Distorted Perceptions

by Diana W

  He wiped his shirt sleeve across his face seemingly unfazed. “You used to tell me that you could listen to me talk for hours about the color blue.” His tone went somber. “Would pop up in my lectures every now and then. Top row. Careful not to distract me. Do you even remember our first date?”

  I was still reeling so he had to excuse me if I didn't feel like strolling down memory lane with his disrespectful ass. He must've expected me not to respond because he walked away towards our wedding pictures observing them like he'd never seen them before.

  "You wouldn't let me hold your hand. Noticeably uncomfortable if I stared at you too long. And you had this sadness in your eyes that told me you were carrying the weight of the world around. But when I started talking, like really got into my bag discussing slavery...The Code Noir to be exact, your eyes lit up and I knew that's how I'd get you to open up to me. Fall in love with me." He picked up the very picture I was crying my eyes out over the morning after I found him cheating. "Word by word. Syllable by syllable."

  Silence fell over the room as I continuously fought off the memory. “Maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong. After all these years, maybe I was just a temporary fix for you. You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

  "What the hell are you even talking about?” I backed away. “No...I don’t love him.” That implication was preposterous. Yeah, I probably could've pulled any dude I wanted but it just so happened to be Julian because I ran into him.

  And he was apologetic.

  And he was still fine.

  But being with him was no way related to love. A sort of high maybe. Whatever it was, it made me feel good enough to forget about all of this, even if it was temporary. “And you’re changing the subject of what this is really about.”

  “No. No, I’m not.” He took his tie off completely. “This is about my wrongdoing and how we got here but everything just became so clear to me. You have baggage you refuse to let go of and I’m done trying to unpack it for you.” He began unbuttoning his newly stained shirt headed in the direction of the staircase. “You never got your closure. With Shanice. With...Julian.” He said his name like it made him ill.

  “That was over ten years ago. It has nothing to do with this.”

  I had my god damn closure. Shanice had demons that trumped our friendship and Julian was just as scared and confused as I was and chose to run away.

  “You say that, but I remember us in the beginning. You couldn't even stand the sight of your own face. This look of terror in your eyes at the hint of anything related to intimacy.” He headed up the stairs with my full attention. “You don’t think I sensed that the first time I met you.”

  This was the first time he’d spoken of it. Anytime he talked about the day we met, it was usually about how beautiful he thought I and my gliding car was. I didn’t realize my emotionally fucked ways were that transparent.

  “So afraid that if you got close to anyone, they’d abandon you. And in some sick ass twisted way, you’re back, dealing with the same fucking person who caused this trauma. Well...one of em.”

  I followed behind him, two steps at a time. “Since you seem to have answers for every single thing about me, why would you move forward with me knowing all of that? Could’ve saved me and you from further heartbreak.”

  “You still don’t get it.” He grabbed one of the empty suitcases from the open corner of our bedroom. He threw it on the floor near the closet door and unzipped it as I stood by the doorway watching him.

  “What am I not getting?”

  He hugged the last bit of his clothes that were hanging up. He unhooked them from the rack and dropped them into the suitcase. “I tried to fix you, but it wasn’t my place to.”

  “There is nothing wrong with me!” I slapped the top of the dresser. Exhausted by this reverse psychology ploy. “You’re saying all this stuff to try and confuse me and it’s not fair.”

  “I’m not doing anything but finally admitting some things to you that I should’ve done a long time ago.” He dumped a drawer of ties into the pile.

  He then reached for our purple box of memories we kept at the top of the closet. Movie tickets, Broadway playbills and anything you could think of that we experienced together. When he pulled out the final notes from his doctoral dissertation, I bolted over to him.

  “You can’t take that!” I snatched the papers from his hand along with the box.

  “Why? They’re mine.” He stood there bewildered.

  “Because...” I stuffed the papers back into the box searching for a suitable answer to offer.

  I stayed up countless nights helping him with his proposal, researching possible topics, letting him bounce ideas off me to see if he was headed in the right direction. Now that I think of it, him choosing to write about saving our black women as it relates to our struggle with black men and the world, was irony at its best. I earned that degree right along with him. He didn’t get to pick and choose what he wanted to take from this box. They were our memories.

  “Because what?” He stared at me curiously, as if he knew the exact thoughts on my mind. Like he was testing me.

  I walked away from him and slid the box under the bed. I took my seat, frustrated that I couldn’t voice why those memories were important to me when I shouldn’t have to. He should be kissing my feet, begging me to stay with him because he messed up. Not this.

  “What's your next steps with her?” I sat at the edge of the bed, glaring at him.

  “There are no next steps with her. I haven’t seen her since that night and I wasn’t trying to see her even then because once again, having a baby requires sleeping with her.” He zipped up the suitcase and positioned it upright. “But do you even believe that?”

  My eyes dropped to my naked feet. I honestly didn’t know if I did or not and Elliot’s deep sigh told me he understood that response.

  “You say you don’t love him but allowed him back in the very part of you that was reserved for me. We had something special once upon a time, but you won’t attempt to reconcile with me. I hope once your anger and hurt settle that deep down this isn’t some sort of therapeutic revenge tactic for you.”

  I tilted my head upward just enough for eye contact. “Revenge?”

  “For how he abandoned you. For how I hurt you. Yes, revenge.”

  I stood to my feet. “Sorry to disappoint you but I’m not into spiteful games.”

  “Yeah,” he said dryly as he picked up the suitcase. “Me either.”

  He paused momentarily glancing over me, then around the room. “I think that’s the last of everything besides some of the old boxes in the attic. As soon as I find a lawyer, I’ll send the information over for you.” He said it so formally that it threw me off. Speaking to me like some associate at work.

  “Ok”. I suddenly felt that prickly sensation in the back of my eyes. Why was I even reacting like this? On top of him basically calling me a revengeful hoe, he hadn’t stayed at the house in months. I should be putting my foot in his ass to help get him out the door even faster.

  But this time felt so real. So permanent.

  I needed to hold it together at least until he made it out of the front door.

  “Ok,” he nodded but it wasn’t as confidently as the rest of his declarations. It seemed like neither one of us knew the correct move to make. To be honest, I don’t think there was one.

  We stared at each for a brief minute and then he turned to leave. I didn’t attempt to move from my spot on the bed. When I failed to hear his heavy footsteps down the stairs, I froze wondering if maybe he was reconsidering doing this. Maybe he was going to fall on his knees and come groveling with tears to beg me for another chance. The sound of him approaching the room made me adjust my slouched position into a more upright and confident one.

  “Before I forget,” he held up two keys and placed them on the dresser. “I’ll call before I come over next time.”

  He left without my response as I swallowed the lum
p in my throat at the sound of the front door opening and closing.

  "You ok?” Cooper questioned across from Denise who was stirring her barely touched bowl of broccoli and cheese soup.

  “Yeah... Yes.” She perked up smiling. “Sorry if I’m being a shitty lunch partner.”

  Denise reached out to Cooper letting him know that she’d planned on coming to this specific sandwich shop for lunch and if he wasn’t busy, he was welcomed to join her.

  “You wanna talk about it?’ His eyebrows hiked hoping she’d be inclined to disclose what was obviously bothering her.

  For a brief moment, she stared out the large window debating if she should. He was still a stranger by all definitions but their conversation that night at the bar was different, genuine in every sense of the word. She never felt like he was trying to hit on her or make her uncomfortable, which in this day and time was hard to do. It was never her intent to reach out to him in person, but she honestly felt like being around somebody who wasn’t the cause of her crappy day. Gerald was still carrying on like nothing was wrong between the two of them and she had no interest in calling Cass. It was pretty embarrassing to discuss the situation about her husband, so she opted for her sister instead.

  “Got into it with my sister and it’s taking unusually long for us to get past it. Well me rather.” She shrugged, bringing her attention back to him.

  Cass did text her a couple of days after their argument but Denise didn’t find herself interested in responding. She refused to get over her sister foolishly walking into a complete disaster of a situation.

  “Ahh,” he sighed. “Sibling rivalry. I’m fluent in it.”

  He leaned back against remembering his war of a childhood with his own.

  “Yeah, well...she’s being really naïve about a man, who is not her husband may I add, and is pissed at me for telling her about herself. Crazy right?” Denise put her spoon down feeling herself getting worked up again.

  “Yikes. So, she’s cheating on her husband?” Cooper played into the story, attempting to act oblivious to a situation he was already familiar with.

  “No,” Denise quickly defended. “It’s not like that. Her and her husband are separated. I mean I guess that’s the best way to put it. The problem is that she hasn’t sorted her emotions with the separation and now she’s carrying on with this man, that I just know isn’t good for her.”

  Now this was what Cooper was waiting to hear about.

  “Well, what makes you think he isn’t good for her?”

  Denise was hesitant about putting anymore of her sister’s business out there but maybe hearing an objective point of view could prove to be helpful.

  “She used to date him back in college and even though I was still in high school, she just started to seem...different.” Denise reflected on her sister’s change in behavior even before Shanice died.

  “Different?”

  “Yeah, different. Everything she talked about had Julian’s name tossed into the mix like she couldn’t make a move without his permission.”

  Cooper’s hope deflated if that was the most information she could offer. “Hate to break it to you but it sounds like she was in love and you being the younger sister, weren’t getting much of her time or attention anymore.”

  Denise shook her head in disagreement. “No, it’s more than that.”

  Cooper opened his hands urging her to continue.

  “Ok, so, I remember one time I was on the phone with her, telling her about my school’s homecoming dance that was coming up. We were doing that whole girly thing of discussing what I should wear and how to do my hair and his voice comes booming in the background, questioning her about some guy he saw her walking with after one of her classes.”

  Seemed like a justifiable argument for a couple at that age Cooper thought to himself.

  “She didn’t hang up or anything. She laughed it off telling him it was this guy that grew up in the same neighborhood as us and automatically I knew she was talking about Jeremy. Jeremy lived like a block down from us. Our parents were friends with his so he was always around in some form or fashion, but it was always platonic. Truth be told,” Denise gave Cooper a look, “I think Jeremy shared our interests in boys but that’s neither here nor there.”

  That sentiment got an amused snort from Cooper.

  “Anyway,” Denise started back up. “Even after she tells him that, he’s still yelling at her and then he starts cursing her out and I’m just sitting on the phone trying to figure out why the hell he was talking to her like that and even more so, why was she letting him. As much as she swooned about how sweet and charming he was, she never mentioned him acting like that when he got mad.”

  Cooper hummed. “You don’t think it was an isolated incident?”

  “I wish I could believe it was,” Denise fidgeted with her fingers. “Thinking about it more and more lately, he was just downright possessive. What she did. What she wore. How often she talked to me or our parents. I mean I was a teen, but I wasn’t stupid and although she never told me he physically did anything to her, I just feel like his muthafuckin ass did.” She held her mouth seeming to catch herself. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” he disregarded it. “So why would she be ok dealing with this guy again? I mean, he kind of sounds like a dick.”

  “Exactly my whole point!” Denise annoyingly threw her hands up. “I don’t know if she thinks he’s changed but men like that only get worse if they don’t think they have a problem. He’s lucky he disappeared before I was old enough to put him in his place.”

  She thought about the time she wanted to drive the two-hour trip up to Cass’s dorm and introduce Julian to her dad’s Louisville Slugger. Her lack of a driver’s license was the only thing that put a wrench in that whole scheme.

  “Disappeared?” Cooper leaned forward this time.

  “Yeah,” Denise finally took a sip of her soup. Discussing her sister seemed to be lifting a weight from her. “That’s a whole additional element of drama. Her roommate, God rest her soul, committed suicide and then this same guy went and left her high and dry. It was all bad. It seemed like she’d been getting the short end of the stick until she met my brother-in-law. Well, until he up and pulled this cheating slash baby mama shit.”

  Cooper kept his poker face intact, but he was thrilled with this info. “Damn. Sounds like your sister’s been through it.”

  “Yeah,” Denise reveled in that same belief. “I’m tired of being the bigger person though,” she borderline whined already knowing she was going to be the one reaching out to Cass first.

  “But, that’s still your blood and they deserve to be looked out for even if they’re being too blind to see it.”

  “Stupid,” she quickly corrected.

  “Or that,” Cooper smiled.

  “You sure you’re not gay?” Denise asked casually with her nose scrunched up making him choke on his spit.

  “What?”

  “I mean you’re here offering me advice about my sister. Never tried to hit on me and I’m just spilling all my business out to you. Oh, and I hate to break it you,” She leaned over the table. “But you’re white.”

  Cooper panicked and started touching his face. “Oh shit. Give me your sunglasses before somebody notices.”

  Denise squealed covering her laughter with both hands. He was sexy no doubt, and the whole blue-eyed thing was distracting.

  Chapter 14

  A fog.

  That’s the best way to describe my current state of mind.

  After Elliott left, I sat there at the edge of the bed staring into space for God knows how long. Constantly trying to reassure myself that this heart stabbing feeling was normal. That the waves of anxiety would eventually pass. That the unknown of what tomorrow would bring was ok. Yet, even when the sun came up, all those feelings were still hovering. Clenched to me like the Louisiana summer heat.

  I somehow managed to get dressed to go to Sultry. I didn’t plan on staying long
today and could honestly skip going entirely but I refused to let these feelings confine me to my bed or this house.

  I went to drop my phone in my purse and happened to notice the combination of missed calls and texts from Julian. Fifteen in total to be exact. A bit excessive but then again, he did have a run in with Elliott and was probably worried about what happened between us following his departure.

  “Hey. I’m so sorry about last night,” I said the second he picked up. “I didn’t mean to get you involved in anything between us.”

  “Shit Cass. You had me driving by your house to make sure he ain’t do something crazy to you.”

  “It’s fine,” I sighed. “Elliott wouldn't hurt a fly, but I do apologize for making you worry.”

  “Yeah, ok. Men have done crazier things behind a woman they love.” Julian persisted. “I’d hate to have to beat his ass in front of you.”

  Didn’t I just say Elliott wasn’t like that? I understood the whole bravado act but he needed to scale it back a few.

  “Like I said, we’re good. I’m about to leave out for work though, so I’ll call you later.”

  “You sure baby? You don’t sound too well. Maybe you should stay home today. I could come over to help you relax,” He offered.

  Something about the way he said “baby” hit a nerve. Or was it him assuming he was invited into my home? Whatever it was, he was being pushy when all I wanted was a moment to breathe. A damn minute to deal with everything Elliott unloaded on me.

  “Nah, I’m good. Hit you later.” I hung up without his response.

  ****

  I walked into Sultry, tossing my hand up for a greeting at Erica who was organizing a few of the new Mardi Gras inspired lingerie sets at one of the large display tables.

  “Ooo chile, rough night?” She gave me a pitiful look which informed me that I looked every bit of how I felt.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” I shook my head on a path straight to the back room. A spot I didn’t anticipate leaving unless I was going home for the day. I whipped out my laptop and got to work.