Chapter 16 Ace
Ace
Well, that went about as well as could be expected.
Raya’s in the shower right now, and I’m headed down to the basement to snoop through her shit again. But something’s been nagging at me ever since we left my parents’ house.
It was too easy.
The normal way to look at things would be to be thankful that Raya made an effort and that she did it without taking us all to hell. It would be seen as progress.
But my wife isn’t normal.
Neither is our marriage.
So I go to do my research.
But first, I do a few reps on my bench, just to clear my head. I just feel…uneasy. I’ve been feeling that way since the other night when Raya filmed herself giving me a blow job. At the time, that shit was sexy as fuck, and with any other woman, I would have felt like I won. But not with Raya.
With her, I feel like she won, and then I wonder what she’s gonna do with the footage.
It’s like…I wanna trust her, and I know I should trust her, but given our history, I can’t. And I hate that.
I’m finishing my third set when my phone buzzes.
Bron
Tiff wants Raya’s phone number
Why?
Nigga idk. I guess they talked at the party
I can’t help but smile at that.
Aight I’ll ask
Ten seconds later, my phone rings.
“What?”
“Are we at that stage?” Bron teases. “Are we whipped now? We gotta check with the old ball and chain before we move?”
“Fuck you,” I say, laughing. “Nah, I ain’t just gon’ hand over my wife’s number to a rando without making sure she’s good with it.”
“Tiff ain’t no rando.”
“Yeah, let’s circle back to that in ‘bout a month, nigga.”
“Whatever. She’s cool. I like her, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It’s early. You know how that goes. You used to, anyway.”
“Whatever. What you want?”
“Just checkin’ on you. I can’t check on you?”
I lean back on the bench. “I’m good.”
“Titus said you got some shit goin’ on at work.”
My eyes instantly drift to the stairs, but I’m still alone.
“Yeah, the project manager from the closeout team. She be on my ass, man. Nitpicking and shit. It feels personal.”
“Did you do something to piss her off?”
“Nah. I don’t know what the fuck she be on. I ain’t felt this stressed in a minute.”
“Hang in there, bruh. You got it.”
“Yeah…” I trail off, feeling unsatisfied.
This is where I’d talk to Raya—if I felt comfortable talking to Raya about this, which I don’t.
Talking to my boys is cool, but men don’t really let you vent like you want to.
The suck it up mentality is ingrained too deep in us for any meaningful reassurance.
I’m sure Raya would give me that, but I can’t risk it.
After we hang up, I hear Raya walking around, so I put her grievance books on the backburner for tonight. Can’t have her catching me.
I venture back to the bedroom and watch her put on lotion while I undress for the shower.
“Bron just called me,” I announce. “You know his friend, Tiffany?”
“Mm hm.”
“She wants your phone number.”
Her hand stops mid-rub. I can practically see her processing it in her head, turning the idea over and over like clothes in a dryer.
“It’s okay to let people in,” I tell her. “Yall don’t have to be best friends, but maybe you could hang out sometime.”
She commences with her lotion. I wait, watching her, wanting to touch her myself, but I know she needs a minute.
“When you say hang out…”
“Just to get a drink. Like you do with Tori. It could be good for you.”
That seems to penetrate. She sighs quietly, then gives me one of those forced smiles. “Okay. You can give her my number. If you think it’ll be good for me.”
Well, I’m not making promises. I hope it works out, but if it doesn’t, I don’t wanna be responsible for the fallout.
She wipes her hands on her robe, then grabs her laptop. “My grades should be in by now.”
I’m in the bathroom stripping down when I hear a sound that terrifies me to my soul.
“This bitch.”
Because that’s when I know. But I walk back into the bedroom in my boxers and pretend I don’t.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyes flicker up to mine, and yeah, I recognize the look. Pure darkness. Pure rage.
“My art history class,” she says, low and slow. “The bitch gave me a B.”
“What were you supposed to have?”
“An A. My paper…she gave me an 88. I needed a 90 to get an A in the class, and she couldn’t manage to give me those two points. She did that shit on purpose.”
“Raya.”
“She did.” She shakes her head as her eyes drift past me, fixing on the wall. “She never liked me. I could tell. From day one, that bitch hated me. I don’t know why. Maybe jealousy. Maybe because I asked a lot of questions. I don’t know. But I’ma find out.”
I make my way back to the bed and sit next to her. I look at the computer, not really sure what I’m looking for. “Is it possible that she just thought you earned a B on that paper?”
“I earned an A, Ace. I did.”
“Okay. I believe you. Did she give you any feedback?”
“Yes. I read it and I emailed her for clarification, but she never responded.”
“Well, y’all are on break for the holidays, right? She probably isn’t checking her email right now.”
Her eyes are still glassy and dazed and frozen on the wall, and now I’m concerned.
“Talk to me, Ray Ray.”
Her eyes snap to mine as the corners of her mouth twitch up. That silly little nickname is kinda like my emergency antidote when she goes dark like this. Break glass in case of unhinged behavior.
“I worked hard on that paper,” she says. “You saw me.”
“You did,” I agree.
She shrugs. "She has to pay for this."
"Raya. Just talk to her. She has office hours, right?"
"Not now. I'll have to wait until after the break."
"So make an appointment."
Her jaw is tight. Lips pursed. Eyes wild. I already see the makings of a plot, and I don't like it.
"I don't wanna be mad for two weeks. You know I'm gonna be mad for two weeks, Ace. It's gonna eat at me and eat at me until I explode."
"So put it out of your mind. Stewing ain't healthy."
She sighs loudly, shaking her head. "Fine. I guess I don't have a choice."
"Okay. Good. And do you promise me you won’t do anything crazy?"
She has the nerve to look offended. “Why would you say that?”
“Come on, Raya. It’s a valid concern.”
“Whatever. I won’t." She closes her laptop. "I promise.”
I really wanna believe her.
I tell myself I believe her.
But I don't.