Chapter 16
Vanna’s legs were crossed at the ankle and swaying from side to side as she sat on her couch at seven thirty Monday night. Aden had finally called her about a half hour after Jamaica and Ronni had left. Jack and his crew left a little while after that, and after Granny had taken Frito for his evening walk, she’d gone to her room with a glass of Sprite and two of the mini cupcakes that were left over from the pool party.
“Hey,” he’d said when she answered on the fourth ring. From the moment Jamaica had planted the seeds of doubt, an internal battle inside her had been brewing. “Sorry, I’m just seeing your text. Cell service was spotty in Crystal City. Guess our meeting location was too close to some space the Pentagon had marked as restricted. I’m just getting on the road now and finally got some bars, so I hurried to call you back. Are you okay? What happened? Have you talked to Jovani?”
Again, Aden didn’t owe her an explanation as to why he hadn’t immediately responded to her text. They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, and they definitely weren’t husband and wife. Those were the only scenarios where she felt she had a right to explanations or commitments of any type. They were ... They were just lovers, and with that came zero strings.
Just as she acknowledged earlier, this was how she carried all her interactions with men post-separation. What she hadn’t wanted to accept was that deep down, she really did want it to be more with Aden. No, she hadn’t told him—or her girls—that, because protecting herself from hurt and scrutiny had become second nature. But for the third time—because she considered wanting and losing her mother in almost the same category—it was clear that she wasn’t meant to get what she wanted.
It was that train of thought that had been festering in her mind since her girls had left.
“It’s fine,” she said dryly. “And I’m fine.”
He did that thing where he grew silent, and this time it irked the hell out of her. Truthfully, it added to the mountain of things that were pissing her off. All the things that were beyond her control to stop and, therefore, she had to suffer through. “Is that all you called to say?” The question was terse, and while a small part of her said she was being unfair, the bigger part of her screamed Fuck him and everybody else who was causing drama in my life!
“No. I asked you some questions,” he replied. “Do you want to answer them over the phone or when I get there?”
“I didn’t invite you over,” she snapped.
“True,” was his simple response.
More silence.
“Can I come over to see if you’re all right, Savannah?”
No. Tell him no! Tell him to take his smoothies and workouts and go straight to his own home. And stay there. Forever. Or at least for the next fifteen years. Because try as she might, she couldn’t take this. She didn’t have one ounce of strength to power through this time.
She sighed, knowing that was the coward’s way out. And she wasn’t a coward. Never had been, and wasn’t about to let this man take her there.
“Yes,” she said.
“I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”
He disconnected the call before she could say another word.
So she’d put on sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks; left her bedroom, which, for whatever reason, still felt like the least invaded space in her house now; and plopped her behind on the couch to wait.
When the doorbell rang, her head jerked toward the plywood wall, and she sighed. For what felt like the billionth time in the last few hours, she considered just walking away from all this. Cutting her losses and moving the hell on. Aden had only been back in her life a couple weeks; surely she wouldn’t be heartbroken if he was no longer in it. Especially since it was causing her so much doubt. The fact that there’d been good with him in these weeks as well didn’t go unnoticed. It was just harder to hold on to that positive in the midst of this current storm.
Another fact that didn’t go unnoticed was that she didn’t want Granny disturbed any more than she had already been today. So she stood and went to answer the door. When she opened it, Aden gave her a tentative smile that she didn’t have the energy to return. She turned and walked back up the stairs and resumed her position on the couch.
She heard him closing and locking the door behind him—something he always did when he came over—then walk slowly up the stairs. When he entered the living room, he was loosening his tie. With one hand he slid the tie from around his neck and stuffed it into the back pocket of his slacks. He’d probably left his suit jacket in the car. He removed his sunglasses next, setting them on the TV stand as he passed it. Crossing the remaining space between them, he came to a stop a few cushions away from her on the sectional and adjusted his pants before taking a seat.
“What happened?” he asked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
He looked so cool, so debonair, and so damn smug that she wanted to toss one of the pillows on the chair at his handsome face. How dare he waltz back into her life only to destroy it! If that was what he’d come back to do. Hell, she didn’t know. She’d gone over everything that Jamaica had said numerous times. And there was still a part of her that just couldn’t believe any of it. The problem was, Vanna didn’t know if she could trust that part of herself. It had led her wrong before.
“Why did you come back to DC?” she asked, because beating around the bush wasn’t an option. She was sick of the volleying back and forth that had been going through her mind.
After staring at her for a few seconds, he gave a slow nod and replied, “My time at Thomas Karn was up. I missed my family. I was ready to come home.”
“Why did you come to the funeral? I mean, why did you make a point of coming to say something to me after it was all over?”
“Because once upon a time, we were friends,” he said. “I don’t like to see my friends hurt. I wanted to make sure you were all right then, just like I do now.”
“The answer is no!” she yelled back, not caring if she ruffled his ridiculous calm. There were so many emotions churning inside her that she didn’t know what to do with. “No, I’m not all right, Aden. And I haven’t been all right since I found out Caleb was dead.”
“Okay,” he said, clasping his fingers together in front of him. “That’s fair. How can I help?”
“See, that’s the thing,” she said, giving a nervous laugh. “You’ve been helping every step of the way. Getting me an attorney, coming by for wellness checks, taking me out for workouts, getting someone to fix my house. Every time something bad happens, you try to fix it. Like you’re my savior. Well, I don’t need a man to swoop in and save the day for me, Aden!”
“Okay,” he repeated. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is.” She leaned forward until she could plant her elbows on her knees the same way he was and glared at him. “Are you doing this? Are you framing me? If you are, just tell me. I’m not gonna whack you over the head, because I’ve had my share of jail to last a lifetime, and I promise I’ll hold Granny back if she comes at you, but I just need to know, Aden. ”
For a long moment he didn’t say a word. She was used to these silent stretches, which she presumed came along whenever she said something he didn’t like. From the way he was staring at her, she could tell he was thinking about what he wanted to say. Would it be a lie? She’d googled hero syndrome and found that it was a real thing. Not that she’d thought Aden could have a condition like this, but among other shows she watched, Criminal Minds was in her rotation, so she knew you couldn’t always tell who or what a person really was just by looking at them. Or sleeping with them, in this case.
“Are you serious right now?” he asked her finally.
“I’m dead serious, Aden. Because you know what? My life is on the line here. Those police officers found money bags from the casino in my basement. How did they get here? You said before that you’d been in touch with Caleb when you first came back to the city three years ago, but not with me. You reached out to him and you knew we were separated, but you never reached out to me. Is that what this is about? Are you still pissed because, as you said, you saw me first?”
He grinned then, but it wasn’t that sexy-as-hell grin he had whenever he was ready to laugh or joke about something with her. No, this was an incredulous look, and when he stood up slowly, she knew this was about to go badly. He slid his hands into the front pockets of his slacks and walked away, stopping when he got near the steps. Then he turned slowly and walked toward her again.
“I’m gonna address your questions because I don’t want there to be any more ambiguity between us,” he said, his voice tight. “But you make this the very last time you insult me like this, Savannah. The. Very. Last. Time.”
If she hadn’t realized how serious this situation was before now, it rang loud and clear through the tension, which seemed to be bouncing off his toned shoulders, the firm set of his mouth, and the furrow of his brow. She’d never seen Aden angry, and this was definitely angry Aden.
“You wanna know why I didn’t come to you when I came back to the city? Because I couldn’t trust myself with you just yet. I never stopped wanting you, never stopped hating the fact that you were with Caleb. So when I came back to the city and found out the two of you were separated, of course the first thing I wanted to do was come and shoot my shot. But then Caleb tells me he’s still in love with you, that he’s trying to get you back. That he’s gonna get you back. What was I supposed to do with that?
“I’m not a college kid anymore, and I’m definitely not about to get in the middle of a married couple’s squabbles. Not even for you. But when I found out he’d died and I saw you again ...” He stopped and shook his head. “I couldn’t stay away.
“As for whether I’m doing this to you—doing what, exactly? You think I put those money bags in your basement? You really think I’m framing you?” He laughed now, a sickly type of laugh that echoed throughout the room. “How dare you immediately think the worst of me when you allowed Caleb to gaslight and play you for over fifteen years!”
Immediately stung by those last words, Vanna stood, fists clenched at her sides. “Don’t you stand there and tell me about my relationship with Caleb. You don’t know a damn thing about what went on between us!”
Another wry chuckle erupted from his throat, and this time, Aden moved a hand from his pocket and ran it down the back of his head. “Are you serious right now? I mean, yeah, I guess you are.” He shrugged. “If anybody knows how he treated you, it’s me!” He slapped that same hand against his chest. “I was there, Savannah. You remember that? I was there.”
“No,” she shot back. “Not for fifteen years, you weren’t. You were off becoming a big-time financial adviser and forgetting those you called friends.” Forgetting about me. She wisely clamped her mouth shut before those words could tumble free. Never, not until this very moment, had she admitted that on some level, she had wanted Aden to be her savior back then. To save her from Caleb.
“I never forgot you,” he said, his tone only moderately softer now. “I never forgot you, Savannah. And I always knew exactly who Caleb was. You were the one who couldn’t see it. Who couldn’t accept what you so willingly walked into.”
She gasped, brought her fingers up to rub her temples, then dropped her arms again in exasperation. “What are you talking about?”
Aden went silent again. His gaze pinned her where she stood. “You really want to know?” he asked.
“Yes, dammit! Don’t you think I should know? At least now, amidst all that’s going on, don’t you think I should finally have some answers?”
“I always wanted you to have answers,” he said. “It just wasn’t my place to give them to you. And that was a choice you made, and I had no other recourse but to respect.”
He wasn’t wrong, at least not about that. She had chosen Caleb over him, had decided that Caleb would be her future, and she’d never looked back at Aden.
With a heavy sigh, Aden scrubbed his hands down his face. He walked back to the stairs again as if he couldn’t decide if he should leave or stay. But when he came back this time, it was to lean his back against the wall near the TV, only one hand going into his pocket this time. The other was in a fist at his side. He looked like he was posing for the cover of a magazine—the brooding businessman.
“He was a low-level drug dealer when we were in school,” he began. “Used to sell small bags of weed to the underclassmen at first, then the guys on the basketball and football teams. Once he became a brother, he supplied every party until he started messing up the money and got his ass kicked by his supplier. Me and a few other brothers, since we were supposed to act as his mentors, picked his ass up in an alley downtown one night after getting a call with him wheezing into the phone.”
He paused, looked toward the plywood wall, then back to her. “We sat at the ER with him that night, then took him back to the house. The next morning, we gave his ass a hard talk, told him to get it together or get out.”
“Kind of hypocritical if he was supplying your parties, don’t you think?” she countered with a smirk.
“Excellence,” he said. “That’s what we strive for. That’s what we represent. Excellence in all things. So no, it wasn’t really our thing to condone drug dealers—but hell, if you were gonna do it, then do that shit right. Caleb was a mess.”
His head fell back and he waited a beat. “I got closer to him than some of the other brothers. They were ready to kick him out after that first incident, but I saw something familiar in him, so I tried harder. Caleb was always trying to impress everybody, even himself. It was like he needed to prove a point, that he was somebody, that he was doing great things. And even when he was getting better grades and looking toward a future somewhere in the tech field, he didn’t believe in himself enough to see it through. It was like he was fighting against himself all the time. Do the right thing, but then you gotta turn around and do the wrong thing for counterbalance. He straddled that fence all the time, and nothing I said or did could sway him.
“Did you know his father used to beat him? I mean, from stitches in his head to broken bones. He was a cruel bastard, and Caleb took the brunt of his every mood swing. And his mother, hell, she wasn’t much better, talking to him like he was dirt. Hating him for what his no-good father refused to be.” Aden dropped his head, then slammed his fist into the wall behind him.
Vanna jumped.
“That’s why I didn’t want him with you,” he said when he brought his gaze back up to meet hers. “Yeah, I wanted you the first moment I saw you, but then he introduced you and said he was gonna make you his girl. I wanted to come to you so bad and tell you to stay away from him, but how was that gonna look? And for a while, I told myself, Maybe she’ll make him better. She’s smart and she’s pretty; she’s going to have a bright future, and maybe she’ll rub off on him. But I knew,” he said, bringing his fist up to rub the center of his chest this time. “I knew in here that things would only get worse. That Caleb would never change.”
Tears stung her eyes now, and she wanted desperately to keep them from falling, but it was too much. Everything he’d just told her, all that she’d lived through with Caleb—it all fit like finding the perfect puzzle pieces. Some things about his past she had known, but others—the selling-drugs part, the cruelty from his mother, because she’d never seen that, and Caleb always respected Gail—she just had no clue.
“I offered to pay for counseling for him,” Aden continued. “During our senior year. He didn’t have any health insurance, and the therapist was going to cost $125 per visit. I was going to use some of the leftover financial aid money I had to pay for him to go for a month or two, just to get some positivity poured into him. But he refused, said he wasn’t relying on no stranger to fix him, because he wasn’t broken. So many Black men take that same stance against any type of mental illness, or any trauma they need to work through.” He sighed. “I wanted Caleb to get better, Savannah. Not just for himself, but so that he could be better for you too. By then I knew you were in love with him, knew you would do everything you could to keep him happy. And by the time I graduated, I was so damn jealous of Caleb’s broken ass for having you in his corner.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she replied. “You’re giving me all this information now when it’s too late for me to do anything about it.” She interrupted him the moment she saw him open his mouth to speak: “And I get it. I know why you didn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything more than you did. But it doesn’t change what happened, and it doesn’t change what’s going on now.”
He pushed himself off the wall then, walked directly toward her, and stopped a couple steps away. She could smell his cologne, could see the muscle clench in his jaw as he stared at her. “I didn’t plant those bags in the basement. I’m not framing you.”
She blinked, and the first tear fell. Hurriedly, she swatted it away and swallowed.
“On some level, I guess I can understand your fear and unwillingness to trust again, because I knew Caleb, and so I can imagine what you endured all these years with him,” he said.
Another pesky tear fell, and this time, he reached out to thumb it away before she had the chance.
“But I’m not him, Savannah,” he said, quietly this time. “I never will be. And if you don’t see that, won’t see that, then there’s nothing else I can say.”
She dropped her head then, because she knew more tears were going to come, and she just didn’t want him to see them, didn’t want him to wipe them away, didn’t want to feel this weak and defeated. The same way she’d felt when Diane had left her at that bus station. And every time Caleb had let her down.
A few moments later, she heard him walking away. Then she heard the door open and close.
Then she dropped back down onto the sectional and cried.