SAINT BAPTISTE 2: the soul ties series

Chapter 11

“How did that make you feel?”Asked Eboni, my therapist.

Yes, my therapist. I had a therapist. Mmhmm. I couldn’t believe it neither. Me, Naoki, in fucking therapy. And she was black too. One day, I woke up and realized I didn’t want to wake up anymore. That shit terrified me. Something had to change. The second that thought came to mind, I got on my phone and searched for a therapist. I couldn’t drown. I had to keep swimming. Had to keep trying.

I saw Eboni twice a week and I loved it. for the most part. Loved it right up until today. Usually, I’d walk in, spill and leave. Today, after the night I had last night, she cut me off and asked a question I didn’t know how to respond to. Not for real anyway. Not the way I wanted to respond. I wanted to leave therapy feeling... lighter. That was the purpose right? To leave feeling better? That’s what I needed. After... after last night, I needed to feel something other than the heaviness I felt. Needed to unload, breathe, and walk out feeling... lighter.

Last night was chaos.

Last night was supposed to be a good night. Chase—yes, Chase—invited me to this formal event called The Black Effect. It was Downtown at the Waterview Loft. Chase and I... we were only friends. Did you think for one second that a bitch like me, in my position was in any position to deal with a got damn man? He needed a date, and I needed something to do. it was just that simple. I was staying ‘open’ like Sienna said. Just... trying to enjoy life without worrying too much about ‘the ugly shit’.

Chase was okay. He wasn’t as corny as I thought. Wasn’t just an herbal tea drinking nigga next door. He was the neighbors herbal-tea-drinking-thirty-six-year-old-single grandson. He was an only child from Grand Rapids who owned several businesses in and out of Michigan. That was nice. He was nice. But I didn’t really care too much about what he had going on. Chase couldn’t do anything for or with me. He was just an entertaining distraction. Nothing more than that. We went out to brunch a few times, would speak in passing, and he still took my trash out but that was just about it. For me it was, at least.. I was just there for a good time and last night was supposed to be that.

But...things went wrong. Things went horribly wrong.

For the first time in a while, I got dressed and went out with the intentions to really enjoy myself. The minute he asked me if I would go with him, I was on the internet in search for a boutique. I lucked up and found a very sexy, but tasteful pleated satin, scarlet red mermaid style strapless dress with a side slit that stopped just above midthigh. It wasn’t the typical, boring, formal dress. It was full of character—much like me. Fun, spicy, classy, risqué, sexy. Everything. It really, truly, screamed KiKi.

I looked good’t, okay. Felt even better. My day started off perfect. Woke up bright and early, grabbed a quick kiss from the sun, despite it being cold as fuck. I danced around ass naked. Didn’t think about that magician. Didn’t think about those people. Didn’t sink. Just had fun. But then, we went to the event I’d been so excited about, and everything changed. I mean, instantly. As soon as I walked in, he walked on stage. Saint.

“What do you mean ‘how did it make me feel?’” I asked with a frown.

Eboni had patience. I fucked with Eboni. She was my home girl. She just sat and listened to me spill for an hour and didn’t judge. Didn’t give me that eye. I didn’t have to worry about her giving me that ‘look’. Didn’t have to worry about her running her mouth to Sienna. She didn’t know Sienna and even if she did, she wouldn’t tell her my business. Eboni had was ethics. Mmhmm.

I sat on her couch twice a week and told her all of my business. Just the easy stuff I didn’t give a fuck about people knowing at least. All of my lil’ ho stories. Talked about Denim. Saint. About how Sage had been driven me to block her. Told her about all of my Fun Girl Kiki days. I missed that bitch. Fun girl Kiki didn’t cry on couches. Fun girl Kiki didn’t have a therapist. Probably needed one. Definitely needed one.

She shrugged. “I mean... exactly what I asked. How did it make you feel? When he said those things? Did you believe him this time?”

I laughed. I laughed with tears in my eyes.

But I laughed. At least I had a smile on my face, right. I didn’t know how to answer her question. I didn’t want to answer any questions. I really only came here to vent.

“Naoki?”

I looked away from the window and back at her. “Hm?”

“Did you hear?—”

“You know I heard you,” I snapped before quickly swiping a tear from my eye.

“Are you going to?—”

“It made me feel like he wanted to fuck me. Like he wanted me to get on my knees and suck his dick the way I used to. Like he wanted me to beat it against my face and?—”

“Okay—”

“You asked. Let me finish,” I interrupted. With a sigh, I looked down into my lap and shook my head. “My bad, Eboni.”

“It’s okay.”

I placed my hands between my legs and writhed them. Since I couldn’t look at her, I put my eyes on the window again. God, I needed the sun this morning. I soaked her up yesterday but after last night, I needed more. Sometimes I thought about leaving. Thought about moving somewhere where it was hot year around. I needed the sun so bad these days. Some people hated winter because it got dark faster. I hated winter because the sun didn’t come out as much.

The sky was sad on most days.

Just like me.

“It made me feel like he wanted something from me,” I honestly told her, just above a whisper.

“How come? Do yo know?—”

“Because people didn’t say shit like that to me for no reason. He wanted something. He wanted to fuck me. That’s all. He miss my pussy. That’s all he’s ever missed.”

“Why do you think that? Didn’t you say he left? The night didn’t end with sex, did it?”

Eboni didn’t know shit about me. Not enough. I hadn’t shared the ugly shit. Didn’t come to therapy to talk about that shit. Just... I needed to vent. That was it. She wanted to get in my head. I knew what therapy was for. But I didn’t need it for that. I just needed somewhere to spill without judgment. That was it.

Why did I think he only told me the shit he told me last night because he wanted to fuck me? Because Saint didn’t talk like that. He said I was beautiful. Not on the surface type of beautiful. All over, and underneath, too. Called all of the pieces he stole from me beautiful. The things he saw behind my mask. Claimed it was beautiful. He wore the way he claimed to feel loud and proud. In a room full of people, he had the ability to make them all disappear. On stage... he stared at me, and everyone disappeared. Said he loved me. Again.

He... he didn’t love... because Saint couldn’t love me. because I couldn’t forget. I didn’t want to forget. He kept... kept asking me if he was too early. Even if all of the things he said were true, I’d never believe him because the reality of it was, he wasn’t too early. Saint was too late. Had we met when I was what? Seven... maybe then we would be safe. But when I was seven he was four. Both just babies. We never had a chance. Ever.

My phone chimed. I checked it. Not because I needed to, but because Eboni’s eyes were on me, and the sky without the sun only made me feel worst. It was a Facebook notification from Sage—an event invitation. I hadn’t spoken to her in damn near two months. Not since she texted, talking about one of the nurses said we looked alike. She didn’t care enough to check on me, but she took time out of her day to invite me to his fucking welcome home party? Mr. Bill’s. Why...? Why did she do shit like that? She wanted to fuck with me. I was convinced. Especially since she went as far as sending it to me through Facebook. Sage had only done that because she tried to text it to me, after two fucking months, and her message wouldn’t deliver.

I laughed. Laughed to hide the truth.

Smiled to hide pain, that rushed from my eyes and rolled down my face.

“What’s wrong?” Eboni inquired.

“Nothing,” I lied, with a sigh. “Aren’t we done? My hour was up five minutes ago.”

My leg bounced profusely.

I needed to run. Had been a minute since I felt the urge to run. Felt like I was going backward. I thought therapy was all about moving forward. Why in the fuck was I reverting? The past month and a half hadn’t been the greatest, but it had been a while since I felt like this. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all. Just... really wanted the conversation to be over.

“Can I offer you a bit of advice?”

My phone chimed again. This time, instead of checking it, I shut the power off and stuffed it into my purse. “Of course; that’s what I’m paying you for, right?” I joked.

Always a joke or a laugh to hide the pain. How Naokiesque of me.

Oh! I could do that again. Since that day on the sidewalk with Chase, I had access to a mask again. Just the funny one.

“No actually. You’re paying me to help you heal. Listen, while I do appreciate the money I take my job very seriously. Your mental health is my top priority. It’s been...” She paused and looked down at her iPad. “Almost two months since your consult and we have yet to make any progress.”

“That’s really not the way I see it. I come in every Tuesday. If you don’t think we’ve made any progress then maybe I should find another therapist,” I snapped. “The fuck?—”

“Therapy isn’t a place to come to vent, Naoki. You talk. I listen. I ask questions, you avoid them. You talk more and then, I look up and your hour is up. And then we do it all over again in two days. I understand how hard it is, trust me I do. But I’m your therapist, Naoki. But I feel as if you’ve been using me as a diary instead. This only works if you’re open with me and?—”

“And what? I haven’t been open, Eboni? I’ve been very open.”

She nodded. “I know. You’ve been open. You’ve shared. A lot. And I have a lot to say, too. But you won’t let me get a word in. I understand the need to release but this is a counteractive relationship. You don’t pay me almost two hundred dollars and hour just to listen to you vent. I’m here to help and?—”

“I don’t need help,” I defensively interrupted. “I need to talk. Why does it matter? You’re getting paid right.”

Eboni drew her lips into her mouth and sat back against her chair. “It’s okay to need help, Naoki.”

I laughed and shook my head. Snatching my purse up from the couch, I stood. “I think this is my last session. I’m sure it won’t be hard to find a therapist who won’t mind making two hundred an hour just to listen to me talk.”

Eboni nodded. “I’m sure it won’t be. But that’s all you will be doing for the rest of your life. Talking and wasting your money. Until you find your why, you will always find yourself back in that cycle you thought you got out of. Either that or you’ll do what you’re doing now for the rest of your life. Running in place. Stuck. Drowning. Sinking. Whatever you want to call it—it’s all the same.”

I looked down at her with a frown. “What?”

She stood up and walked over to me. “Or,” She grabbed my hands. I tried to pull away, but she held them tighter. “You can let me help you.”

I cringed. Hated that word. I didn’t need help. I was okay.

She shook her head and her eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite put a finger on. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t disgust. It was something else. It didn’t make me cringe. Didn’t make me want to put up a wall or curse her out. It gave me comfort.

“Come here,” she said before she pulled me into a warm embrace.

And then I realized what it was.

It was empathy. Eboni empathized with me. She didn’t give me sympathy. The difference was, she could relate. She felt my pain. She was me. She knew what it felt like. In her arms, I felt heard. I felt like she knew. Like she had sat on a couch before too. Like she had sank, ran, hid, drowned, and been in cycle after cycle too.

“It’s okay to need help, Naoki. Let me help you. That beautiful family inside of the big house with the white picket fence you talked about, you can have it. I don’t know who told you, you couldn’t but you can. I don’t know who told you, you weren’t good enough but Naoki you are. Okay?” She pulled away from the hug and locked eyes with me. “Will you let me help you?”

Eboni.

Oh. She was such a sweetheart. She cared so much. I believed she did. I felt it in every word she spoke. Reminded me of Sienna that day at the water. Reminded me of myself when I talked to Sage. The hope they had for me was much like the hope I had for her. Useless. I didn’t know what they saw in me to make them think I was deserving of anything. It was almost as if Eboni hadn’t heard any of the shit I told her. Did she hear me when I said I fucked Denim for years knowing he had a wife? Did she hear the part when I said I’d been cursed since I was ten? Hm? Did she not hear me when I said God always reminded me when I forgot?

It went without fail.

She said I was sinking. Said I was drowning. Said I’d find myself back in that cycle. But she was wrong. I was free. Because I changed. I thought I did. I stopped. Stopped fucking Denim. Stopped fucking Saint. Didn’t have sex with Chase. Stayed open... just existed. Settled and existed. I played it safe. I thought I was on the right path.

With eyes full of tears, I smiled and nodded. “You can try.”

“How about we start again today?” She paused and looked down at her watch. “I don’t have another client until?—”

“No thank you I?—”

“You mentioned a few things I’d at least like to touch on, Naoki. Is that okay with you? Just... ten minutes. Something I’d like for you to take home with you.”

I rubbed my lips together, looked off and shuffled my feet a bit. I was already on edge. Didn’t really want to revisit any of the shit we talked about. I didn’t need to anyway. I’d already said what I had to say. I just?—

“You don’t have to answer me. I just want to ask you a couple of questions to reflect on.”

I swallowed and waited.

“When you look in the mirror... Do you love the person looking back at you? I mean, truly? The same way you love Sienna? The same way you love your sister? Saint? Even the way you loved Denim? Do you love Naoki that way, too? Without conditions?”

She told me I didn’t need to answer. Told me she’d asked because she wanted me to reflect. But I didn’t need to reflect.

“No.”

I lefttherapy feeling different today..

Heavier than I was when I arrived.

The weight of the next session was heavy on my shoulders. I was supposed to see her in two days. Decided to call in and cancel. Still had to see her next week though. That terrified me. That… it weighed me down. And today… today I needed to be lighter. I had to be lighter. I was drowning and all Eboni did was push me further below. How was that helping me? How would talking, answering questions about feelings and shit helped me? Why couldn’t I just talk and why couldn’t she just be okay with listening? I didn’t… she would ask the hard questions and I didn’t want to answer them. Therapy was supposed to fucking help me.

After therapy, I found myself in bed... until Chase called and got me out of it. It wasn’t him that got me out of bed though. It was the mention of food. The smile in his voice made me cringe but... I got out of the bed, threw something on, and carried my ass next door anyway. He wanted to chill.

I did that now. Chilled with niggas in their grandparents’ house as a thirty-one-year-old-woman. Did whatever I needed to do to stay out of my own shit. Settled by chilling with this nigga because I knew I wouldn’t get back on that fucking merry-go-round if he was the only option I had.

Couldn’t talk. I was afraid that if I did open my mouth up to talk, that I would cry. I was miserable. Had been miserable since the gala. Nope, that was a lie. I was miserable then, too. Even as I danced naked, after my quick kiss from the sun. I wasn’t just miserable. I was lost. Even during my darkest days I had never felt as disconnected with myself sitting on the couch with him, staring down into a tray of mediocre ass chili cheese fries.

“You sure? You been quiet all evening,” Chase pressed with a mouth full of lettuce.

Again, I nodded. Kept my eyes fixed on the tray of food sitting in front of me. We were having ‘coney’. He ‘surprised’ me with it. I told him it was my guilty pleasure and... he surprised me with coney. From a couple of blocks over. The fries were skinny, and the chili was made with kidney beans. It wasn’t a coney island. It was a ‘family restaurant’. There was a server. They had fancy menus, and people actually sat down and ate there for dinner. They served steak, meatloaf, and fucking smothered porkchops too.

Oh.

Andthere wasn’t a bulletproof window separating the customer from the cashier. It was just... open. If he was like that, he could reach right over and snatch her and all of the money right the fuck up out of there. At the core, I was a hood bitch that liked coney from the hood. Not the shit that served us out here. When I walked inside of the restaurant, I needed to be greeted by Keke with the bad attitude, standing behind the bulletproof glass. Not blonde hair, blue eyed Amanda standing at a kiosk.

The food was ass. Disgusting. I didn’t want it. This wasn’t my guilty pleasure. This was a muthafuckin joke. But, I smiled and pushed the food around with my fork anyway. Didn’t spit it out. Didn’t tell him to get this shit the fuck up out of my face. Didn’t do any if the things I wanted to do because I was changing. I was trying something different. I was trying not to do what I always did.

When he caressed my arm I cringed. It had been two months since we became friends and I still cringed when he touched me. I didn’t even look for fireworks anymore. He couldn’t give me anything. No one could. That was why I could sit with Chase and do nothing because I was safe here. There was no risk because if he hadn’t given me fireworks yet, he never would. Fireworks didn’t take time.

Saint didn’t need time. He gave me fireworks on that rooftop. He gave me everything before he gave me anything at all. Before the rooftop. They were in any room we stood in together. He made me feel, then. Just… with those fucking eyes. They penetrated me. Deep. Soul deep. Made me feel in places not even that glorious dick of his could reach.

But. He was a magician, and Chase was… he was just a man.

For a while, I thought Saint was too. Thought he could go in the same category as them, but he couldn’t. He was truly in a category of his own.

“Chase,” I mumbled.

“Yeah beautiful?” He answered, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

I leaned forward and picked the remote up, to turn the TV off. “I—” I paused and looked down into the tray of food. “I like... cheese fries with chili.”

“Cheese fries with chili? Isn’t that the same?—”

“No,” I laughed, pursed my lips and shook my head, as I closed the tray. “Fuck no.”

He drew back. Either offended or caught off guard. I exhaled. My God, that shit felt good.

“This,” I gestured towards the food. “Is bullshit.”

I laughed harder. Laughed until tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

“Damn, straight up?” Chase somberly said. He grabbed the tray, slid it toward him, picked it up and roughly stuffed it inside of the bag. A brown paper bag bitch. A big one. with handles with the restaurant’s name on the side. Fancy. Too fancy.

“I didn’t ask you to bring me coney island, Chase. I would have never asked you to bring me coney.” I took a deep breath and tossed my head against the back of the couch. Placing my hands on my head, I dragged them back with a light sigh. “I apologize. I’m—that was rude. You don’t deserve that. The chili cheese fries just... really made me realize something. And for a while, I thought I didn’t like you because I was stuck in a cycle but... I do like you Chase. You’re a really sweet guy but... I don’t like you, like you.”

“Because I bought you the wrong type of fries? You said chili cheese fries. Had you said cheese fries with chili I would have?—”

I laughed. This time until my stomach hurt. I just... my God! What the fuck was wrong with me? I couldn’t do this shit. I couldn’t be that. Couldn’t pretend. This whole thing... me letting go and trying to heal... it had been about embracing my true self. I was, once again, wearing a mask. This one was pathetic. This one let a nigga she just met buy her chili cheese fries. And not the good kind neither. Where in the fuck were my standards? In the dirt. Mmmhmm, that’s exactly where they were. I just couldn’t believe it took chili fries for me to see just how far from myself I had veered. I had never felt so out of touch myself in my life.

“Yeah, you can go ahead and head out, baby girl,” Chase said, as if I really wanted to be there in the first place.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. I was being rude. He didn’t deserve rudeness. Chase had been the gentleman I knew he would be. This entire time.

“I am going to go,” I said with a pause before turning to face him. “I do apologize. I’m not really laughing at you I’m?—”

“Come on now, don’t pull that on me,” he interrupted with this boyish smirk that made me feel a tad bit worse.

I swiped a piece of hair from my face and lightly laughed. “Okay, I was laughing at you, but I wasn’t making fun of you. I was just... we’re so different. This,” I paused to gesture at myself. “isn’t me. I don’t do this. I don’t watch TV with men I just met over chili cheese fries from family restaurants. I think you’re a good guy, Chase I really do. What I’ve been doing to you... stringing you alone, it’s not fair. I don’t do that neither. I’m not a mean girl. I don’t take advantage of people for my own personal gain. And while it might not look like it, that’s what I’ve been doing. I told you I wanted to be friends, but I see you fall for me more every day and do nothing about it because,” I swallowed and decided, fuck it. I can be real with him, while finally being honest with myself. “I didn’t want to be alone. I needed someone to occupy my time with. And I—I don’t do that. I’m not that type of woman. I don’t want to become that type of woman. Not just that... I’ve been fucking miserable. And.. I can’t be miserable anymore.”