by Untamed
My mother was livid that I had agreed to go. She didn’t think I was strong enough to withstand Ryan’s wooing. I hadn’t told her about the letter and how it had affected me. If I had the strength to tell him no after that, then Ms. Charice had come a long way. You don’t understand how much power Ryan had over me. If that nigga wanted me to drop my drawers and screw him buck naked in the middle of the freeway during lunch-hour traffic, with a police roadblock set up, I would do it. Ass, titties, and pussy would be swinging and getting it all to please him. Maybe that was a little extreme, but my feelings for him had been just that, extreme. Back then, I had loved him more than I had loved myself, but the difference now was I had learned to love myself more. Although the letter, the trip, the money, and the opportunity to get down with Ryan were enticing, I wasn’t going to make myself available, period.
However, I did spend the hell out of the grand he gave me. Knee-high designer boots; designer jeans; pants; tops; stilettos, a clubbing outfit, spa treatment complete with a facial, hairdo, manicure and pedicure; and I was set. I used some of the money he’d sent for the kids and got them all new outfits as well. My babies couldn’t half step now. Damn, representing Ryan Westmore. They were representing Charice Taylor. My little dudes were GQ with their jeans, button-down shirts, sweater vests, and Polo boots. They were Sean Johned and Ralph Laurened down. Oh, and my little mama was designer galore. Looking at our duds, you’d think we were a part of the rich and famous. Well, technically, the kids were.
The first-class flight was amazing. The kids ate burgers and fries, while I ate lobster and drank champagne. After eating, I covered myself up with my warm blanket to sleep, while the kids enjoyed a movie. A sister could get used to this real quick, especially now that Ryan was financially supporting the kids. No lie, it was a happy feeling to be at work, knowing there was no financial need to be there. It felt good to collect my paycheck and not have one single, solitary bill to pay with it. My bank account had grown tremendously with the hefty child-support checks, and I was spending wisely. I had an interest-bearing savings account and a life insurance policy for the kids. I had also invested a little in the stock market, which was doing well. Your girl ain’t no slow leak, and this shit could end tomorrow if anything happened to Ryan, so I wanted to be sure that what we had multiplied.
It was two in the afternoon when we arrived in Dallas. To avoid the fans that would try to flock to him, Ryan had sent over his car service to pick us up from the airport. I didn’t feel like being bothered with the public and preferred not to be on Media Takeout before I even set foot within the city limits.
A man wearing a black suit approached us as we headed in the direction of the baggage claim. “Ms. Taylor?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“I am your limo driver. Can I assist with your baggage?” he said.
“Yes. It’s at the baggage claim.”
He walked with us to pick up our luggage, and we carried the suitcases to the car. Once we were in the car and settled in, the driver told us that we’d be at the house within twenty minutes. The kids were so full of excitement that they babbled one hundred miles an hour. On the other hand, I paid close attention to the route the driver took, in case I needed to get back to the airport on my own.
Exactly twenty-two minutes later, we pulled up to the entrance to a gated community. The guard requested the name of the person we were visiting, asked for our limo driver’s license, and wrote down his name and tag number, along with the time we arrived. After calling Ryan to confirm, the guard opened the gates. As we pulled into the neighborhood, I took in some of the most exquisite houses I’d seen in my life. The kids were all oohs and aahs. Hell, I would be too if I wasn’t busy paying attention to the turns the driver made. It was a right, left, straight, and then left again. I plugged the route into my mind. By the time we pulled into Ryan’s driveway, he was standing in the yard, with a big smile on his face.
“Daddy!” the kids yelled as they jumped out of the car and ran to him.
He ran and met them, and they all jumped on him with excitement and fell to the ground. “What’s up, kiddos? Miss me?” he asked, wrestling and tickling them.
“Yes!” they said in unison, laughing.
The driver and I laughed at the scene as he grabbed the bags out of the trunk.
“Ryan, this man probably has other work to do,” I said, bringing his focus to the driver.
Ryan jumped up. “Oh man, my bad,” he said, rushing toward us. He hugged me and held me tightly. “How you been, Ricey?”
“Just fine.”
“I can see that, but I asked how you been,” he said jokingly.
I laughed. “Whatever. You’re lame,” I said, pulling back from his embrace.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gwop of money. After peeling off two hundred dollars in bills, he tipped the driver. “Thank you. You have a good one, my man.”
The limo driver nodded his approval. “Thanks, Mr. Westmore. You do the same. Good day to you, ma’am.”
Once Ryan and I got the bags into the house, he took us on the grand tour of his estate. I called it an estate because I didn’t think I’d ever stop walking around it.
“This is your room, boys,” he said when we entered a huge bedroom with double-sized bunk beds. It was decorated with Dallas Cowboys paraphernalia and a huge Fathead of Ryan in his uniform on the wall. The room also came equipped with a PS3, an Xbox 360, PSPs, and a forty-two-inch flat-screen television with a DVD player, and the furnishings looked like something out of the Ashley Furniture catalog.
“Cool! Way cool!” Ray exclaimed, running around the room.
“Double way cool!” Ryan Jr. laughed. “Top bunk!” he yelled out.
“I wanted the top!” Ray said.
“I said it first!” Ryan yelled.
“No fair! You didn’t ask first!” Ray replied.
“Mom!” they yelled in unison.
I looked at Ryan. “The joy of having boys that are the same age,” I said, shaking my head.
“I got this.” He smiled.
I shrugged. “Go ahead, Dad.” Actually, I wanted to see how he handled his first dispute.
“Hey, guys, listen,” he said, and they turned to face him. “You two are brothers, and as brothers, you have to look out for each other. You always have to have each other’s back.”
“But—” Ryan Jr. began.
“I know, dude,” Ryan interrupted. “You called it first, but don’t you think the best thing to do is to ask your brother if you can have the top bunk?” Ryan asked his miniature-sized twin.
Ryan Jr. exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Can I please have the top bunk, Ray?”
“So I guess I’m supposed to be nice and say yes, huh?” Ray asked, looking at his dad. I had to stifle a smile. Ray was so like me. I guessed that was why he and Ryan Jr. fought all the time. It was like watching Ryan and me go at it.
“You do what you feel is right, my man,” Ryan said.
Ray rolled his eyes. “Fine, Ryan. You can have the top.”
I knew it. Just like me. He is so willing to give in to Ryan Jr., just like I gave in to Ryan Sr., I thought.
“Yes!” Ryan Jr. exclaimed as Ray gave him a sad look.
And Ryan Jr. is just like his daddy, so willing to accept his good fortune, despite others feelings, I thought.
Suddenly, Ryan Jr. noticed Ray’s expression and instantly felt bad. “Okay, well, like Daddy said, we have to have each other’s back. What if you sleep up at the top tomorrow?”
Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe he’s got a little of me in him too, or perhaps he’s changing, like his father.
Ray smiled. “Yeah! Thanks, Ryan,” he said, and they gave each other a high five. Like that, the problem was solved.
I was impressed. Ryan’s little talk about looking out for one another had gotten somewhere with them. I guess it was true. Boys did need their fathers.
I couldn’t help but clap. “Good job!”
&n
bsp; Ryan bowed. “Thank you.”
“They won’t all be that easy, you know,” I informed him.
“They can’t argue that much,” Ryan said, then looked at me, expecting me to agree.
Charity and I looked at one another and laughed. “Oh, grasshopper, you wait and see,” I said to him.
After leaving Ryan Jr. and Ray to enjoy their room, Ryan walked Charity to hers. “And this, my little princess, is for you,” he said, opening the door. The Cinderella carriage–style bed was accompanied by a vanity, a dollhouse, and every doll, book, and accessory you could imagine. Hanging on the wall was another forty-two-inch flat panel with a DVD player, and Charity’s room also came stocked with Disney movies.
“Oh, Daddy!” she squealed, hugging him tightly. “I love you.”
Ryan picked her up and held her close. Tears formed in his eyes. He had to clear his throat. “I love you too, Charity. I will spend the rest of my life showing you and your brothers just how much.”
I had to turn away. That statement touched me. Suddenly, Charity was out of Ryan’s arms and shooing us out of her room so she could set up her tea party.
“Wow. She kicked us out fast.” Ryan laughed.
“Oh yeah, love lasts only a moment with these kids, and then it’s like, ‘Okay. Go away,’” I joked. “Kind of like their father,” I added, taking a dig at him. I couldn’t help it.
He looked at me sadly. “Charice, I know I’ve been an ass, but I am sorry. I’m changing.”
“I was just joking,” I said regretfully. “Seriously, I was.”
“I guess a hit dog will holler.”
“Basically.” I giggled.
After playfully pushing me, he opened a door down the hall. “This is your room, jokester.”
“It better not be in your room,” I joked as I entered. “Wow. This is beautiful.”
The high-top bed showcased the best plush linens, a fireplace took up part of one wall, and the room was outfitted with top-notch wood furniture, including a chaise lounge, and an en suite full bath. The bedroom was complete with a sitting area, and there another forty-two-inch flat-panel TV and DVD player hung from the wall.
“I’m glad you like it.”
I sat down on the chaise lounge, lay back, and stroked my long mane. “A girl could get used to this!” I joked.
When I opened my eyes, Ryan was standing over me. “You can have this,” he said, looking down at me. His voice was sincere, and the look in his eyes told me that he hoped I felt the same way.
When I stood up, we were face-to-face. This was why I had my reservations about staying at his house. I knew he would find a way to try to open the doorway to my heart. A part of me would always love and care for Ryan. Hell, up until a few months ago, this was everything that I wanted and felt that I needed. However, after all the drama behind the Iris situation, there was no way I could look back. I still felt a pain in my heart for what could’ve been. That was what made this so damn hard.
“It’s not for me,” I told him.
“It’s all for you,” he said, pulling me close to him. “I want it to be.”
Damn my body and my emotions. Despite what my mind was saying, my pussy had a mind of its own and was two seconds from being wet when Charity burst into the room. Thank God.
“Daddy, come have tea!” she shouted, running toward him.
Ryan deflated. “Baby, can Daddy do tea later? I was really in the middle of something,” he pleaded.
Stepping out of his embrace, I waved my hands back and forth. “No, don’t let me interfere. This is all about the kids, remember?” I reminded him.
“Charice,” he pleaded.
I smiled and shook my head. “No, Daddy, you have to do tea.”
Begrudgingly, he relented. “Okay, so who wants tea?”
Charity jumped up and down. “I do! I do! Come on, Daddy,” she said, pulling him by his hand out of the room.
“We have unfinished business,” he shouted to me as I shut the door behind them.
Okay, Charice. Pull yourself together. This ain’t what you want, I pleaded with myself. This was what I was afraid of. I didn’t want Ryan to feel like I was here to give us a second chance. I was strictly here for the kids, but of course, who wouldn’t want the man they’d always loved to love them back and offer this lavish lifestyle? However, opting for it was making the choice to open a door that I had vowed to keep closed. Ryan had hurt me over and over again without any regard for my feelings, and this last time had nearly ripped my soul in half. It had taken a lot of prayers, meditation, and self-reflection to realize that I didn’t need Ryan to be complete. So I didn’t care how vulnerable I was emotionally or physically; I kept everything in perspective. Ryan and I were done.
After unpacking, I took a shower, a quick nap, and got dressed again. I loved the alone time. It was so rejuvenating. Luckily, the kids had Ryan so tied up that by the time he had a breather, it was close to dinnertime. Ryan wanted to take us to this “well-to-do” restaurant, and although I tried to explain that the kids hadn’t acquired a taste for fine dining yet, he insisted. Ryan quickly found that out for himself. Dinner was absolutely hilarious. Once we were seated, Ray and Ryan Jr. kept trying to pop one another with the linen dinner napkins, and once Charity found out they served duck, she screamed and cried and told the waiter that they killed the ducks on Old Macdonald’s Farm. While the others patrons laughed at the innocence of the moment, Ryan decided it was time to leave and tipped the waiter for the inconvenience. We settled on the ever-famous Pizza Hut.
Once we got home, I gave Charity a bath and let Ryan handle the boys. After getting Charity ready for bed, I walked her to her bedroom and then searched for Ryan to tell him to tuck her in. When I found him, he had fallen asleep beside the bottom bunk in the boys’ room. It was so cute that I had to take a picture of it, but the flash woke him up.
“How long have I been out?” he asked, jumping up.
“Not long, I’m sure, but I had to take a picture. Looks like the boys are knocked out as well. They had a long and exciting day. I was actually coming to get you to say good night to Charity.”
“I’m right behind you,” he said as he pulled the blankets up on Ray and Ryan Jr.
Once we got to Charity’s room, she was already asleep. “Looks like she couldn’t hold out,” I said, moving to tuck her in.
“Allow me, please,” he said before he pulled the blanket over her and kissed her forehead. “She is so gorgeous, just like her mom.”
“I know,” I joked as we walked out of the room. “Ryan, I really appreciate this. The kids needed this, and I’m so proud that this moment has finally come,” I said to him as we walked toward my bedroom.
“So why don’t you make the moment complete?” he asked, walking up on me.
“It already is. You have a relationship and a bond with your children, and that’s the most important thing in the world.”
“You know what I mean.”
“And you heard what I said,” I replied with a slight sternness. “Look, Ryan, I care about you and even love you, but our time has come and gone. I need for you to understand that.”
“I understand it, but I can’t accept it,” he said, holding my face between his hands. “Please, Charice. I’ll do anything you want, anything you say, and whatever you need. I’ll do it all for you.”
His request was so sincere. Even the old Ryan wasn’t as thoughtful and genuine. He was in rare form, and for the first time, I truly believed I saw his heart in action. Yet it wasn’t enough. My love for him was blind, so I had to be sure that I could see the forest for the trees when it came to him. It all seemed wonderful, but I’d been stuck on the grandeur of his wonderfulness in the past, and it had left me brokenhearted and knocked up. This time I would stick to my head and let my gut and heart take a back seat.
After taking Ryan’s hands into my own, I held them, then looked into his eyes and kissed him softly on the lips. “Thank you, Ryan. I’ve waited for so
long to hear those words come out of your mouth, but it’s too late for us. I don’t want to hurt you. I know we’ve been through a lot together, but we just cannot be together.”
As Ryan nodded slowly, I could tell his feelings were hurt. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to change your mind about us one day,” he said.
“Good night, Ryan,” I said, and then I went into my bedroom and locked the door.
* * *
When I arose this morning, I felt completely rested. Admittedly, it’d been the best night’s sleep that I’d had in a long time, if ever. Whew. I could fully understand why there were certain things that the rich became accustomed to having. Once you’d had a taste of the luxuries that came along with having money, it was hard to break back down to less. Struggling was never easy, but the struggle knew only the struggle. The problems arose when you came up from the struggle. Even simple things, like two hundred thread count versus two thousand thread count, felt like a nuisance. No doubt I felt like a brand-new woman when I went to the kitchen that morning to make some coffee. Surprisingly, I found that Ryan’s chef had prepared pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, French toast, grits, and fresh fruits, and the coffee was already brewing. Lord, a sister could most definitely get used to this. Between Ryan and this lifestyle, it was hard not to give in to Ryan’s vision of us being together.
“Good morning, Ms. Charice,” the chef said respectfully.
“Good morning,” I replied, smiling. “It sure smells good in here.”
“That may be the food or the beautiful-smelling lady in the kitchen,” Ryan said as he entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, Ryan.” I smiled, turning to face him.
“Good morning, Charice,” he said. “I woke up the kids, and they are washing up to come down and eat. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
“Did I? I barely wanted to get up.”
He laughed. “Good.”
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked, making the kids’ plates.
“Actually . . . ,” he said nervously. He walked up to me at the kitchen counter. “I have a little surprise for you and the kids today.”
