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Lance
Coming backto an empty house fucked me up.
Going into the weekend, it was easy for me to distract myself with the preparation and travel related to Sunday’s away game. And since Yani and I typically didn’t talk much right before I played because she wanted me to focus, it was also easy for me to pretend like she and I were good and that her packing her shit to leave hadn’t even really happened. But when I got back to the crib late Sunday night after a massive win on the road that had officially secured our spot in the playoffs and didn’t have her there waiting up to celebrate with me, I realized there was no more running from the truth.
She was really gone.
Well…technically,she wasn’t leaving the city until the end of the week. But as far as her home here with me was concerned, that shit was over and done with, evidenced by the way she’d completely removed her presence from just about every room.
Her “quick run” shoes were no longer lined up near the entryway.
The laptop she used for her business wasn’t sitting on the living room table like usual.
Even the spoon she often left in the kitchen sink after her random, late night craving for just one bite of Blue Bell ice cream was clean and tucked away in the drawer, little shit like that making her absence hit harder since not only had that been one of our favorite treats to eat together growing up, but I could also distinctly remember the day she’d brought home a tub of the regional staple and how happy she was to be back in Texas because of it.
When she first got here, that shit hardly seemed possible.
Of course, part of that was because of the ridiculous situation that had forced her to return to town. And then there was all the weird shit with Mrs. Hayes II that had her fucked up on the regular, not to mention her estranged relationship with her mother. But once Yani found her footing, it was a beautiful thing to witness the way her attitude towards being back home had transformed over the past few months; especially since I knew our rekindled friendship turned relationship had something to do with it.
Oregon still had a piece of her heart though.
From the first time I’d brought her over to my crib, it was clear in the way she spoke about the place she’d called home for the past eight years that it meant a lot to her. And since she hadn’t even been thinking about leaving when she had to, I could also understand why she’d taken an opportunity like this that would allow her to get back out there. But being able to make sense of that part of it still didn’t make me feel any better about how she’d gone about handling this whole thing, the similarities between this and our issue of the past leaving a bad taste in my mouth that made it a lot more difficult for me to just get over the shit even though I kind of wanted to.
I mean, this was Yani’s last week in town, so we should’ve been making the most of it. But instead, she was spending it at her dad’s house and I was spending it alone, putting me in a bad mood that carried into everything I had going on over the next few days.
On Monday, it was my teammates who immediately sensed my attitude when I got to the facility and just decided not to fuck with me. And on Tuesday, it was my chef who somehow knew not to ask any questions after I told him he’d only be cooking for me this week.
Wednesday, it was my parents who didn’t argue with me after I’d annoyedly summarized the entire situation to explain why Briyana wasn’t joining us for the holiday. And on Thursday, it was Ahmad who took one look at me after he’d whooped my ass in Madden and disappointedly said, “Only a woman could put a man so deep in his feelings that he don’t even care about getting smacked on the sticks.”
“What are you talkin’ about, bruh?” I asked, doing a horrible job at playing off the fact that he wasn’t wrong when I argued, “You just had a good game.”
“Ialwayshave a good game. But it ain’t my performance we’re talking about,” he insisted, giving evidence to prove just how off I’d been when he said, “You were so distracted that you punted on Third Down…twice.”
“It’s been a long week,” I responded with a shrug that had Ahmad leaning in to ask, “Because of the thick sneakerhead, right?”
“Aye man,” I groaned with a frown and a push to his arm as Ahmad laughed while defending, “How was I supposed to remember her name? I only met her once.”
“You still need to show Briyana some respect,” I told him. “That’s a grown ass woman you’re talkin’ about.”
“You actin’ like I called her the b-word or somethin’,” he defended with a frown. “Thick sneakerhead was honestly a compliment.”
Since it was clear he wasn’t getting the point, I just shook my head as he asked, “So what happened with y’all two? Let me guess. She left you for one of your teammates?”
“What? Nah, man. It wasn’t nothin’ like that,” I answered, only for Ahmad to press, “So what’s the problem then?”
I knew this shit was probably the furthest thing from his business. But in a lot of ways, Ahmad was wise beyond his years, making me interested to hear what he’d have to say on the matter as I gave him a quick summary similar to what I’d given my parents on Christmas.
The entire time, he was casually nodding along. But once I finished, he very seriously asked, “Bro, can I be like… completely honest with you right now?”
“Go ahead,” I told him, not at all expecting him to say, “You bein’ hella immature about this.”
“What?”
Holding his hands up, he requested, “Just hear me out.” And since I’d invited his opinion, I tried my best to stay open minded when he asked, “Wasn’t you the one who just told me she’s a grown ass woman?”
I nodded.
“And grown ass women make decisions for themselves,by themselves, all the time, right?”
