by M. Robinson
He kissed all over my face. “Just please… try to understand. I don’t have a choice. This isn’t the right time.”
“Then when? When will be the right time? Huh?”
“That’s not fair Brooke and you know it. I have too much to lose.”
“And what about me? Am I not worth it? Aren’t you afraid to lose me?”
“I’m sorry… please… just do this, for me, for us. I promise it won’t be like this forever.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
He nodded. “I do. I will be with you every step of the way. I promise. We will do this together, I will make all the arrangements and handle everything, I promise.”
Tears fell loosely down my face. “But I love you…”
“I love you, too,” he expressed, wiping away my tears. “We will be okay and we have plenty of time for children. I promise you; one day we will have it all. Trust me; believe in me, as much as I believe in us. Can you do that? Give me a little more time?”
I looked down at the ground. “Yes,” I whispered.
There was nothing left for me to say. All I could do was believe him and trust that everything would turn out as he promised. I didn’t have another choice.
He made love to me all afternoon and well into the evening. He kissed my belly, told me how much he loved me.
The future.
He promised.
Ours.
He said.
Mine.
He repeated.
Yours.
He confessed.
With each caress, I felt his love again. The same connection I had felt since day one. When we were together, nothing else mattered. The world kept going and we stayed in place; side-by-side with just our whispers and sighs.
The next morning he told me he had scheduled everything and all I had to do was show up. He repeated that he would be with me every step of the way.
I didn’t come to realize that he was a liar, until it was too late.
And I never saw him again.
Jaxon wasn’t like my father. He never loved me.
I went through the procedure by myself. I learned that day that my father really loved his mistress. Loved his other family.
My father took care of his family; like any man in love would/will do. Jaxon made me kill mine.
I didn’t know which one was the cruelest awakening of it all.
Hate.
Was my meaning of the word love.
I opened my door and instantly embraced her.
“Kid, what an awesome surprise. Come in,” I said. She walked in, and we sat on the couch. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ll take a Diet Coke.”
“So what’s up, Kid? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks,” I said, handing her the drink.
“Not much,” Ysabelle replied.
I had known her for a little over two years now. I would be turning thirty-two soon and she was finally eighteen; although she didn’t know that I knew. She quit my bar a few weeks ago, saying she wanted to experience something different. I let her go, wanting her to get the chance to do whatever she desired. I would always look out for her. She meant that much to me.
She was still very much the little girl that was guarded behind a wall that I was never able to get over. She wouldn’t allow it. I didn’t know a damn thing about her past, but I recognized the look on her face often. She was running from something and I prayed that one day she’d find what she was looking for. She was a good kid. She deserved it. I wanted her happy, like I made sure my mother and sisters were.
“You look different,” I said, taking in her appearance. She looked more grown up for some reason. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but she looked like a woman, no longer the young woman that walked into my bar. I was like an outsider looking in again.
“I do?”
“Yeah, the clothes, your hair, and the makeup. You look great. Thought to give yourself a makeover, huh?” I chuckled, trying to relieve the worry from her beautiful face.
“Yeah… something like that. How are you? How’s the bar?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Same ole, same ole. Nothing is too different. I hired a new girl, she’s young and eager.”
“Didn’t take you too long?” she expressed with jealousy in her voice.
“You know how Miami is, there is always someone looking for a job. They come here thinking that they will become models.” She nodded in agreement and seemed less anxious and nervous.
When she scooted over on the couch and pulled me into a tight hug, I was utterly caught off guard. Ysabelle wasn’t an affectionate person. I hugged her with the same enthusiasm she was sharing, one hand on her lower back and the other on the back of her head.
“Are you okay, Kid?” I asked with the concern in my voice evident.
I felt like she was going through something big and she wanted to tell me, but for some reason couldn’t say the words. I had learned she was like that a lot of the time. I could read her fairly easy, but there were times like this, where I had no idea where she was coming from or what was going on. It scared me. I worried about her constantly.
I didn’t want her making bad choices or decisions. I wanted her to feel safe and secure. When she allowed me to hold her, I felt like she was allowing me to transmit some of those emotions onto her. She was letting me care and tend to her. It relieved me, because I knew she wouldn’t do that with anyone else.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, I don’t know, I guess I miss your ugly face, a little,” she joked.
“You just remember one thing. This ugly face is here anytime you need anything. I’m pretty good at fixing leaky pipes and stuff,” I reassured, hoping that she knew how serious I was being.
She laughed. “You are not. You suck at fixing leaky pipes. We dirtied every towel in this house; trying to sop up water. Remember? You forgot to shut the water off.”
“Nah, I did that on purpose. You busting your ass on the wet floor was worth the mess. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard.”
“Mmm hmm, and you called the plumber the next day on purpose too, right?”
“You’re still a brat; you do know that, don’t you? You’re crushing my ego here.”
“Thanks for being there when I needed you,” she said, getting serious again.
“Hey, you sure you’re okay? Something’s going on. Talk to me, Kid.”
I desperately wanted her to open up to me, but I knew the more I pushed her, the less I would get. She didn’t operate like that. She would tell me when she was ready.
I hoped.
“Nothing’s going on. I’m just very grateful that you were there and helped me out like you did. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Why? Because, I would have gotten into a lot of shit for hiring a minor?” I finally disclosed.
“What? You knew?” she asked shocked.
“I knew,” I admitted with a crooked smile.
I thought if I told her that I knew, then she would trust me and maybe open up. It never came though… not till years later.
“You’re a good guy, Devon. How the hell did you know?”
“I didn’t at first. After a few weeks of you living with me, I accidentally saw your driver’s license when I was grabbing money to pay for pizza.”
“You never said anything. I mean, Devon, I was a huge liability for you. You were harboring a minor in your home and workplace,” she reminded me.
“I like to live on the edge. Besides, you’re too pretty to push away. I got attached to you,” I simply stated, speaking the truth.
“Devon, you’re too good to be true. Do you know that?”
I laughed, “I’m a good listener too. You sure you don’t want to talk? I feel like you are doing something that maybe you’re struggling with.”
She suddenly stood, looking at the time on her cell phone. I stood with her. “I’ve got to go. I promised a f
riend a ride home from work,” she lied.
I hugged her tight. “Make good choices,” I whispered in her hair.
Something told me that her life was about to change. When she pulled away from me with a weak smile and patted my chest, I knew I was right.
She left my apartment that afternoon a new woman.
I wouldn’t come to understand until several years later…
VIP.
It wouldn’t just change her life.
It would change mine as well.
Six years went by like a breeze, I blinked and I was twenty-eight years old. I was a VIP, living the life most people only dreamed of; if they could come up with such a vision. I had everything I ever wanted and more. I lived life on the edge of my seat; always bordering on the brink of falling over, exactly how I wanted to. I had no causes for concerns or even complaints.
My parents never knew what I was up to. At that point in my life, I didn’t care if they found out. As the years went by, I became more involved in VIP and less with my family and friends. Christine and I hadn’t spoken in years, but I knew our families still remained close. I never spoke to Landon. To be honest, I hadn’t thought about him in years. Last I heard he was married with kids or something along those lines, but I didn’t care.
I wasn’t that girl anymore and I hadn’t been for as long as I could remember.
My life, my family, and my love were to VIP.
Only.
It was my beginning and ending.
It always had been. Six years ago, my life changed in more ways than one. I met my best friend and soul sister, Ysabelle Telle. She had come to VIP when she was eighteen years old; Madam had found her at a bar. I loved Bella instantly. We never shared our pasts with each other; we didn’t have to. We shared an instant connection and sisterhood that couldn’t be put into words. It was just a feeling.
Madam and Ysabelle had a unique and special relationship since day one. None of us understood it. Though trying to understand The Madam and everything she stood for and did, was like contemplating why the sky was blue and the grass green.
She did it because she could.
That’s what made her…
The Madam.
She owned this town and everything in it. I’d love to say that I was her second favorite. She often used me for new recruits, and showed me sides of the business that she never shared with anyone. I had been with her longer than any of the other girls at VIP. I knew the ins and outs of the business, and what was expected of me and everyone else included.
I was the fantasy.
I was the dream.
I was an illusion.
I was VIP.
I owned and governed my own life, without anyone telling me what I could and could not do. No one crossed me. I was loved and adored wherever I went. I heard countless “I love yous,” several “Marry mes,” and even more “You’re the ones,” than one person could ever possibly comprehend.
I didn’t care. I let them believe whatever they wanted and pretended to be what they wanted me to be. Except, once their time was up I was out. I didn’t think twice about leaving them naked, with their emotions pouring all over the silk sheets.
Love and I were not friends… we weren’t even on the same page. I treated the four-letter word like my favorite four letter word.
F-U-C-K.
That’s the best way to describe me.
I fucked them, like I loved them. And that’s exactly why they always came back for more.
I was the girl your parents warned you about.
The one they told you not to trust.
The one to stay away from.
The one that could break your heart, and go back for more.
Just because I could.
“You’re silly!” Christine said, laughing.
I had met her a few months ago, just shy of turning thirty-seven years old. She was a breath of fresh air, though she was a lot younger then I was. Nine years younger to be exact. She had a tumultuous relationship, as she called it, with her high school sweetheart Derrick.
I met her one night at my bar; she came in with some of her friends and her brother Landon and his wife, Aubrey, it was his birthday. They were a fun crowd. I spent a lot of the night talking to her, and we got to know each other on a different level. I never cared much to talk to women about my personal life, but something about Christine made it easy for me to share.
She made me laugh, a lot. Most of the time I couldn’t believe half the shit that came out of her mouth. She was random and so full of energy; I didn’t think I could keep up. I guess you could say she made me lighten up and maybe even kept me young.
If that made any sense at all.
I enjoyed her company that night. We exchanged phone numbers and before I knew it we were dating. I met her brother Landon a few other times; he was a nice guy. He and his wife had two young boys, with a girl on the way. They both seemed close, like I was with my sisters. I really liked that about her.
We had exclusively been together for the last month or so. Before that, we were talking/dating for at least four months. My sisters and mother approved of her immediately; they were ecstatic that I had finally settled down. And she seemed to fit in nicely with my family.
She was the first woman I had ever met that I didn’t feel the urge or need to protect. It was a nice change of pace for me. It was probably one of the reasons I was so attracted to her. Or it could have been the fact that I felt old. I had just turned thirty-seven and I was alone. I was tired of coming home to an empty house. I never thought the day would come where I felt lonely, but I did.
I didn’t want to die alone. To be completely honest, I didn’t know if it was Christine or if it could have been any woman at that point in my life. I just felt like I needed to settle down with someone that made me happy, and she did.
Even if the love I felt wasn’t consuming and devouring, or life-altering as I heard many of my friends and family members describe… maybe I just wasn’t made like that. I had seen too much and experienced more than any person should ever go through.
This was the best it could ever get for me. And I was alright with that.
“Devon, what are those dreams about?”
I swallowed, turning away from her and staring at the ocean in front of us. She nestled up closer to me, almost sensing that I needed it.
“Just dreams,” I replied.
“I’m aware of that part. What are they about? You seem terrified when they happen and sometimes it scares me. When you wake up, it’s almost like you’re still there. Wherever it is that you’re coming from.”
I took in her words, knowing exactly what she was talking about.
They were real.
I lived through them.
“I just want to help you. I want to help us… all three of us.”
I instantly turned to look at her. “What?” I questioned confused.
She smiled. “I know… we haven’t been together long, but I do love you. I have no idea how it happened, because we never have sex without a condom, but I’m pregnant, Devon. I went to the doctor a few days ago to confirm and I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you.” She extended her hands up in the air. “SURPRISE! You knocked me up!” she yelled, laughing.
Only she could make such a special moment a joke. I laughed. “I don’t… wow… what? I’m mean, are you sure? I’m yes… the doctor told you…” I mumbled, trying to gather my thoughts.
She chuckled, lifting up onto her knees and facing me. “Are you happy? I mean is this okay?”
“Yeah… it’s more than okay.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “I love you, too. I couldn’t be happier right now.” And it was the truth… in that moment, under the sunset, on the sand, with her in my arms, carrying my child. Our child. I loved her.
I kissed her and then reached down to touch her belly.
And in that second I loved my child, more than anything else in this world.
>
Several months later, Christine was glowing and gorgeous. We were having a boy and decided to name him Ethan Joshua Hill. We prepared for everything and anything under the sun, slowly awaiting the arrival of our baby boy.
My phone rang with Ysabelle’s face lighting the screen. “Look who decided to come out of hiding?” I answered.
“Oh… you know, a little of this, a little of that. I like to keep you on your toes, Mr. Hill. What are you and your bitchy girlfriend doing?”
“Right… about that…” I paused.
I knew this wasn’t going to go over well, but it was now or never.
“Yes?” she inquired.
“We sort of went to the court house and got married last weekend.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She yelled a little too loudly, that I needed to move the phone away from my ear.
“Wow, Kid, a congratulations would have probably been a better opener, don’t you think?”
“Why?” she questioned in an angry tone.
“I don’t know, Ysabelle, because we love each other. We are going to be a family in a few months. That’s pretty standard stuff.”
“Great. Just fucking great, Devon. Congrat-u-fucking-lations.” She hung up.
I stared at my phone for a few seconds before calling her back.
“Kid…” was all I said and she broke down crying.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I said and hung up.
I walked right in to Ysabelle’s apartment, and I could tell that she hadn’t moved from the couch for a few days. Her face appeared crazy and she had raccoon eyes from crying. I approached her like I would a wounded animal.
Cautious.
She patted the seat next to her and I smiled.
“What’s going on?” I questioned, sitting beside her.
“I don’t know, Devon… I’m so fucked up. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. I’m sad, depressed, and crying like a little bitch on my couch.” She laughed and cried at the same time.
“Kid…” I said, putting my arms around her. “Is it about that guy at the bar?”
A few months ago she had come to see me at my bar and this guy who I had never seen before, was hanging out with her. He looked head over her heels in love with her. I didn’t think I had ever seen anyone look so enthralled and consumed by someone else before. It had been endearing to watch, especially Ysabelle being at the receiving end of such emotion.
