Rhema placed her backpack on the rack next to my purse and rushed toward the bathroom. When she was out of my sight, I plopped onto the dining room chair and buried my face in the palms of my hands. Tears that I’d been holding in came pouring out. I wanted to scream, throw some shit, or do anything that would help me release years of pent-up trauma, stress, tension, and anger.
Suddenly, the front door opened. I quickly wiped my face with a balled-up piece of paper towel that had been left behind on the table. The heavy sounds of shoes beating against the wood floors got louder the closer he got. Seconds later, Shane hovered over me, huffing and puffing.
I sat there, taking my time to acknowledge his presence.
“Ember, why the fuck you ain’t answer none of my calls today?” he spat.
Typical.
Shane was a selfish nigga. He was the type who looked over the smallest details. If he looked at me closely, he would have noticed I was not okay and not in the mood for none of his shit.
“Please, Shane. Not right now.”
“Fuck that. You actin’ brand new ’cause you fuckin’ that old nigga at work, huh?” He stood firm, neck cocked to the side. “Ember, that’s who you givin’ my pussy to?”
“Shane, you’re fuckin’ sick. Get outta my face with your weird ass questions.”
This boy was losing more of his brain cells as the days rolled by.
“You ain’t denying it, so it must be true.”
“I’m not answering shit.” I proceeded to get up, and he aggressively pushed me back down on the chair.
If only looks could kill. “Shane, are you dumb? You gotta be. Don’t ever put your dusty ass hands on me again.”
“You ain’t getting up until you answer whatever the fuck I ask you.”
“Please stop.” I pursed my lips to stop myself from saying anything else. All I wanted was for him to get out of my face.
Exhaustion, frustration, and numbness were the only emotions I felt.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a switch. Shane’s posture loosened, his face softened, and his whole demeanor calmed. “Ember, forgive me, baby. I’m trippin’ because I miss you, girl. You ain’t gave a nigga no pussy in a minute.”
This lunatic muthafucka.
If nothing else did it, this moment proved that Shane had some type of mental issue only God and medication could fix.
I stood and gave him direct eye contact.
“Shane, just give me a minute, okay? I need to get dinner started, and we can talk later.”
“You mean we can fuck later?” His eyelids lowered as he licked his lips, leaving them wet.
Any other time, I would’ve been riding his face when he gave me one of those sexy, seductive looks, but it wasn’t doing shit for me at that moment.
“Just let me get done with this, and we’ll revisit this conversation.” I shot him a half smile, trying my best to hide my true feelings.
“Okay,” he said, surprising me.
SMACK!
He slapped my butt, then turned around and swaggered down the hall. I rolled my eyes and headed toward the sinkto wash my hands, then I went to the refrigerator to grab the ingredients I needed for dinner.
Just as I was getting ready to prep my turkey neck bones and potatoes, I remembered something. I had hidden forty dollars in a secret spot for a rainy day. A smile plastered on my face. I now had the money to purchase my daughter’s school supplies. I rushed toward the only walk-in closet in the apartment, the one I had turned into Rhema’s bedroom.
I hit the corner and halted.
The smile I had seconds ago was instantly wiped from my face. Shane had the closet door slightly cracked as he peeked inside, but the only thing I could focus on was his hard dick sticking straight out.
