Page 19

“Ma, why are you calling so early?”

“Early bird gets the worm.”

The masculine voice made Myla’s shut eyes pop open.

She sat erect as if sitting up would help her comprehend why a male voice was coming through her phone this time of the morning. Looking at the number, Myla’s blood began to boil.

“Why in the fuck are you calling me?” she asked angrily, unable to hide her annoyance and disgust.

It had been three years since she last heard this voice. Even though it had been a while since they last spoke, she recognized who was calling, especially since the number had never changed. She had joked that the number 555-6969 should’ve been a dead giveaway that he was on some freaky shit.

“It’s been a while since we spoke, and I just wanted to clear the air about some things.”

“I don’t need to hear anything you have to say, Terry. You were dead to me the moment I walked in and saw you being a middleman in an all-male threesome. I’m not mad that you’re gay. I’m mad that you lied about being straight. Not one time did you ever admit that you were homosexual, bisexual, shit, pansexual. Anything would’ve been better than walking in and finding you getting slutted out!”

Anger had Myla foaming at the mouth. She was disgusted. She respected gay men for living their truth and being themselves out loud. She despised a man who lived down low. It was something so untrustworthy about a person that hid their truths. In addition, the fact that Terry committed the acts in their home made her realize that respect was never part of their relationship.

Terry sighed. “Myla, I’m not bisexual, pansexual, or any other word you’ve created.”

Myla’s jaw hit the floor. Even after being caught, Terry still refused to admit that he liked men.

“Terry, don’t call me.”

“I am not gay!” Terry shouted. “I just participate in an alternative lifestyle sometimes. That’s why I’m calling you. I’m just trying to end this chapter properly before my book is closed.”

The phrase made Myla sit upright. She understood what Terry meant. Usually, she avoided conversations with men from her past. When she closed a chapter, it stayed closed. But curiosity had gotten the best of her. She couldn’t wait to hear what Terry had to say.

“What do you mean?” Myla asked. She already knew how this story would end. But a part of her wanted to know how it had begun.

“I risked my life and livelihood for pleasure. It didn’t matter if it was wrong in the eyes of some. It felt good to me, and that’s all that mattered. Now that I’m here, I can honestly say I wish I did some things differently. Did I enjoy myself while I was on the ride? Yes. Was it worth it? No. If you don’t mind me asking, what do you remember about that day?”

“I remember seeing my fiancé with a dick in his mouth and one in his ass,” Myla stated crudely.

Her goal was to be as rude as humanly possible. Though she could not see it, Terry flinched. He could never bring himself to voice those acts out loud. Even in the moment, he could not admit that he was opening himself up to have sex with men.

The denial of his own truth is why he never used condoms. Buying condoms, in his mind, was an admission that he’d be partaking in a homosexual encounter. He couldn’t admit those things until now. He planned to give Myla the truth that she couldn’t handle. Not to be malicious, but because she deserved to know.

“You’re right. I owe you the truth. My childhood was full of abuse in every way you could imagine. I was taught to lie, be selfish, and to use people for pleasure, then act like it didn’t happen. My father would do the most inhumane things to my sister and me. After a weekend from hell, he’d stand in a pulpit on Sunday and act as if he were Jesus Christ himself. My sister committed suicide when she was seventeen, but not before she killed him,” Myla was stunned.

She had heard hundreds of secrets like this in her career; this didn’t shock her. What shocked her was the fact that Terry had a sibling and a father. For years, Terry stated that he never knew his father and said that he was an only child.

“I did love you, Myla. I was just born into a fucked-up family. I think that’s what attracted me to you.”

Myla’s head snapped back. She was beyond confused by what came from Terry’s mouth.

“That’s why you were attracted to me?” she repeated, both offended and surprised by his choice of words.

“When I say that’s what attracted me to you, I mean I could sense that you came from a fucked-up family too.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?”

She was so confused. She had grown up in the lap of luxury. Not Windsor Wellington luxury, but high upper class nonetheless. She had no idea what struggle or turmoil looked like when she was growing up. She was privileged, and Terry knew that. She needed him to explain himself.

Terry anticipated this question. He knew Myla. He knew she would ask for clarification. She would not volunteer an answer. She dealt with facts, not assumptions. Myla wanted a valid answer, not one she’d created in her head to lessen the pain from the truth.

Terry sighed again because he knew the truth he was about to deliver would devastate her.

“Myla, when you come home, what did you see?”