all the time. He had it playing over and over one day. I was like dang! I said ‘Daddy, if you don’t stop that song I’m gonna think out loud upside yo’ head’. I sure did.”

  Bless said, “You did not tell your daddy that!”

  “I did too. Ask him,” Kennedi said. She was so serious in her tone that it was cute.

  “Bebe!” Bless called. She waved to someone that wasn’t in my view just yet. She turned to me and asked me, “You haven’t met my brother yet, have you?”

  “Daddy hardly ever come to the school,” Kennedi stated.

  Bless grasped Kennedi’s daddy’s arm to pull him over and said, “Bebe, this is Nephia, one of Kennedi’s instructors here at the school.”

  I was already wearing a smile to greet the man, but my smile broadened even more when I was staring into a very familiar face. A little thrown off, I said, “Hey.”

  Bebe returned the same giddy grin and said, “Hey.”

  Oblivious to our existing knowledge of one another, Bless went on to say, “Bebe, this is also the one that I was telling you about.”

  “Yeah, I kinda figured that out,” he said not taking his eyes off of me.

  Then it finally registered to me. If Bebe was the brother that Bless spoke of during that therapy session, then he’s the one that lost his wife-to-be the day they were supposed to get married. It made sense. I wasn’t even mad anymore.

  Kennedi had to prove that she told her daddy to stop listening to that song. Bebe confirmed that she was telling the truth. Another student Kennedi’s age pulled her away and Bless had to go to the ladies’ room, which left me and Bebe standing there.

  “So, your name isn’t Blake?” I asked.

  “No, it’s Blyss but people call me Bebe. Blake was short for my last name.”

  Kennedi Blakemore! Of course!

  “Zero five two four?” I asked curiously. I think I already had the answer.

  “If Bless told you the story about her brother that was supposed to get married, that’s the date it was supposed to happen.”

  I looked up at him with empathy. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m good,” he said. He then asked, “So, your husband recently died?”

  I nodded.

  “It’s funny you dedicated that dance to him and the whole time I was watching you I couldn’t help but to think about Miki. She wanted to do this. She talked of being a dancer. I wanted to…”

  His voice trailed off and I could tell his mind was going back in time. He was still hurting over the loss of his wife-to-be. It was evident.

  “Is your heart still broken?” I asked.

  “Something like that,” he said quietly. He then stated, “You know they’re iffy.”

  “What?”

  “Broken hearts; they can’t be trusted. Today they tell you one thing but tomorrow it could be something else.”

  I laughed softly in revelation. “And one minute they love to hate you and the next they Hate to Love You.”

  Our eyes locked onto one another’s in a knowing way. Something existed between us. It was intangible, but it was there.

  Bebe finally broke our odd silence and said, “My number is still the same. I mean, this isn’t under the circumstances in which I wanted to hear from you again, but if you need an empathetic ear, I’m here.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I smiled.

  He smiled back. “And you are so much more beautiful in person.”

  I blushed of course. I reciprocated the compliment. “And you’re very very handsome in person.”

  “Call me…when you’re ready. Okay?”

  I nodded. He sorta did this reassuring nod as he walked away. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he went to talk to Grace’s father.

  “Bitch, who is that?” Corvell asked as he came and stood beside me.

  On the other side of me stood Nikki. She said, “Is he a prospect?”

  I turned to face them both with the brightest smile. “That is Special K’s daddy. And remember the friend I was talking to from that dating app?”

  Nikki looked at me as if she didn’t believe me. “Why you playing?”

  “Him?” Corvell asked in disbelief.

  I nodded. “That’s him.”

  “Well, what’s up with that?” Corvell wanted to know.

  “Nothing,” I simply said.

  “That ain’t how y'all was looking. It’s something,” Nikki pointed out.

  “It’s too soon,” I said.

  Corvell said, “Well honey, when too soon is over with, you let that be the first on your to do list. And I mean to-do! Baby, boom!”

  I shook my head. Corvell was forever a mess.

  Bebe and I had some things in common. He and I both had a taste of the same struggles. He knew domestic violence in one way and I knew it in another. Clearly the death of his loved one had a profound effect on him as the death of my loved one did for me. We were both broken yet repairable. It would take time. And as I stated to Corvell and Nikki, it was too soon, or maybe that’s what I had convinced myself.

  To my surprise, later that night a text message from Blake popped up on my phone: The man/woman who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones...Things seem kinda tough now but I promise, you will make it through.

  I smiled uncontrollably. I text back: Thank you!

  And now my journey begins…