7

“You’re intolerable.”

“Yet, here I am.”

And here you’ll be.

“Come back to bed.”

“Soon enough. Get some rest.”

With a sigh, she closed those pretty eyes of hers and left me alone to decompress. Back out on the balcony, I unlocked my cellular device and glared at the red letters on the screen.

The rate of my heartbeat changed. The air around me stilled. The weight of my body grew heavier.

4:0 a.m.

I tapped the screen, initiating the call. The hour of the day meant nothing. Four o’clock in the evening or four o’clock in the morning would render the same results without fail. A baritone etched in my brain struck the line.

“Malachi.”

“I’m happy it wasn’t an emergency. I called you five hours ago.”

“Brother, had it been an emergency, I wouldn’t be on your line. I’d be in your face. You find humor in insulting me, huh?”

“You should know me by now.”

“And you should know there is very little I don’t know about you and them other knuckleheads.”

Losing a parent was never easy, but losing a mother took pieces of you you simply couldn’t replace. The void my mother’s death scarred me with made its presence known each time I saw or heard from one of the men I shared her with at one point in time.

To make matters worse, the day I lost her was the day I lost so much of them. Our distance nibbled on my sanity for years. Nothing prepared me for the despair their combined absences filled me with.

I was grieving her casualty and our closeness at once. Til this day, neither had run their course. I struggled, in every way imaginable, with the consequences of my mother’s decision on a daily basis. Nothing in my world had been resolved surrounding the circumstances of her and Maurice’s deaths. Everything just lingered. Hurt a little less, but hurt, nonetheless.

I loved my sisters to my core, but those boys had my heart first. They always would. Their ages, occupations, and relationship statuses never mattered and would never make me love them any less.

“You crossed my mind.”

“I’m flattered,” I exaggerated.

“Fuck you.”

“Hey!” his wife protested in the background.

“Listen to your wife.”

“I meant that.” Malachi chuckled. “What’s on your mind?”

“Same shit, Malachi. Same shit.”

“The water. It’s returned.”

“Never left.”

“It’s your paranoia.”

“Was it ever paranoia?” Sighing, I ran a hand down my face. “Or preparation.”

“For what, Chem?”

“Shit, if I knew I wouldn’t be worried, yeah?”

Before speaking again, he released a long breath. “You’re fucking contagious.”

“Am I or do you just aspire to be like your big brother.”

“Fuck you, again.”

“It’s starting to feel like incest, Malachi. Anna is available. Why me?”

There was ruffling in the background before an angelic tone tickled my eardrums.

“Chemistry,” my sister-in-love sang.

It was four in the fucking morning and far too early for the sweetness in her voice but that was to be expected. She was as bland as she was blissful. She was as calm as she was chipper. She was as poised as she was pert.

“Hello, Anna.”

“I can feel your frown all these miles away. What’s bothering you?”

Silence toyed the line. God had been gracious to Malachi, blessing him with a woman like Anna. She was everything our mother once was, it seemed.

Her gentleness didn’t overshadow her grit. She was equal parts of them both, but it preceded the grime that Malachi buried within her. She’d been polished anew. Traces that she’d stumbled out of the same neighborhood as Malachi were erased.

Her hands were clean. Her heart was cleaner. My brother had designed a world for her that forbade her from lifting a finger or dirtying her manicured nails. She was put up. And well.

“Worry me.”

I felt the ends of my lips curl upward as I dipped my head. How they did that so effortlessly would forever haunt me.

Fucking girls, man. I scratched the top of my head and sat forward in my seat, ready to worry her as she’d asked.

Roulette. Rather. Anna. I could never forget Anna. I wasn’t sure if she was working for Malachi or simply gifted enough to pull things from me that were meant to remain hidden.

“Richie is dying.” I clicked my tongue with a shake of the head, still not believing it to be true.

“Oh, Chemistry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s life, Anna. You live and then you die.”

“Yes, bu–”

“There are hardly any buts. One day I’ll go. One day you’ll go.”

Quickly, she responded, “Yes, I know my time is coming. We all do.”

“So, no sympathy for a soldier, baby.”

She quieted, recalling words we spoke often as boys. It was our way of declining sympathy from strangers and those close to us for the deaths of our mother and Maurice. That shit was useless to us. It wouldn’t ease our pain or bring either of them back.

“There’s something else.”

“There is,” I confessed.

“I’m listening.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Chemistry.”

“I feel something is brewing.”

“Something good?”

“I wouldn’t have to worry you if it was something good, would I?”

“I guess not.”

“When was the last time you took a break? Stepped back and really let yourself live outside of your daily routine? When was the last time you bent the rules a little?”

I peered through the glass door, finding Eden had fallen asleep.

Today.

“I don’t know what that would help.”

“It might. I’m not saying tomorrow or next week. But, soon, leave it all behind and free yourself for a little while. Come to Berkeley or go somewhere tropical, surrounded by wat–”

“Water,” I finished with a nod.

“Yes. Water.”

I listened carefully, but I didn’t have a response. In fact, my attention had wavered and the topic of water left me craving.

“I must go now, Anna.”

“Of course,” she groaned. “Please take it into consideration at least.”

“I will.”

“We love you, Chemistry.”

“In this lifetime and the others.”

I ended the call and stared down at the black piece of matter. Anna’s words circulated until I stood and stretched my body.

On my way inside, I disabled the heating system. I pushed through my bedroom, eyes fixed on Eden. My exit obstructed my view, changing it to meet the needs of my desires. I didn’t stop moving until the chlorine from my pool raised my skin with fine bumps.

One lap after the other erased evidence that time existed. It wasn’t until my limbs grew too tired to continue and my skin threatened me with permanent wrinkling I climbed out of the water. Everything was better.

I rinsed under the shower just outside of the pool and dried my body before stepping into a fresh pair of briefs. I layered it with pants. The decrease in my body’s temperature was inevitable. Socks clung to my feet as I stalked the hallway toward my bedroom.

The sun shined from the large windows throughout, bringing light to the richly-colored decor of my home. I reached the master suite in minutes. The massiveness of my residence was easily mastered by the length of my legs. Paired with the fact I knew the layout so well, my pants were on the floor and I was climbing in bed behind Eden rather swiftly.

She repositioned, allowing her body to melt against mine. Her warmth elevated my temperature. With her ass brushing my dick, she searched me for the unknown.

When her fingers curled around my wrist and brought my hand forward, her intentions were made clearer. I tucked my hand underneath her, pulling her even closer. I buried my face in the ponytail that hung down her back, hopeful sleep wasn’t too far-fetched.

The idea of comfort with a stranger in my presence was absurd. It had always been. But, with Eden in my arms, there was a calm no storm could interrupt. Peace not even war could disrupt.

“Get some rest.” She sighed, deepening our connection.

Choc, I’m trying. The final thought stuck with me as I began to drift.

NOTE:If you are part of the woman-hater’s club, please refrain from moving forward. The Grey List is female-centered. The disdain, hate, or slander of women protecting their peace, sanity, careers, hearts, and feelings is not welcome here.

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