13. Ashari
Nearly two weeks later…
“So, what’s been going on with you lately? I feel like we haven’t talked or anything in a while,” Mycah says while taking a healthy gulp of the mimosa she ordered.
Jordan is out of town for work, so she’s not here making this brunch between Mycah and me. It’s been a while since it's just been the two of us, and it feels nice to have some one-on-one time with my bestie.
“I’ve been dating a new guy, and it's been consuming me with the ups and downs that come with early relationships,” I say as a pang pierces my chest at the thought of Kayshon.
I miss Kayshon, but I haven’t been able to come to terms with his decision not to have children. I want babies one day, and being with him indefinitely means I’ll be forced to not have them. I’m unsure if I can willingly be with him, knowing what he’s planning to do, which is causing me some distress. It feels weird to miss a man I haven’t been with long enough to conform to my life, but I do.
“Oh. Who i—damn, toxic nigga incoming,” Mycah says before a familiar panty-soaking scent penetrates my nostrils as an arm wraps around my shoulders.
“Just this morning, I was asking God to give me a sign that you and I weren’t over. I’m happy to know th?—”
“The devil sneaks into God’s closet to steal prayers that God won’t answer,” Mycah says, cutting Marquan off.
I snicker because Mycah can’t stand Marquan and has told him on more than one occasion that the two of them will never be cordial. I haven’t seen or had any contact with Marquan since Kayshon and I have been involved, so his words are definitely outlandish.
“I don’t recall talking to your nosy ass,” Marquan says to Mycah, who shrugs while drinking her mimosa. “Why haven’t you called me, RiRi?”
“Man, God always puts me in the right place at the right time as it concerns my brothers,” I hear, causing me to look away from Marquan and see Jawaan smiling like he’s won the lottery.
“Aren’t you a cutie,” Mycah says to Jawaan.
“Cute is for four-legged bunnies, my baby. I promise you that it’s the last thing you’ll ever call me,” Jawaan says as the smile falls and something unreadable flashes in his orbs.
“Ooh, I’d love to?—”
“Trust me. I’m bad for your existence, my baby,” Jawaan says, cutting Mycah off.
A tingle runs down my spine at feeling Marquan’s index finger caressing my neck, causing me to meet his lust-filled eyes.
“What they have going on has no bearing on us. I gotta run, but meet me at our spot at nine.” With that, he leans down and kisses my forehead before walking off as my mind stalls momentarily.
“So, are you saying something, or am I?” Jawaan asks, glowering.
“Last I checked, I’m single,” I say.
Jawaan shakes his head as a low chuckle without humor leaves his mouth before he walks closer to the table and speaks lowly.
“One thing I’m coming to understand about my brothers is their inability to change their minds once they choose something or someone they want. Your tone-deaf ass ain’t been single since God put you in my brother’s path. However, I can’t wait to see your wedding pictures to confirm that about my brothers, God doesn’t play.”
“Are you sure you won’t let me perfect my bunny hop on your dick?” Mycah asks, causing me to break the intense eye contact between Jawaan and me to see the lust filling her orbs.
“I just can’t understand for the life of me what he sees in you. Yet every time you talk of leaving him, he gets so shook up, he doesn’t know what to do.” Jawaan starts singing, forcing me to return my gaze to him. He winks at me and walks away, humming.
“What the hell just happened?” I say lowly.
“Better yet, did that nigga just remix The O’Jays song while singing to you, bestie?” Mycah asks in wide-eyed wonderment, looking like she’s seconds away from following Jawaan.
“Yeah,” I say, unable to speak further.
“Damn. His ass is fine, and he can sing. I’m gonna need you to convince him to give me a chance.”
“Let it go, girl. I’m in a crisis,” I say, hanging my head.
“Uh, it seems like your only crisis is whether you want cream or white. Me and Jordan are the ones who are about to be in a crisis dealing with Amari’s aggy ass.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The maid of honor role Amari will think she automatically inherits for your wedding.”
“Girl, I ain’t getting married.”
“Humph, we’ll see, because my ex-rabbit just said your fate has already been sealed.”
*zzit, zzit*
My phone dancing on the table prevents me from responding to Mycah as I pick up and swallow at seeing Kayshon’s name on my screen. Unlocking my phone, I clench my thighs at seeing his message.
My Reformed Cat Catcher:
If you want to see me flashing across your TV in a breaking news report, have your ass somewhere other than your crib at nine.
“Why are you wearing that cheesy ass grin?” Mycah asks.
Turning my phone toward her so she could read Kayshon’s message, I waited for her to finish before pulling it back and locking it without responding to Kayshon. My pussy starts thumping, forcing me to pick up my glass and drain it of the contents while waving our server to the table to ask for a refill.
“Why do you have that man saved like that, girl?” Mycah asks, laughing.
My Reformed Cat Catcher:
All you gotta do is say the word and I’ll reward your obedience.
Rolling my eyes, I lock my phone and drop it beside me without responding to Kayshon because there’s nothing to say. He doesn’t know that being in my bed right now didn’t stop me from going to Marquan’s house before coming home.
Maybe not, but it did stop you from letting that nigga kiss, cuddle, massage, or fuck on you.
My conscience practically screams, causing me to grit my teeth as my attitude flares at the truth within the statement. Thanks to multiple glasses of mimosas, I was horny but not willing to call Kayshon. Trying to implement my self-imposed single status, I popped up on Marquan with thoughts of letting him get my mind off Kayshon. While Marquan had been giddy and grinning like a cat who ate the canary, my mind and body betrayed me. I didn’t make it past Marquan’s mounted TV on the wall by the door before I walked out, as Kayshon’s despondent face flashed in my mind with every step.
“I don’t even like his ass anymore,” I whisper.
Awe, that sounds good, but you’re lying through your teeth. That’s why Pusetta is purring now because she’s begging you to call that man to put the fire out.
“I hate you,” I tell my conscience, rolling my eyes while trying to shift my attention to Hawaii Five-O in hopes of falling asleep without giving into the temptation of calling Kayshon.
*bzz, bzz*
Jumping slightly to the sound of my phone vibrating an unknown time later, I slide the button to answer without fully registering the caller. “Hello.” Sleep clogs my voice as I hold the phone to my ear.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to survive this separation, so I really need you to put me out of my misery, Shari.” Kayshon’s voice sounds in my ear, causing me to blink slightly from being disoriented as I fight to wake up completely.
“How old are you, Kayshon?”
“I thought it was against protocol to ask a person’s age,” he says humorously.
My face contorts as a smile falls into place, and I adjust my slouching position to sit with my back against the headboard.
“Not for men.”
“Hm. The double standard is wild, but I’m thirty-two.”
“I’m thirty, so I’m trying to figure out why a man who has never had children can make a decision like yours without experiencing a blessing such as fatherhood.”
“Desperation can push us to valleys we can’t see an escape plan to get out of.”
“Un-riddle your words for me, Kayshon. I need to understand.”
Hearing a puff of air hit the receiver, I close my eyes to gather my thoughts as my pulse elevates. A heavy feeling surges through my body as Kayshon sighs before speaking again.
“The nigga whose sperm created my existence is also the nigga who killed my mother in front of me. His short-tempered ass had to have everything his way, including my mother’s will to bow to his bitch ass,” Kayshon says aggressively as my breath hitches and my chest pinches with intense pain.
The memory of Kayshon’s nightmare slams into my mind, making it extremely difficult for me to speak, breathe, or respond to his words. However, it doesn’t seem to matter because Kayshon continues talking, further tanking my ability to communicate.
“I was nine, and that nigga killed my mom in front of me and turned the gun on himself when the police showed up. I hate his ass, yet I don’t ever want to be like him. Having kids scares me so much I fuck while wearing two condoms just so I don’t ever have an unwanted pregnancy scare surface.” The noisy breathing and almost shouting tone coming from Kayshon make my blood pressure spike.
“C-C-Come over,” I say in a shaky voice as the need to see and be in Kayshon’s presence overtakes my mind and body.
“Nah. I don’t want you to pity me, Shari. I just need you to understand me and why I need to do this. I want forever with you, and I don’t ever want you crying after my temper can’t be contained with our child.”
“What about what I want? You say you want forever with me, but what if my forever with you includes having your babies?”
“Man,” Kayshon says lowly as if he’s no longer holding the phone because I’m barely able to hear him.
“I haven’t seen a shred of temper from you since we’ve started this thing. You’re also talking about temper control with your future children but not regarding the woman who bores them. So, what’s the difference between the two? How can you control yourself with the woman yet fear losing it with the children?”
“History has a way of repeating itself, and Lance didn’t start losing his shit until they added me to their mix. I had the displeasure of overhearing many arguments that ended with that nigga blaming me for not only beating Mom’s ass but also losing his temper.”
Time slows down at hearing the pain in Kayshon’s words as my mind processes the burden he’s carrying. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gather myself enough to tell him what’s echoing in my mind.
“Your father’s issues aren’t your burden to carry, adopt, or alter your life to correct, baby. If you want to do anything… prove to yourself that your love exceeds the limitations your father forced you to see and believe. I heard my godfather once say this, and I want you to let it settle within you: My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Second Corinthians twelve verse nine is your portion, Kayshon. In this area, you’re weak, but God is able to give you strength in every area that concerns you.”
Tears fall rapidly as I stop talking because I never saw myself regurgitating Papa Ren’s words to someone else. Yet, at this moment, I understand that Kayshon needs to hear them, which gives me some comfort in having the ability to share them.
“Let me find out your ass is an undercover preacher,” Kayshon says.
My limbs loosen as laughter shoots from my belly, and a low chuckle sounds from the receiver.
“Not hardly. God knows I ain’t done sinning and fornicating for that huge responsibility. However, my godfather is the pastor of Pursuing His Glory Ministries , so I at least know how to get a prayer through on your behalf.”
“Hold up. Pastor Reese is your godfather?”
“Mhm.”
“Wow. This shit is crazy. Are you sure you ain’t a preacher, Shari?” Kayshon’s shaky voice has me cracking up because he sounds like I told him the end of the world is tomorrow or something else major.
“No, crazy man.”
“Masani’s ass plays too much,” he says, grumbling as my brows hike.
“Uh. What does Masani have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, man. Aye, can I still come over?”
A wide smile upturns my lips because sleeping in his arms has my heart skipping beats after not being around him or anything else in the last two weeks.
“Mhm.”
“Good. I need to lay on your titties and shit so I can get some sleep. You’ve been taking me through it, Shari.”
“Me? You did this. I?—”
“Know good and damn well you went too far storming out of my crib, giving me your ass to kiss.”
“Whatever,” I say, smiling as the urge to pump my fist increases with the knowledge of being in his presence.
“I’m on my way, Shari.”
“See you soon.”
Kayshon disconnects the call, and for a minute, I lie still, my heart beating wildly and my pulse racing. A thought hits me instantly, changing my jovial feeling as a churn begins in my stomach. My limbs tingle as a cold sensation surges through my body at a quick rate.
“Okay, God. As Kayshon makes his way to me, I ask that you allow him to find peace in my presence and in my bed. I ask that You block every nightmare so that he can sleep easily. I also ask that You remove the scars and stains of his father’s actions. God, allow Kayshon to place his burdens at Your feet in whatever capacity that is comfortable for him. If Kayshon is the man You will for my life, allow Romans eight verse twenty-eight to come alive within the fabric of what we’re building. God, thank You in advance, because I know nothing is too big or hard for you. In Jesus name… Amen.”
Papa Ren would be so proud because teaching me how to pray was the first thing he taught me at a young age.