9. Blair
Blair
Recommendation: Listen to ‘What Are We Gonna Do’ by Dru Hill
I jumped out of my sleep in a cold sweat, holding my chest and looking around my bedroom. The TV illuminated the room as I stared at the midnight news reporting on why dogs extend their owner’s lives.
My chest felt tight as the memories swarmed through my head. I pulled the blanket from my body and walked into the kitchen to grab me something to drink. I usually kept water near the bed, but after the nightmare I had, I needed to stretch my legs.
With my phone in my hand, I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a huge glass of water while leaning on the counter. My chest was still tight from thinking about my son, and how he entered the world.
I refused to ever acknowledge that I had given birth because that wasn’t a birth worth celebrating. That wasn’t the same birth that I had witnessed with my clients. If anything, it was medicated torture that I experienced, and I would never say that I had given birth.
My baby was snatched from me, and I never got the chance. A chance to have him in this world with me. He was gone before I made it to the hospital, and that was something I had to live with.
My phone chimed and I looked down at the screen and saw Quasim’s name.
Quasimmy: You sleep, Angel?
Me: No.
My phone’s screen illuminated with his name, and a call coming through. I slid my finger across the screen and put the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“Why you up, my love?”
I loved when he called me my love . “I had a nightmare, and it woke me up… I’m alright.”
“Don’t sound like you alright.”
“I’m not.” I couldn’t lie to him and pretend that I was fine when my hands were still shaking, and I didn’t know what to do.
“Stay up. I’m coming to you… I’m at Fern.”
I looked at the time on the microwave and then back at my phone. “Where’s your neighbor’s son?”
“His name is Elijah, and he’s at my crib with Havoc… I had to come handle something here.” He explained, and I could hear the engine of his car in the background.
I really didn’t want to be alone, so I didn’t fight him on coming over. There was no way I would be able to sleep peacefully. “Okay. Drive safe, please.”
“I got you.”
I ended the call and rushed into the bathroom to take a quick shower and freshen up. When I came through the door from work, I tossed my things down and put my favorite sweats on and knocked out.
I slathered Josie Maran sweet citrus body butter onto my body and spritzed my favorite perfume; strawberry letter by Phlur. I loved mixing the combination because I smelled like a sexy fruit salad.
I tossed on a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt before slicking my hair back and putting a pair of fuzzy house socks on while I waited. It was late and he was coming all the way over here, so I went into the freezer and grabbed some shrimp and ran them under the water while grabbing noodles and all the ingredients to make Cajan shrimp pasta from scratch.
Quasim knew the security code to get into the building and it made me feel safer knowing that he knew it. By the time I heard the knock at the door, I was already plating the food and had grabbed a bottle of my favorite wine from Aldi out of the fridge.
Soon as I opened the door, he stood there. Quasim had this presence about him that took up the entire room. He stood straight, regal, and strong as if nothing around him could touch him. His presence always commanded respect, with his broad shoulders and unyielding stance. The glow from the hallway lights caught the sharp edges of his face, showing me the look that was only reserved for me in his dark eyes.
The minute his eyes landed on mine, he extended his arms, and I stood on my toes, and roped my arms around his neck. Sim picked me up as he closed the door behind him, and I rested my head on his shoulder.
Tears burned my eyes as I held onto him tighter. He kissed my neck as he walked further into my apartment and held onto me. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong with you, baby?”
“I don’t want to.”
I didn’t want to tell him about losing my son because I was embarrassed. It was bad enough that he knew that Tyshawn was putting his hands on me, but to know he was the reason for our son being born stillborn, and I remained with him, was something I couldn’t deal with right now.
He would look at me like I was a fool.
Stupid.
Weak.
Those were all the things that I thought about myself whenever my baby came across my mind. How could I have stayed with a man that was hitting me while pregnant, and then shoved me down the stairs.
Instead of sitting me down, we remained in the middle of the living room while he held me, my legs wrapped around him. “Look at me.”
I pulled my head back, and he used one hand to wipe my face. “Sim, you’re going to judge me.”
His handsome face screwed up as he looked at me. “Have I ever judged you since the day I met you?”
“This is different, though.” I lowered my eyes and rested my head back onto his shoulder to avoid his eye contact. His ember-green eyes were my favorite thing about him. Gams shared the same color eyes as him. “I deserve the judgement, though.”
Quasim slapped my ass, and I lifted my head up. “Tell me or I’m gonna continue slapping that ass.”
“Did it at least jiggle?” I pouted.
He did it again and bit his lip. “Shit moving, baby.”
I smiled to myself because I was excited about gaining weight. At one point, I was so skinny that my collarbone started to bulge. “Do I have to tell you?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do… but I want you to tell me so I can fix it for you.”
“Quasimmy, you cannot fix this.”
“How do you know, though?”
I kissed his neck as he lowered me back down. “I made you something to eat.”
He followed me into the kitchen and sat at the counter. “That’s why that ass moving… who eats pasta at midnight, Anjo?”
“You, because I made it and I’m not wasting this food… you think I be cooking for everybody at this time. Consider yourself lucky.”
“Or that nigga.”
“Ah, don’t flatter yourself.” I smiled, as I moved to the side so he could wash his hands. “Do you want more cheese on top?”
“Nah.”
I found the bottle opener and handed it to him as he grabbed the wine. While I perfected the already plated food, he opened the wine and poured us both a glass, and we took place at the counter. I had a dining table, but the counter was my favorite place to eat.
Before taking a bite of food, he lowered his head and prayed. I sat silently while he said his prayers and then turned to look at him as he mixed the noodles and sauce around before spinning them around the fork and trying it.
He nodded his head as he chewed with his mouth closed and dug his fork back into the bowl to repeat the same steps. “You going to tell me, or keep me in suspense?”
“Depends on… you going to tell me what has you so messed up?”
“After you.”
“You already know this is good, so why you fronting? Got you cooking for me at midnight like a little housewife.”
The word wife hit me like a ton of bricks. Quasim didn’t know that I was married to Tyshawn, and I was scared to tell him. Capri and Zoya told me that I needed to just pull the bandage off the wound and tell him, however, fear continued to prevent that.
“I have a son…. Had a son.”
He didn’t react, he continued to eat while staring me in the eyes. “Alive?”
I shook my head. “No.”
My voice cracked, as he pushed the plate away from him and turned in the stool, pulling me up so I could sit on his lap. “Tell me.”
I took a deep breath and told him everything that happened with tears falling down my face, onto our hands, as I recapped the horrible events of that night. The tears wouldn’t stop as he squeezed me in his arms and listened to me.
Quasim never interrupted me or gave a face like he was judging me for my decisions. Even when I told him that I was discharged from the hospital and went right back to the apartment I shared with him. I pulled away and looked at him.
“Why haven’t you said anything?”
For the first time since I started telling him about my son, I really looked into his eyes, and I could see the anger, sadness and pain in his eyes. His silence was deadly, and it made me nervous. Not for myself, but for Tyshawn.
“I already knew that I wanted to do that nigga in… I’m going to do him worse than his fucking cousin.” He spoke, his voice so low that you could barely hear it.
I pulled his face in my direction. “He’s not worth it. I didn’t tell you this so you could do him in, Quasim… I just wanted you to know.”
“Hug me, Blair.” He demanded, and I put my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, his body hot to touch.
Quasim wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly as he kissed me on the neck. “I’m so sorry, my love… I wish things could have been different for us when it came to parenthood.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, I let out a loud wail, as I trembled in his arms. It was hard knowing that I never experienced something that I had wanted so bad. I’ve never wanted anything more than becoming a mother.
Every day, I was surrounded by amazing women bringing life into this world, and that wasn’t my reality. Cancer stole time from me, and now I was in limbo on what was next for me. Getting married and having children should have been what came next. It should have been what was next for me.
For us .
Quasim’s hand was under my shirt, as his hands ran up my bare back, rubbing it gently as I held onto him.
“I’m here, Anjo… not going anywhere.” He whispered, his body tense, which was expected after what I had told him.
I wanted him so bad.
My body craved this man’s touch, his gaze, and everything that came with him. He was so broken, and I wanted to fix him. For so long, he has had to be strong for everyone else, the barrier that protected his family’s legacy. There was no time for him to actually feel. Did he mourn the loss of his girlfriend and daughter?
Sure.
I also think he never truly mourned them. He just became numb to it. Figuring that if he turned his feelings and emotions off, he would be fine. I wanted to make him whole again, love him until he started to burst at the seam because the love was so good.
Quasim had gone so long without love – we both have. I wanted to show him that all wasn’t lost for us. We could gain everything that we had lost, find love within each other. Restore each other and have what we both so desperately wanted.
Love.
Commitment.
A life together.
“I want you, Quasimmy,” I whispered into his ear, and his body reacted to me.
This man…
The head of the Inferno Gods, as ruthless as they came, and my words caused him to react. If I never felt like that girl before, I damn sure felt like her in this moment, as his hands continued to rub my back in counterclockwise motions.
I leaned up, staring into his eyes, desperately wanting to know if he felt the same, or wanted the same. “I need you, Blair.” He whispered.
His throat bobbed as he took me in and kissed my lips. I lifted my arms, and he pulled my shirt over my head as I sat, straddling his lap, with my breasts exposed.
Goosebumps pricked my arms as we both kept eye contact, never breaking our connection. Quasim’s hands moved from my back to my arms, and then eventually to my breasts. It was how he took me in with his eyes low, like the flicker of a candle on its last breath.
The Inferno men naturally had low eyes. It was something they all inherited from their father. Their low eyes were dark, you could see the malice swirling in their irises. However, there was a softness that was only revealed for their wives and family.
Quasim took me in before his eyes met mine again, and he stood up while holding me. He carried me down the hall to my bedroom, and I clung onto him, wanting this.
Needing this.
I wanted to feel him inside me.
I needed him to feel what home felt like.
I kissed his neck softly as he lowered me onto the bed, and pulled my shorts off, exposing my pussy. He stood over the bed as I lay in the middle, naked as the day I was born. Quasim took me in with his eyes, as if he was taking mental pictures.
He grabbed my ankles, pulling me to the bottom of the bed, as he shook his vest off and leaned over the bed, covering my mouth with his, his hands caressing my inner thighs, going higher.
The more his fingers lingered on my thigh, my legs opened further and further. Only thing that could be heard was the sound of us kissing sloppily. He moved from my lips to my neck, and then he paused.
I looked down into his eyes as he kissed where my chemo port was, and then looked up at me again before continuing to kiss my body.
“I love you, Quasim,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
My heart slammed against my chest in suspense as I waited for him to react, or even speak. He peered up at me, his body frozen as if he had imagined what I nearly yelled out to him.
“Baby, please… I want to know that I’m not in this alone. Quasim, I have loved you, and I want to continue loving you. I didn’t lie when I told you that I wanted to give you babies and wear your last name.” I continued on, as he hovered over me.
He didn’t avoid eye contact, but nothing left his mouth. I couldn’t read his facial expression and that scared me.
“Anjo.”
I held his face in my hands. “Tell me that you feel the same way about me. Help me realize that I’m not crazy, and all of this isn’t one sided.” I stressed.
My chest was beating a million miles per hour as I waited, clinging on to hope, praying for him to tell me something. Give me an inkling that we were in this together, and we could be together.
“Fuck,” he cursed himself as he leaned up, leaving me leaned on my elbows completely naked.
“Why is it so hard for you to tell me how you feel? It’s clear you feel something for me, Quasim. You purchased me this fucking building but can’t tell me that you love me… or at least like me.”
He was staring at me, but it felt like he was staring through me, in another world. Quasim was standing in this room with me, but he wasn’t mentally here. His body was tense, and his breathing was labored like he was ten minutes from having a panic attack.
“Maybe you should go.” I climbed across the bed, grabbing my robe from the chair in the corner. “I deserve more than this… me pleading and begging to be loved is beneath me. I told myself I wouldn’t do it again.”
He grabbed his vest and turned to leave without saying another word. The tears pricked my eyes as I followed behind him, looking at the chair that we had just shared a moment in. “I told you that I need more ti?—”
“Time that I don’t have to give. I truly hope that you find who you’re looking for, because she’s not me. I cannot continue living on the little pieces of affection and attention you give me. I want more and I deserve more… night, Quasim.” I held the door open and he walked through, continuing toward the stairs, never looking back.
I closed the door and quickly looked through the peep hole to see if he would turn back around, and he never did.
I slid down the door and pulled my legs to my chest while sobbing about what could have been for us.
It hurt so much because I loved this man. I’ve loved a man before, and I had to move on from him, and Quasim was no different.
I needed to do what was best for me, even if it hurt.