The Lies: The Lies We Tell About Love, Life, and Everything in Between

by Christina C Jones

  And maybe that’s what the problem had always been.

  I could already feel the tightening of my throat, the sting of tears behind my eyes. As I eased out of the bed without waking Kyle, my mind kept running with that thought. Maybe that’s why it had been so hard for me to believe Kyle might want more than sex from me.

  He wasn’t in the NBA anymore no, but he was still a minor celebrity due to his social media presence. He was handsome, educated, successful… could probably have any woman he wanted. But he chose a single mother with no college experience, but plenty of stretchmarks and cellulite.

  It doesn’t make sense.

  I closed my eyes as soon as I was on the other side of my bedroom door, trying to keep the tears at bay. But that was hard to do when I considered the fact that even as a teenager… Scott had been too good for me too. Coming from a family like that, with the kind of future he had ahead of him… how much stupider could I have been, expecting that he would actually want a life with me, let alone a baby?

  Shaking my head, I moved into the living room, where my shoulders sank at the steady tap-tap-tap against the windows. It was raining, which felt… completely appropriate. It matched the overwhelming gloominess that swallowed me as I curled up with the blanket on the couch, wrapping myself up like a cocoon.

  I laid there long enough for light to start stretching across the sky, seeping in through the blinds. The sun was just barely up when I felt the energy of the room change, alerting me that Kyle was there. A moment later, he was kneeling in front of me.

  “Hey.”

  I swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back into my mouth. “Hey.”

  “Why are you out here? Do I stink or something?” he asked, probably trying to make me smile.

  “Of course not,” I said, shaking my head. “Um… I think the rain woke me up, and then I just came out here.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Just to sit?”

  My mouth formed a yes, but I stopped. Couldn’t make myself say it.

  “Right,” he nodded. “Don’t even tell that lie. What’s up?”

  That question.

  Damn, did he not realize what a loaded, impossible to answer question that was? I pressed my lips together, not answering because I didn’t want to lie, but I also didn’t want to tell the truth. As soon as he dropped to his knees in front of the couch, wrapping his arms around me to pull me against his chest, the dam that had been holding back my tears… just broke.

  I sobbed openly against his bare chest for a few minutes, then let the soothing motion of his hand on my back bring me back to a thinly stretched state of calm. When he pulled back, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe across my cheeks, I closed my eyes, not opening again until he’d pressed his lips to mine.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, and I shook my head.

  “Everything. Nothing. The usual.”

  “Elaborate.”

  I pushed out a breath through my nose, frustrated. “I can’t. You know that.”

  “And yet… you always do, when pushed. So don’t bullshit. Just tell me.”

  Ugh.

  “I… I expected to feel different, now that we’re together. Expected to feel happy. I mean… everything in my life is in the best possible alignment. Everything in place, everything fits. And yet… it’s like I’m on the other side of a screen. I can see it, and smell it, and I know it’s right there, but I can’t… feel it.”

  “So… like sex with condoms?”

  “Kyle, I will stab you right now.”

  “My bad,” he laughed, pulling me into his arms again. “Just trying to lighten it up. I’m sorry. Did you ever think about what I said? About talking to somebody about it?”

  I shrugged. “I… considered it. But that just seemed like making it real. Like it would give… whatever this is more weight than it already has.”

  “But it is real, B. and ignoring it, isn’t helping you, or anybody else. You think if you just pretend it’s not there, it’ll go away by itself? Sorry to break it to you, but it doesn’t work like that.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I just… I don’t even know where to start.”

  “You start with a therapist. You’ve gotta find one that you vibe with.”

  I nodded. “You said you’d talked to someone before, right? After your injury, when you had to leave the league.”

  “Yeah. A couple of my friends had a guy they swore by, so I looked him up. He helped me quite a bit. He definitely knew what he was talking about, but he’s a pastor, so he’s talked to all kinds of different people, traveled the world, seen a lot. Changed my outlook on some things.”

  “Wait a minute – a pastor? I don’t know about all that.”

  “Nah, Ezra is cool. He’s not stuffy or anything like that, just real as hell.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Ezra? As in… Pastor Ezra Carmichael from the clips on Instagram, standing up on the pulpit all thick and bearded looking like God gave him extra doses of sexy?”

  Kyle squinted at me. “I… I don’t know about all the rest of that shit, but yeah, Ezra Carmichael.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I can’t go to him. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate if I’m lusting after my therapist. Who else you got?”

  He smiled. “I don’t have another one I can suggest, but I can help you look. Would that be okay?”

  “Of course.” He stood up, then looked at me, holding his hand out for support like he expected me to stand too. But I just looked at it, and then looked up further, at him. “Why are you doing this?”

  His shoulders raised. “Doing what?”

  “This,” I said, motioning between us. “You could be with someone with a whole lot less baggage going on, and yet—”

  “I chose you.” He shrugged. “I… I really don’t know how else to qualify that. Maybe when you look at yourself, you see all the other stuff, but when I look at you, I just see… you. Hell, I should be asking you why you’re doing this. Constant drama with my child’s mother, a bad reputation, former athlete, hell my own friends don’t even trust me with you. On paper, I’m the textbook definition of a fuckboy.”

  That made me laugh. “I’m not even thinking about any of that.”

  “Exactly my point. Now come on, get up. Let’s get something to eat, and find you a shrink.”

  I stood up, but the thought of eating made me want to gag. “I’ll pass on breakfast.”

  Kyle frowned. “When is the last time you ate something?”

  “I… oh.”

  Shit.

  Now that the question had been asked, I realized how much harder it was than it should be to answer. And when I came to the answer, I didn’t want to say it out loud, because I didn’t want to deepen that look of concern on his face.

  “That long, huh?” he asked, when I still hadn’t answered.

  I pushed out a sigh. “I just haven’t had an appetite. I’m fine.”

  “You can’t be fine when you’re running on fumes,” Kyle said, leading me into the kitchen. “I need you to try to eat something. A couple of strawberries, a scrambled egg, something. Before you pass out.”

  “I’m not going to pass out,” I said drily, as if he were being dramatic, but the words were barely off my lips when a little wave of lightheadedness really did sweep across me. I had to grip the counter for balance for a few seconds before I lowered myself into a seat.

  Kyle shook his head. “See?” he asked. “I’m gonna fix you something, we’ll eat, and then we’ll get this therapist thing worked out. Sound like a plan?”

  I looked up from the counter to find him intently focused on me, with obvious concern in his eyes. For that moment at least, I felt like I saw this situation clearly.

  He cares. I should let him.

  I nodded.

  “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.”

  &

  Dr. Layla Alexander.

  I grazed my fingers over the name on the card and closed my eyes, still reeling over the fact that I
’d actually done it. I’d had to go to the office, make the appointment in person, and on the way out, had grabbed the card, even though I knew every piece of information on it.

  Was I admitting to being weak? To being… crazy?

  If there was one thing I could count on from the people in my life, it was them being supportive. They always had words of encouragement for me. I heard the words “You’re so strong” so often that it started to feel like part of who I was. Like I couldn’t be – or at couldn’t show, anything else.

  So I didn’t.

  Not even Iris knew the depths that clouds of gloominess had taken me before, had taken me often. As most would, she just called it moodiness, gave me the space I’d made it clear I wanted. But I’d known for a while it was something deeper than that. It had just taken Kyle to call me out on it.

  He was right though.

  I couldn’t just keep ignoring it, not when I felt like it was getting worse. When my life was getting progressively better, but nothing in my head was changing… I certainly wouldn’t call it an improvement.

  “Brandi… are you okay?”

  I looked up to see Marshall standing on the other side of the table, handsome as ever. The sight of him reminded me that I was at the salon, and I had no idea how long I’d been sitting in the breakroom, staring at this card.

  “Uh, yeah,” I answered, pulling myself up from my chair. I tucked the card into my pocket. “Just daydreaming, I guess. How are you?”

  He smiled. “I’m good. And I found someone for that other Logan Lewis ticket, if you cared to know.”

  “Oh good.”

  I did care to know, because I’d felt incredibly bad about having to decline his invite to what would probably be an amazing concert. He’d told me about it at the end of our date, but I’d been – reasonably – up front with him, to let him know I didn’t want to move forward. I told him I was concerned about dating someone who worked at the same salon, which was true. I told him I had too much going on in my personal life to introduce a new love interest into the mix, which was also true. I did not tell him about Kyle.

  In any case, he was gracious. Disappointed, sure, especially considering that he’d already purchased the concert tickets, in anticipation of our date going well. Presumptuous, yes, but being proactive about plans was a great quality in a man.

  Marshall was probably going to make whoever his new date was a happy woman.

  “I’m sorry about that, again,” I said, stopping a few feet away from him. “I really shouldn’t have agreed to the date in the first place, but I… somehow didn’t realize just how complicated my life was until after.”

  Marshall shrugged. “It happens sometimes. But… I hear “complicated” and I think there must’ve been another man in the picture.” My eyes went wide, and Marshall laughed. “I see I’m right. Your son’s father finally got right?”

  I blushed. “Uh… no. Someone else.”

  He nodded. “Well, in any case, no hard feelings… especially since Ariel is who I’m taking to the concert. I was thinking it would be cool if you could maybe… not mention that you and I had been out? Even if it was just the one date.”

  I smiled, thinking of Ariel – the warm, bubbly, sun ray of a woman who worked the reception desk up front. “What date, Marshall? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He chuckled as he extended his arms for a hug, and after a half-second of hesitation, I accepted, and he didn’t make me regret it. The hug was friendly, and instead of lingering, after a few seconds he let me go.

  “You be good, okay?” he asked, as he headed for the door.

  “You too,” I called, then pulled the card back out of my pocket to look at it again. That little run-in could’ve gone so much differently, but it had been pleasant instead, making me wonder if just the fact that I had an appointment with a therapist had set off some kind of good mojo.

  The positive energy shift was already working.

  &

  This boy better be glad I love him.

  Otherwise, I’d have my ass somewhere air-conditioned, instead of baking in the sun on the bleachers outside. It was unseasonably hot out, and I was feeling every ungodly degree of the record high temperature as I watched Zion on the court.

  All because he’d gotten suspended from the center.

  I wasn’t mad about him getting suspended, not even remotely. I probably would have been upset with him, honestly, if he’d watched a kid his age picking on KJ, who was still a baby, and done nothing. Obviously, I didn’t want him fighting, but if there was any reason to take it there, I could certainly understand why he felt that was one.

  Anyway, there I was, in the bleachers. Not for the first time, I wondered if I was doing too much by insisting on being here at all. It wasn’t as if this were some official game, he was just playing with his friends. He wasn’t little anymore, he was a teenager. He didn’t need me watching over him.

  I just couldn’t help it.

  With everything going on these days, with abductions, and white supremacists roaming around, and trigger happy police, I couldn’t stand the idea of my son being anywhere that there wasn’t an adult responsible for him around. Of course I couldn’t protect him from everything, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to.

  That boy was my lifeline.

  Any time I slipped too low, the fact that he needed me brought me right back. I understood that the course of my life would have been different were it not for him, but I still couldn’t imagine not having his presence to center myself on.

  I’d have to soon though.

  Soon, he’d be an adult, and wouldn’t need me like he did before. Already he was getting more mature, more independent, and before long, my attention would be an annoyance.

  Even more reason to be glad for the appointment with Dr. Alexander tomorrow. For a long, long time, my life had been focused around Zion – maybe unhealthily so. If I was going to move forward, and a way to live in peace, I couldn’t do that anymore. Not that Zion would be any less light in my life, or any less important… but I couldn’t keep using him as a crutch, right?

  I smirked.

  All this self-reflecting I was doing, I was going to end up not even needing a therapist after all.

  “Ms. Brandi!”

  I looked up from watching Zion to see KJ racing toward me, a sight that immediately made me smile. I made the sign for “hello” to him, and his whole face lit up in surprise.

  I climbed down from the bleachers to give him a little hug, then straightened up, looking around for Kyle. He’d told me he was staying late at his studio, so I hadn’t planned to see him until later. And if I remembered correctly, he wasn’t supposed to have KJ today at all.

  That’s odd.

  A few seconds later, I realized what was off.

  KJ wasn’t here with Kyle, he was here with his mother who, judging from the panic-stricken look on her face as she rounded the jungle gym, didn’t realize where he’d run off to. Before I could call out to her, she looked in our direction. Her first reaction was relief, and then, right behind it, suspicion.

  I may have known who she was, but she didn’t know me.

  I knew her when I saw her because of a trip down the social media rabbit hole, with Gia and Iris. With their help, I’d found her on those sites, then proceeded to be as nosy as I possibly could. Not because I wanted to be messy, but because I was genuinely curious.

  And… there may have been a little tinge of jealousy.

  Audrey was an incredibly attractive woman.

  Smooth chocolate skin, face like a model, body like someone who was fit for a living – and she kind of was, judging from her Instagram. Just like Kyle, it was obvious that she doted on KJ, and there were even pictures of the three of them together, even though they didn’t follow each other.

  I was really nosy.

  “Come here KJ,” she said, and he did. She gave me a little bit of a sideeye, and then turned to him, signing something I wasn’t n
early well-versed enough to understand. They went back and forth a little bit, and then KJ ran off to be near Zion. Audrey glanced at me again, still wearing that strange look on her face.

  Feeling awkward, I took a few steps closer to her, with my hand extended. “Brandi Ellis,” I told her, when she accepted my hand. “KJ is pretty fond of my son, Zion. And the feeling is mutual, even though Zion is older.”

  “Where do they know each other from?” Audrey asked, crossing her arms. “He told me you were his friend’s mother, but those boys are too old to be in any of KJ’s classes, and I never see you around here.”

  “Oh, the community center. Zion is all about basketball, but he prefers the indoor court. And so does my wallet, because pavement eats up those expensive shoes much faster than hardwood,” I laughed, but the expression on Audrey’s face had shifted yet again.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t a shift that made it more pleasant. Actually, the opposite.

  “So… basketball at the community center. That means you’ve met his father.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

  For some reason, that made her laugh, and she shook her head. “Typical.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh girl, please. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re a pretty girl, the kids befriended each other… I’m sure Kyle has taken advantage of that.”

  “O-kay,” I said, with a frustrated huff. “You don’t even know me, so you can keep your assumptions about me to yourself. The only reason I’m even talking to you is because I wanted you to understand that I wasn’t some random stranger talking to your son. You can keep that other shit.”

  Audrey propped a hand on her hip. “Oh, you’re one of the sassy ones, huh? What’s up? How’d you break the ice with Kyle, huh? What did you do, encourage your son to make friends with mine? I see you’re not wearing a ring, not married. Did you tell your son that if he did it, he’d get a new daddy?”

  “Funny, bitch,” I said, bringing a smile to my face as I turned fully in her direction. “But my son has a father. He doesn’t need a new one.”

  She smirked. “Fine, bitch. How about we just cut the pretense here, because also KJ told me that you’re his daddy’s girlfriend. So you’ve been around my son, but I haven’t heard shit about you, so I have a little problem with that,” she hissed, moving so that there was barely a foot of space between us – space that I had no issue closing.