17. Onesti
"You forfeiting your obligations after losing is wild, sweet baby. I didn't take you for a sore loser," Asaiah jokes, causing me to erupt in giggles.
I'm at Sipping Thangs Beverages after a grueling work day and craving coffee despite the late afternoon, when I shouldn't require the caffeine boost. Asaiah is heading here to meet me before returning to work and heading to an out-of-state conference with his boss and several other staff members. I'm sad about his impending departure but happy about being able to see him before he has to leave.
"I didn't forfeit. You just gave me more things to deal with when you thought hiding was a game I enjoy."
"Onesti."
Hearing my name makes me look to see a man I wish had forgotten my existence.
"Roy," I begrudgingly respond.
"Who the hell is Roy?" Asaiah grumbles.
Roy Copeland is the epitome of sex with his dark complexion, full beard that I've had the pleasure of saturating with my juices, and his over six feet muscular build. Even now, Roy's hooded eyes are peering intently into me with a look that has driven me bananas in the past, yet Roy is my past. The butterflies I felt before are long gone, and in their wake is a feeling of impending bubble guts. My mouth twists into a deep frown at Roy's audacity in speaking to me like we're cool.
"I saw you after I placed my order and wanted to?—"
"Lose his got damn life. Don't let my church attendance fool you, sweet baby. I'm a man who has zero problems getting active over the woman I love. Tell little bro to move around," Asaiah barks in my ear.
Hm. Should I tell him now or later how much his aggression turns me on?
No, let's see how gorilla he'll get over you. I don't believe he's about that life.
Can't you behave? My goodness.
"You look good, Onesti," Roy compliments, cutting off the internal debate between good and evil within me.
"Oh, I see you like show and tell. Bet," Asaiah concedes before three beeps sound in my ear, instantly increasing my heart rate.
Ooh, this is about to be so good , my evil angel says, rubbing her hands together while the good angel hangs her head.
A spark of apprehension floats through my mind when an image of an unconscious and battered Roy enters my mind. Subconsciously, I allow my eyes to rake over Roy, taking him in from head to toe before my gaze lands on his left ring finger. My lip curls, and my stomach sours upon seeing the evidence of our breakup.
"Why are you at my table after everything you did to disgrace me, Roy?"
"I made a mistake which caused me to fu?—"
"Fuck around and find out that while you don't value the blessings of our Savior, I definitely will," Asaiah cuts Roy off, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
My focus had been on Roy and not my surroundings, which caused me to miss Asaiah's approach.
"Hm. Not likely," Roy counters, sizing Asaiah up.
A humorless chuckle leaves Asaiah's mouth, causing a cold shiver to slide down my back as I wordlessly watch the exchange. From the glower on Asaiah's mouth and the hardness in his eyes, I don't think it's a good idea for me to interject. Therefore, I'm sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting to see how this is going to play out.
Dear God, why is my pussy purring and percolating under this table?
"How old are you, little bro?" Asaiah asks Roy tauntingly.
Being the devilish instigator that she is, my bad angel starts rapping a Master P song I haven't heard in years, and I fight hard not to laugh at her antics.
Bitch, he's been 'bout it, I mean Asaiah, 'bout it, 'bout it.
"What does my age have to do with this conversation?" Roy's forehead wrinkles, and a frown slides into place.
"I need sweet baby to understand the hashtag your family will add to their social media RIP posts about you. So again, what will your forever number be?" Asaiah asks in a deadpan timbre that leaves my mouth gaping.
Onesti, you've activated Asaiah's crazy. Please find a way to reel him in.
Oh no, honey. We love a man with a big dick and significant aggression to match. Go off, Asaiah, baby.
After seeing Asaiah's nostrils flaring and hands balling into fists, I mentally nod in agreement with the first statement.
Chile, that's the consequence of good, addictive pussy and affirmations. You gotta ease men into that, girl.
Not to mention, Asaiah hasn't been loved right before now, so he's trying to mark his territory.
Hold up, heffa. What happened to you being the Kumbaya peacemaker? Don't try to slide into darkness with me.
"I think you have misunderstood what this is between Onesti and me. I've al?—"
"I'll make you choke on twenty-five of your yellowing meat choppers if you finish that statement," Asaiah warns.
"Uh, gentleman, I hate to interrupt, but this isn't the place for all this testosterone," I interject before Roy can respond.
"About you, I'll rearrange this man's face and then fuck the memory of this moment from your mind, sweet baby. Again, tell little bro to move the fuck around," Asaiah repeats deadpan.
Maybe I should have consulted with the good angel before letting this man between my legs.
* * *
"I have been trying to stop myself from going and lying on the headstone, but grief propels me into a deep place of loneliness that being next to my Greta is all I can do," one of the survivors shares, causing my chest to tighten from the brokenness within his words.
This is my first time attending a meeting since Asaiah and I have been together because I've been using my spare time to build what we have. No matter how often I come or the time between my attendance, my heart goes out to the people who show up. I understand what the widower is saying because I had Jarielle riding with me to visit her grave for six months after my grandmother passed.
"One day, I had an unplanned sleepover at the cemetery. I had been drinking all day and anger had me getting in my car with a bottle of Wild Irish Rose. I'm unsure how I made it there without incident, but I did. For every drink I took, I shared the same amount with Greta while cussing her out for leaving me. Somewhere between pissing on her headstone and falling in the grass, I fell asleep. It's only by the grace of God that I didn't take my life that day or the one after it. What's worse than that is my plan on the drive to the cemetery was to do just that."
Audible weeping, gasps, and other verbal reactions surround the room when the last sentence leaves the man's mouth. A thick cloud of melancholy settles in the air when the man resumes his seat. Silence echoes like a megaphone when even the meeting leader struggles to speak.
Bzz. Bzz.
Vibrating from my phone pulls me from observing the man wiping the moisture from his face.
Asaiah:
Hey, my sweet baby. I'm out of my meeting. Can you talk?
My chest stretches, and lightness replaces the gloom I feel from the heavy atmosphere after reading Asaiah's text. Grabbing my purse and bag, I quietly vacate my seat to leave the meeting early for the first time ever. Heading to the elevator, I quickly push the button, climbing into the car when the doors open a minute later. Pushing the lobby button, I dial Asaiah's number when merriment dances in my body at hearing my man's voice.
"How are you, sweet baby? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?" Asaiah asks when the call connects after the first ring as if he's awaiting my call.
Asaiah has only been gone for a day, but I feel like it's been two months, which is crazy because I have never been this attached to a man. Roy and I were together for years, yet separation from him didn't feel like a death sentence like it does from Asaiah's absence.
"Like you wouldn't believe," I whine before the elevator jerks. "Oh crap, it's happening."
"What? Where are you?"
Before I can answer Asaiah, the elevator rattles, jerks, and stops, causing me to shake my head before pushing the emergency alarm and taking a seat.
"If you were here, I'd think this was a case of déjà vu. I was trying to leave my survivor's meeting, but the elevator's delaying my exit."
"You might need to start taking the stairs. That elevator ain't worth the space it occupies in that building."
Nodding, I pull the strap from my bag, placing it in front of me to see what kind of goodies I have today. A smile upturns my lips when I see the exact sandwich I shared with Asaiah the last time I was in this situation.
"Do you know how hard it was not to kiss you the day we were in here together?" I ask.
"Now that I find myself addicted to connecting our lips, I can imagine."
* * *
"I'm in love," I express like word vomit before cupping my mouth while holding my breath, anxious about the response coming.
"Well, the Lord is kind. Who is he?" Mom asks cheerfully.
"His name is Asaiah," I provide before sharing some information with my mom about the man who has given me multiple reasons to surrender my heart to him.
I have never fallen for a man this quickly, but I refuse to question it or analyze the timeframe in which it's happening.
"My question is, are you drawn to his circumstances or his heart? I know the kind of woman I raised you to be, but I want you to be sure."
"That's the thing… Asaiah's heart is a direct result of his circumstances. While I'm not attracted to his pain, I am attracted to his strength to push through it. I love Asaiah for the bruises his circumstances can't force him to showcase or glorify."
"Okay. Here's a piece of unsolicited advice. Be his confidante and light when life wears him out. Men shield themselves in public but can also be seconds from destruction in private. Ensure that he's strong enough for whatever battle he faces by providing him with comfort, peace, and a soft landing when all hell breaks loose. In turn, he'll do the same for you. Relationships are about give and take. We as women are more than sacrificial lambs to make sure that he matches what you bring to the table," Mom advises.
"How can I give him what he needs without losing me in the process of my ability to nurture?"
"Make sure you communicate the things you need from him in order to be whole and not depleted from providing his needs. If his love is real, he'll not only listen, but he'll adjust."
I understand that dating a man like Asaiah, who has a mountain on his shoulders, can be draining even for someone like me, whose given nature is to nurture. Therefore, calling my mom was imperative because she and Dad have long been married, so she understands what it means to be an effective partner. While Asaiah and I are in the early stages of building our relationship foundation, I can see us being together for the long haul. Taking my journey with Asaiah seriously, I'm going to do some research on drug addiction to familiarize myself with everything unknown to me. Aiding him in this process is key, because I no longer want to sit on the sidelines while Asaiah battles his parents’ demons alone.
“The last advice I’ll share is for you to allow God to be in the center of your relationship. Even when we allow our flesh to make us weak and follow the urgings of our bodies, we have to seek God. Therefore, if you haven’t already… pray and ask God which direction He would have you go in. Ask Him how you can be what your man needs. I don’t care what people say. No sin is so great that God won’t listen when you call upon Him. Seek His face, Onesti.”
Mom's words hit me like a dagger in the chest because I have definitely been shying away from praying after Asaiah and I became physical.
"I will. Thank you, Mom," I express after several minutes of silence between us.
"You're welcome. Your father and I would love to meet Asaiah when you're ready. Love you, kiddo."
"Okay. I love you too."
When the line goes silent, I bow my head and do as instructed, removing the distance between God and me in this situation.
"Hey, God, it's me," I start.