by C C Monroe
“I do love you, Trey, you’re my son, my only child, and I want to make this work.” The confinements of this elevator feel insanely small with the both of us, Gwen is looking at me intently, and I’m just ready to get home and have a fucking drink. I’m done discussing my feelings for the fucking day. Shit, the entire decade.
“Yeah, I know you do. Just give me time, okay?” I ask, turning my body to her. My hands are in my pockets and I dig for my keys, pulling them out when the ding of the elevator goes off and it opens to the parking garage.
“I’ll see you on Friday for lunch. Your pick,” she says.
“Yeah, sounds good, I’ll text you with whatever I decide.” I walk her to her car and notice she stops abruptly.
I go to keep walking but her soft voice stops me. “Can I give you a hug?” I look around the parking garage, debating what to do, my back still to her. Turning, I see the sadness on her face, guilt floods me.
“Yeah.” Walking back to her, I give her a quick embrace; just enough to satisfy her but not enough to convince her that everything between us is one hundred percent. Pulling away, I pat her shoulder.
“I’ll see you Friday.” She nods and I watch her get into her car before heading back to my truck.
Getting into my truck, I start the engine and turn down the radio, giving myself a minute to breathe. I lay my head back on the headrest and take a few deep breaths before putting my truck in reverse and leaving. Once I hit the freeway, I use Bluetooth and call Shayla. I haven’t heard from her all day. On the fifth ring, she finally answers.
“Hey.” Her voice is soft and feminine, making me feel all kinds of possessive. I’m the hard to her soft, the loud to her quiet, and the dark to her light.
“Baby?”
“Yeah, how did the session go?” I can hear the sound of utensils and music in the background, telling me she’s at home, cooking. My stomach is starving for her home-cooked meal.
“It was all right, nothing new really,” I reply.
“Oh.” The line goes quiet for a minute.
“Come on, Shay, talk to me. You’ve been ignoring me,” I plead for her to give me an inch. Slowing my truck down as I roll into some traffic, I look around and take in the sunset and all the other people around me rushing to get home. I see a couple around my age, laughing and holding hands in the car next to me and my chest tightens at the image. I’m jealous, I want to be with Shayla right now and she’s giving me nothing but the cold shoulder. What did I do? Does she hate my mother this much?
“I’m not ignoring you, I just don’t have much to say. I’ve been swamped with work, that’s all.” I know she’s lying; she’s not the best at hiding things from me.
“Can I come see you tonight?” I take a different exit, leaving traffic and deciding to take back roads so I can get home to her sooner.
“I don’t know, I’m just going to eat real quick then head to bed.”
Fuck, I can take a damn hint. She’s so far gone and it’s crushing me. Deciding now that this shit needs to stop, because I’m not letting her avoid me anymore.
“I’m coming over to see you.” It’s not a question it’s a fact.
“Trey, no. I want to sleep tonight.” She huffs and I hear her slam a cupboard shut.
“Bull-fucking-shit, you don’t want to see me because you’re mad about something. What! What did I do to make you so angry, that you don’t want to spend time with me?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired, Trey! I’ve been going through things, too!” she yells and I grip the wheel tighter, pushing my foot down a little harder, accelerating.
“Like what? I wouldn’t know because you don’t talk to me! We haven’t fucked in over a month; I haven’t seen you all week. When we’re together you’re quiet and all you want to do is sleep!” She’s driving me nuts. I seriously don’t know why the fuck she’s casting me out.
“Is that all it’s about for you? Sex?”
“That’s all you got out of that?” I shake my head and grit my teeth. “No, Shay, it’s not about sex, but when it comes to you, I want to have sex because I’m in love with you, and I want that fucking connection. I want to hold your hand while we walk down the street and laugh with you on a date in a restaurant. I want to dance with you in the kitchen while you cook for me. Fuck, I just want to be within touching distance of you!” I ramble off my rant, half of the things I’m saying sound cheesy as fuck, but I really don’t give a flying rats ass. I pull into my parking spot, while she says nothing. Not a damn thing. Just staying silent like she has for the past few weeks.
“Fuck it! Clearly you don’t want me around. I’ll just go out with Kingston, have a good night, sweetheart!” I end the call, pushing the end button on my touch screen with force; I’m surprised it doesn’t crack. Rubbing my hands over my mouth and contemplating what to do next. I call Kingston, I need to get out and get fucking wasted. I defended her back there, told my therapist she had good reason, so why am I the one getting treated like shit? I thought she could respect the fact that I wanted to make things right with Gwen, for my dad—for me.
“Yo.” Kingston’s muffled voice echoes through the Bluetooth, telling me he is shoving his face with some sort of food. Fucker is always eating.
“I need to go out tonight and fucking drink. You in?”
“Don’t have to ask me twice—yes! The boys are back! Where you at?” he asks. I hear ruffling in the background and then the sound of our apartment door shutting.
“I’m in the parking garage. Let’s get a cab. Hurry down and I’ll call.”
“Fuck yeah, on my way.”
Within twenty minutes we are in a downtown bar filled with loud music and city life. I’m already on my second beer; my first one chugged down in thirty seconds.
“Spill, what the fuck happened?” Kingston asks, eyeing me curiously while I tip my beer back and glance sideways at him, debating on if I should tell him.
“Your sister is acting so fucking weird. She won’t talk to me, dude, and when she does it’s ice cold.” He nods in understanding, pursing his lips.
“When did this start happening?” We’re interrupted by a bunch of hollering, turning our heads in the direction of the noise, we see a group of girls laughing and dancing together. I look back to him and continue with our conversation.
“Honestly, it started when Gwen came back in my life and every day it gets worse. I thought with us both working again that we would want to be spending as much time together as we could, but no, it seems to be totally fine with her.” My phone stops me when I feel it vibrate in my pocket. Reaching down, I grab it and unlock it when I see a message from Shayla.
Little Woman: Have fun out tonight, I like that you throw it in my face that you’re going to go out and party. Hopefully you don’t flirt too much.
I read the message over and over, and each time I do I become more angry.
Me: I said I was gonna go out, not party. I don’t plan on flirting with anyone. The one person I wanted to get into bed with tonight won’t give me the time of day, so…
I hate that we’re spewing so much venom at each other. This isn’t like us, but I have the urge to one up her, I’m fucking hurt.
Little Woman: If you really wanted that you wouldn’t go out and drink, you’re putting yourself in a situation where you could meet another woman and it could get out of hand.
Me: We may be fighting, but I would never cheat on you. Never would and don’t want to. I’m drinking with Kings so I can drown out the thought that my own fucking girl doesn’t want to touch me, let alone be around me. Don’t try and make me the bad guy here.
Turning the phone off, I slam it down on the bar top, done with the fucking conversation. I don’t want to say something I can’t take back.
“You all right there, cowboy?” he asks while lifting his hand to the bartender for another round.
“Yeah.” No.
“Listen, my sister’s been weird with us all, Lana and I were out last night and
she told me how worried she is about Shay. So I called Shay and she was quiet and distant with me, too. I don’t know what it is, but she’s going through some shit,” he says, turning his swinging chair in my direction.
“Well, I feel like she should tell me. Why does she feel the need to ignore me?” Not going to lie, this makes me feel even more disconnected. Why isn’t she telling me what’s going on? Better yet, how do we not know who we are anymore?
“You want some buff tattooed real talk?”
I smirk, staring at my beer bottle, wiping the condensation off the side. “Sure.”
“That’s your fucking woman, don’t let her push you away. You want her to open up to you and talk to you, then take it from me. I’ve been playing this game with Lana for months now and it takes fucking work. But one thing I never let her do is push me out completely. Sometimes, I have to sit her down and not let her leave until she tells me what’s going on, or sometimes I have to fuck her until she screams it out. Which, dude, I ain’t telling you to do that, but you get what I’m saying?” I nod. I wouldn’t mind doing that, but I’ll keep that to myself.
“At the end of the day, we may not be one hundred percent, but we at least fall asleep in the same bed together.” Squinting my eyes and giving him a sideways grin, I shake my head.
“I’ll be fucking damned, you are pretty fucking smart, Yoda.” He bows his head and puts his hand against his stomach.
“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week, everybody.” We laugh, clinging the neck of our beers.
Feeling nails scratch up my back, I stiffen and go to turn, ready to warn off the predator.
“You boys are pretty cute, me and my friends couldn’t help but notice you from across the bar.”
I look at Kingston and we share a humorous smile, these poor girls. I turn slightly to see a bleach blonde bimbo with fake tits and entirely too much perfume, the scent hits my nose and makes my eyes water from the burn. Her makeup is heavy, almost like she smashed her face into a birthday cake and called it even.
“Sorry to burst your bubbles, ladies, we’re taken,” Kings says as her brunette friend comes to stand next to him. She is definitely wasted, I can tell when she trips on her own feet and falls against Kings. He lifts her up and helps her steady herself, shaking his head.
“Really? Well, it’s your lucky night because I’m into men with girlfriends.” My brows lift and I look over to Kingston, giving him the did-she-really-just-say-that look. Nodding, he takes a sip of his beer, pulling out his ringing phone.
“That sucks, because I’m not into girls who act like hoes.” I shrug my shoulders, and this warrants me a slap to the face. I deserved it, but at least it got her to back off.
“I’m not a whore, asshole.” Grabbing her friend, she stomps away.
“Nice. That was Shayla, she said you’re not answering your calls, she wanted to make sure you didn’t drive here.” My mind goes to her in the apartment, pacing and worried about me. That’s the most attention she’s given me lately and that’s saying a lot.
“I told her you’ve been a good boy and turned down all the sluts.”
“Dude!” I punch his arm; he grabs it in pain and laughs.
“What, don’t you want her to be a little jealous, maybe then she’ll talk to you.” I give him an incredulous look. I’m not the kind to purposely make her jealous, I’m a man not a boy.
“What the fuck is going on with you and Lana anyways?” I lean over the bar and play with the coaster.
“We’re hooking up, a lot. A fucking lot.”
He concentrates on the wall, concentrating.
“Yeah, you think you guys will ever make it official?”
“We better. Things are complicated, dude. Joel did a number on her.”
Anytime his name is said, I think about all the times he laid his hands on her. He was a piece of shit, and if Kings didn’t find her the night he went to jail, she might not be here with us. I know Kings isn’t the kind to ever hit Lana, but I don’t blame her for being scared.
“That shit was rough, that whole thing was fucking insane.”
He nods, taking the last sip of his beer.
“I still wish I could go back to that night and fucking hurt him more than what I did. Break his damn legs.”
“Same.”
We talk and share more drinks for another hour until we both call it a night. Lying in bed, I close my eyes, feeling a little buzzed but not far gone enough. My mind drifts to Shayla and the last time I touched her body. I need to talk to her.
Reaching into the pocket of my jeans I’ve yet to remove, I pull out my phone and turn it on. I see the three missed calls she left me and see it’s just after midnight. Highlighting her name, it starts ringing. Just before I’m sure it’s going to go to voicemail, her worried, tired voice comes through the phone.
“Trey?”
“Hey, baby,” I whisper quietly, undoing my pants and reaching in to grab my dick.
“Did you get home okay?”
“Yeah, you were worried about me?” I start slowly stroking up my shaft, picturing her delicate hands.
“Yeah, I didn’t know if you drove or not.”
“I took a cab.”
“He told me.”
“What’re you wearing?”
“What?” she breathes into the phone, causing my dick to twitch.
“I miss you, baby, please let me come over.” I’m praying that she says yes to me. My hand squeezes up and down my shaft, and I picture her pink pussy covered by sexy white lace, while she lies there in bed just a few floors up from me. I start moaning into the phone, waiting for her to grant me approval so I can go to her and make everything right. Her breath coming through the phone adding to my desperate need.
“Did you take home one of those girls Kingston told me about?”
I instantly go limp in my hand. This escalated fucking quickly. Why the fuck is she acting jealous?
“What the fuck, Shay?” I tuck myself back in my jeans and close my eyes, using my free hand to pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m not in the fucking mood for this.
“He told me you were fighting off this bimbo with fake tits. Did you take her home?”
The jealousy in her voice makes me rethink my strategy. I can’t flip out on her.
“Baby, why would you think that? Why are you acting jealous right now?” I ask, exasperated, I’m starting to think there is more going on than the situation concerning Gwen. She wouldn’t be acting jealous because of something like that.
“Because you complained about us not having sex, isn’t that why you went out tonight? To find someone to give you what I can’t.”
“Honestly, I think you’re acting crazy. Where the hell is your mind? Damn it!” I yell into the phone. She’s going to make me lose my fucking sanity.
“Nothing, I’m sorry, I just need sleep. Can we talk later?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
Standing up, I throw my phone hard on the bed. This is fucking bullshit. I can’t believe we are in this place, as much as I swore I wouldn’t admit it or let it happen, I don’t know if we are going to make it through whatever we’re going through, which I’ve yet to figure out. That was some over the top, unbelievable shit that just transpired. Shayla Donovan knows me better than that. How could she question me?
I take a scalding hot shower, letting it burn my skin. Tomorrow, I need to fix us.
Shayla
I CRIED MYSELF TO SLEEP last night. I miss Trey more than anything; not having him here with me all the time is like living without air. I’ve been dragging myself through the work day, scared to tell him what’s been going on and why I’ve been avoiding him, knowing that I need to do it soon, because I might lose him if I don’t.
My current customer comes out of the fitting room in a gorgeous new dress. Plastering the best fake smile I can on my face, I give her a compliment.
“I like it. We’re expecting our first child so I’m going to surprise my
husband tonight! I want to look stunning!” She shrieks excitedly while holding her tiny stomach. I blink back the tears and swallow hard, feeling like I was sucker punched in the heart.
My appointment last month, for my checkup, was not a good one. I went in fearing the worst and got it. The doctor said the tumors are still there. We discussed further options, and when we started talking about pregnancy, he told me that I am in the third percentile of ever conceiving. A three percent window of ever conceiving, which he said is not high—no shit. I’ve been doing my best to avoid Trey, too consumed with guilt to even be around him after that.
“I think that’s the one, I’ll be right back.” Walking out of the fitting room as fast as I can, the air in the room is thick, suffocating me. I didn’t miss the weird look she gave me when I didn’t even say congratulations and bolted out of there as if the room were on fire.
“Hey, Shay.” Standing at the register, I look over to Lana.
“Hey.” I make myself busy with an inventory count. She stays right next to me, and I can feel her eyes blazing into the side of my face.
“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you much lately. You’ve been avoiding me.”
I shrug, ignoring her question.
“Shay?”
Bending over, I grab a binder from under the cash wrap. I’m yanked by my arm and turned to face her. Catching me off guard, I jump.
“Don’t ignore me, damn it, you’ve been ignoring me, your brother, and Trey, that’s not like you. What the hell is going on?”
Between the sudden intrusion and her hands on me, demanding me to tell her what my deal is, I don’t even try to hold back. I let it all out. Blurting out abruptly, “I can’t get pregnant!” I know it’s not a definite no that I can’t but it’s close enough to impossible. You could hear a pen drop, it’s a looming eerie silence. Lana goes to say something but is interrupted by my customer walking up to the register. I know she heard what I said; she looks like she’s seen a ghost, her eyes wide and lips pinched tight as if she is refraining from saying something.
