Chapter 22
There are days when I wish I could call in sick so I can sit and stare at the ceiling or whatever normal people do when life is beating their ass.
Pretending that my heart isn’t in a vice grip and my chest isn’t aching has been a struggle.
When Meshay left me, my only concern was how it would affect our daughter.
But knowing that I may never get to see, love on, or spend time with Kyelle has anger knotting within me.
What makes it worse is the message I received from an unknown poster in my inbox on social media the day after things went downhill.
I don’t usually read or acknowledge the thousands of messages that hit my inbox, but this one stopped me in my tracks.
I’m saving the message to show stubborn ass Kyelle that I’m innocent and her ass owes me for trying to throw a monkey wrench in our relationship.
While Kyelle thinks we’re over, I’m not of that mindset and still moving like a man whose woman has him and his heart on lockdown.
Trying to give Kyelle a cool-down period has me in a steel weight of misery that I’m fighting to contain.
Every night, my bitch ass brain recalls the brokenness in Kyelle’s eyes, and every night I have to pray through the chest gripping ache I feel.
“Daddy!” Mica’s high-pitched voice cuts into my thoughts, shifting my focus to see her standing in front of me with her little hand on her waist.
The suggestion of annoyance hovering in Mica’s eyes lets me know that this isn’t the first time she’s tried to get my attention.
“What’s up, Cupcake?”
“I miss Ms. Kyelle. When is she coming back over?”
Lord, how am I gonna answer my baby without being in my damn feelings? Hell, I want to know the same damn thing.
“She’s—uh, she’ll be back over soon.”
Once I can show her that your ho ass mama’s vindication isn’t capable of stopping who we’ll become.
“When? It’s been forever,” Mica whines, dragging out the last syllable and causing me to shake my head from her dramatics.
“Is your homework done?” Changing the subject is necessary because I’ve learned my lesson on discussing adult situations with my baby who can’t comprehend any of it.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Looking at my watch, I note that it’s close enough to bedtime that I move Mica to that next step.
Thankfully, Jaleel took care of feeding Mica dinner before I got home, so overseeing bedtime should be easy. Tonight, I’m too on edge to go down the rabbit hole of twenty-one questions with Mica.
“Go and get your shower. When you’re ready, let me know, and I’ll come up to rea—”
“Can we skip the bedtime story tonight?”
I fight my reaction to the request to contain the frown that wants to form, because Mica hasn’t wanted me to read to her in days.
“If that’s what you want.”
“Mhm. Good night, Daddy.” Leaning in, Mica puckers her lips for a kiss, causing a small smile as I peck her lips twice.
“Good night, Cupcake. I love you.”
“Me too.” With that, Mica walks toward the spiral staircase, ascending without a backward glance, as my chest tightens and releases from the unconscious rejection I’m receiving from Mica.
Staring at Mica, I recall the conversation between us after the second day of her not seeing Kyelle.
“Is Ms. Kyelle coming over, Daddy? I miss her.”
My heart rate increases, and the vein in my neck pulses at the question because I didn’t think Mica would notice Kyelle’s absence so fast. Granted, Kyelle has spent a lot of time here and has been tag-teaming bedtime stories with me, but I didn’t think a couple of days would matter.
The stiffness in my back and neck, unrelated to practice or game play, is my reminder of Kyelle not being around.
But I’ve been trying to fake it until I make it in front of Mica and anyone else I encounter.
“Not tonight, Cupcake.” My voice is void of emotion despite the ripping in my chest at the acknowledgment.
“I hope I didn’t do anything to make her stay away.
I really like her. I love when she reads to me.
She does characters better than you do. She also rubs my head when the book ends and kisses my forehead.
Oh, and she says, ‘Alright, Mica, don’t let the bed bugs bite before leaving my room.
’ I miss that too. What if the bed bugs bite now that she isn’t here to tell me that? ”
Opening and closing my mouth, I scramble internally for the right words to tell my baby to make this situation better. While I’m innocent in what led to Kyelle attempting to end us, the effect on Mica is breaking my heart.
“Why are you staring at the stairs? Blink three times if I need to call them people to get you some help, Bro. How many hits did you take during practice?” Jaleel’s voice snaps me out of the brief memory between Mica and me.
“Shut up, bitch nigga.” Picking up my phone, I type a message to Kyelle without visually acknowledging Jaleel.
Me:
Goodnight, Ms. Ky. You better not be letting another nigga bite what’s mine.
“Aye, Bro. Real talk, I got a little situation I need you to help me work through.”
Setting my phone beside me, I look up to see the determination warring with something undefinable in Jaleel’s eyes that has me sitting up straighter.
“What’s on your mind?”
“So check it . . . I’ve been with this little shorty for a minute, and I’m really feeling her, but the pressure of being your little brother has little baby leery of how genuine I am.”
“Word? You ain’t shared with me any—”
“Stay focused, Bro. I’m sick to my stomach about my lady walking out on me just because of who you are. We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and my heart—damn, my bitch ass heart is telling me that she’s the one. Bu—”
“Whoa. What the hell are you saying right now?”
My eyes bulge and continuously blink while looking at Jaleel because as far as I know, he hasn’t been in a monogamous relationship in years.
“Fuck! Alright, you got me. But that shit was what you should be saying to me while you’re walking around with your shoulders hitting the ground. Talk to me, my nigga.” The smirk and light in Jaleel’s eyes make me throw the pillow next to me at him.
“Motha—”
“For real. Why hasn’t Kyelle been here? Between you and Little Bit, I’m ready to rent an Airbnb until shit gets better around here. Y’all are depressing as fuck.”
Moving on autopilot means I haven’t had a chance to tell Jaleel what’s been going on, and he isn’t on social media.
According to Jaleel, his patience with irrelevant people discussing me will have him crashing out, so he avoids it altogether.
Sighing heavily, I break down the shitstorm that’s been happening as Jaleel listens intently.
“So, let me get this straight. You let ho ass Meshay alter your world for a second time.”
“I ain’t let her do—”
“You did. How the fuck are you a professional athlete and haven’t learned the concept of stiff arming mothafuckas? Or better yet, why did your dumb ass stand there long enough to become a thirst trap headline? Boy, when Ma made you, she reserved her smart genes until having me.”
For a second, I let Jaleel have it because I’ve spent countless days kicking my own ass about walking into a clear setup.
Blaming Meshay is one thing, but the truth is, I shouldn’t have ever given her the space to engage with me at all.
Not to mention, her motivation had nothing to do with her curiosity regarding the child we share.
“I know, which is the only reason I didn’t attempt to force Ky—”
“It doesn’t seem like you had time to do anything but dodge the splinter from the wood smacking you in the face from her door.”
Kyelle’s downcast face and puffy eyes slam into my mind, pinching my chest at yet another reminder of her torment.
“Stop sulking. All you can do is let her calm down and then try to get her to listen to reason.”
“Too much time could backfire, and I could lose her forever. That woman is my wife, and this shit is fucking me up, bro.” Admitting my feelings in the face of Jaleel’s teasing can’t be helped or stopped, as my emotions become raw at the thought of never repairing what’s broken between Kyelle and me.
“I can see that, and I can respect it. But unlike Meshay, Kyelle isn’t with you for your status.
A woman with her own bag doesn’t need the material things you can supply her with.
Kyelle is a woman of substance who’s searching for the heart things a man can provide.
You’re gonna have to prove to her heart that it’s worth giving you another shot. ”
My mouth opens and closes twice at the words coming from my brother, who spends most of his time tormenting my six-year-old. I forget that Jaleel has not only grown up but matured, making his words hit me like a dagger.
“Damn. I hear you, Bro.”
“Do more than hear me. For the sake of you and Mica, you gotta get your woman back. Hell, if Little Bit has me playing another sappy ass love song on the way to school, I might snap. Get your shit together, my nigga.”
A low chuckle escapes my mouth when Jaleel walks off mumbling about the injustices of living with two moody people and the compensation he should be seeking as a result.
Feeling slightly lighter than before, I grab my phone and head to the steps to check on Mica.
Bedtime story or not, I need to make sure she doesn’t need a hug or something to make her feel better.
Taking the steps two at a time, I reach the second level in no time, making quick work of getting to Mica’s room.
Peeking inside, a smile forms upon seeing the blankets in disarray and Mica’s topsy-turvy body on the bed.
Entering the room, I adjust Mica and place the blanket over her body before placing a little kiss on her forehead.
“I love you, Cupcake, and I’m gonna fix this.”
With one final glance, I move to exit the room as my mind spins with various thoughts before settling on one. Entering my room less than five minutes later, I sit on the edge of my bed, lift my phone, and begin typing a message to Kyelle.
Me:
I deeply regret the actions that have caused you to believe that the love I’ve been expressing has been a lie.
I understand that my inaction hurt you and for that I’m genuinely sorry.
Hurting you even indirectly has ultimately given you a reason to doubt the protection I promised.
But I still stand ten toes down on loving you.
I stand ten toes down on not giving a fuck about that woman.
I stand ten toes down on you being it for me.
I just need you to choose me even when you have every reason to stay out of my life.
I promise you that nothing will ever shake our foundation again after this.
Help me show the haters that our love will always win, Ms. Ky.
Pouring out my heart in text is something I have never done, yet it’s the only thing I have at this moment. The ball is in Kyelle’s court, and I’m praying that God didn’t tease me with a glimpse of love spinning the block, only to snatch it away from me before I get to experience it fully.