“Thanks for saying that.”
“I mean it, too. If you love him, do what you can to make it work.”
“I will.”
I stand up. She stands too and reaches for a hug.
“I love you, Cyn.”
“I love you, too, Faith, and you know what—I know you said you weren’t in the mood to go shopping, but I think we should go just to get out of this funk. That way, we can give Brix his space. I’m sure he’ll be back today.”
“He didn’t come home last night?”
“No. He’s upset—mostly at me, I think. He was hurt when I left, but he keeps so much inside I never know where his head is at, but it’s all coming out now.”
“Then you’re right. We gon’ need to get some retail therapy to get through this. Hand me my purse.”
I pick up her bag and say, “Oh my God. What do you have in this thing?”
She chuckles. “Everything! You never know what you gon’ need when you’re on the go.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want to throw your shoulder out of line either, Faith.”
She laughs. “Girl, been there, done that. I done had to get physical therapy and everything.”
She picks up that sack and slings it over her right shoulder. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Okay. Let me get my keys.”
chapter thirteen.
cyn
The sound ofthe door opening wakes me up from my sleep. After shopping with Faith, I came home, ate some leftovers, took a shower and crashed. I tried to stay up as long as I could, hoping Brix would come home, and it looks like he’s finally made it. Sitting up, I turn on the lamp and rub my eyes before looking across the room. Brix is standing by the door, pausing as if he doesn’t want to proceed.
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” he says.
Okay, so I take it he doesn’t want to proceed.
“I told you I needed to talk to you, Brix. That’s why I’m still here.”
“Then say what you need to say,” he says, finally entering the room, closing the door.
“Why are you saying it like that?” I ask, my heart ramming against my ribcage. His face is expressionless, but his words bite like they’re laced with venom. His eyes are determined. His stance is cold. This isn’t like Brix at all. I don’t know who this man is.
“Say what you need to say, Cyn, so we can get this over with, and you can get your stuff and head on back to your glamorous life.”
“Glamorous?”
His nostrils flare.
I say, “I’m not gathering my things in the middle of the night.” I get up from the bed and ask, “And why are you talking to me like that?”
He doesn’t respond – just stands there by the door, seething.
Since he won’t come closer to me, I walk over to him and stare up into his face, because his eyes elude mine. He can’t even make eye contact with me. He doesn’twantto make eye contact with me.
I say, “Okay, well, I’ll say what I need to say.” My lips tremble slightly as tears form in my eyes. I thought I was all cried out, but I was wrong. “You told your parents I hated you.”
