“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“Yeah, so I think you should do it, but ultimately, the decision is yours.”
“Yep…” I say with crossed arms. “Anyway, thanks for listening to my drama.”
“Girl, you ain’t got to thank me. It’s cool.” She stands, stretches, and says, “Anyway, let me get on up out of here. I’m tired, and I will definitely be sleeping in tomorrow.”
“I think I have no choice but to sleep in until I figure out what I’m going to do,” I tell her.
I especially don’t know what I’m going to do at this very moment. Do I want to help the man who put everything in life ahead of me? Or should I leave him hanging?
I hug Evie and walk with her to her car. I pull in a long breath of this fall air and enjoy the warmness of the sun against my face. It’s too beautiful of a day to be stuck inside. It’s the kind of day to go for a walk just because, or spend some time in the park. Or wash your car. I’ll definitely find something to do outside to keep myself distracted.
I end up settlingfor a short walk, kicking leaves, and thinking about all the good times I used to have with Brix. Admittedly, I’ve been trying my hardest not to go runningback to him because the good times were phenomenal, and the memories of the way he makes love to me has me in a chokehold. Whenever he was available for me, I was wholly his, and he made sure I knew it. Was I being selfish for wanting more of his time? How much time was too much time? I didn’t feel needy. I felt unimportant. When I’m with my husband, I want to feel like I’m the most important thing in the world to him.
I didn’t feel that.
Unlike him, I told my parents I moved out. It wasn’t right away. I allowed some time to pass, but eventually after about three weeks or so, I couldn’t hold it any longer. My mother shook her head in disappointment, giving me a whole spiel about how people didn’t know how to stay marriedthesedays. My dad sort of had my back. According to him, if the man ain’t handling his business, what use is there for a woman to stick around? But he also schooled me, too. Told me that two people were supposed to work together in marriage. It was supposed to be a give and take. A partnership. But how could that happen when the partner was gone all the time?
Anyway, I don’t think the separation hit me until after I dropped the news to them. I went home that night and cried until my pillow was soaked, and when that didn’t make me feel any better, raiding my snack cabinet did.
Now, I’m walking alone.
Kicking leaves.
Reminiscing.
But at least this alone time is to be expected. It definitely was not when I was married. When I had someone to share my life with. Being single and lonely is much better than being married and lonely.It’s a lose-lose situation if you think about it, but since I’m single, I have no expectations of anyone. It’s just me.
Yep.
Just me.
chapter four.
brix
“If I wereyou, I’d tell them and get it over with,” Zealand says right before he takes a swing. We’re at Christenbury Golf Range. I’m supposed to be blowing off some steam, but it’s become a therapy session with me spilling all my woes on a good friend of mine. He’s an editor for The Christenbury Times – the top magazine in the area. By the way he’s swinging that nine-iron, he’s going to need a chiropractor. His form is all off. It looks like a mix of dancing and a dry heave. But you can’t tell him he ain’t PGA ready.
“I mean, think about it,” he continues. “If it were me, I would let it rip, bruh. Why would younottell them?”
“Simple. I’m theirgoldenchild. Theironlychild. They’ve planned my life. They study everything I do, and everything has to be in line with the vision they have for me.”
“Yeah, but you’re a grown, rusty man now, bruh.”
“Rusty?”
He snickers. “You know what I mean, dawg. You’regrowngrown. I can see how their suggestions and whatnot have influenced you when you were in high school, even in college, but man, you’re thirty-five years old and you’re scared of your parents?”
“Wait–don’t get it twisted, my guy. I’m notscaredof them. I respect them. I don’t want to disappoint them.”
“I hate to be so blunt about it, but where was that energy with Cynnamon?”
His question is jarring to hear, but he’s always given it to me straight no matter what the circumstances were. I can’t do anything but reflect on what he’s asking me and produce an answer. The only thing is, I don’t have one. There’s no excuse for the way I shut Cynnamon out. She definitely deserves more.
I say, “I don’t have an answer for that. I failed Cynnamon. I’m painfully aware of that. Trust me.”
“Ay, I get it. That’s why I thought your best course of action was just to tell your parents.”
