Chapter Thirteen #2
I sat my folded shirt down on the couch and crossed the room, sinking down onto the other side of the bed without looking his way. He remained at the end of the bed before he stood up. He was standing there like he knew he looked good. Who was I kidding? Jonah was fine.
That little grin could get anything out of any woman, including me. Unlike the hoes he messed with, I had restraint and would never allow his charming smile, beautiful face, and sexy body to convert me to the dark side.
Jonah was the dark side.
He took his shirt off, exposing his caramel skin––every inch of it covered in detailed tattoos that had a purpose and a story. I felt like I could read his entire life story across his body if I looked long enough.
And only God knew that I was looking.
His abs were sculpted, his arms thick enough to carry all that arrogance he possessed.
And his beard? Jesus. Jonah’s beard had no business being that full, that clean.
As if he went to angels to get his lineup.
He always wore two gold chains that rested on his chest, and I imagined them swinging in my face as he hovered over me.
Yalina, stop.
With his shirt off, my attention was now drawn to his sweatpants, which sat low on his waist. Was he doing this on purpose?
Was it both a warning and an invitation?
His eyes had always been the problem for me.
Quiet and intense, like he could see through me.
It was like he wanted to say something slick and was waiting for me to slip.
Maybe I did want to see what he would do with me. Still, I played it cool like always.
When he turned around, those lips curled into that grin.
His lips were the kind that made you pause mid-argument, because even when he was tight-lipped, they looked good enough to suck on.
And the Lord knew I wanted to suck on them.
His nose was strong, straight, and fitting.
Jonah might have come off like a pretty boy, but he had that grown man face––like he’d been through some shit and even participated in it.
He wasn’t the kind of man who went down easy.
It didn’t matter how fine he was, though. It was dangerous for me to feel this way about him. I wasn’t going to be that girl who falls for a man while being in a relationship.
I couldn’t be her.
When he went to take a shower, I quickly grabbed my phone and called Tatiana.
She was the only person I could talk to about this.
She answered the phone sounding wide awake.
If there ever came a day when she picked up the phone and sounded half asleep, I would be shocked as hell.
Sleep and my girl didn’t mix, and I hated that for her.
“I’m assuming you took the best nap once you were settled.”
I snickered. “The best nap––mouth all wide open and drool on the pillow.”
She laughed. “Good. You need the sleep. You’re always so busy working.”
“I could say the same about you. Why are you even up right now? And don’t blame it on the time change either.”
“In my defense, there’s a beautiful terrace attached to my suite, and I did take a nap on the lounge out there.”
“I won’t complain or get on your case since you took a slight nap. But knowing you, it was only a fifteen-minute nap.”
“Ten minutes, because Rick Valora came to my suite to have a quick chat over tea. You know rich people.”
I snorted. “You are rich people, Tatiana.”
“Not that type, I suppose. Anyway, why are you calling me?”
I pulled my legs up to my chest and started rubbing the scar from my childhood.
I was seven years old, and my cousin was teaching me how to ride a bike.
I fell in the process, scraping my knees and crying at the sight of the blood.
But no sooner than my mother cleaned up my cuts, I was right back out there on that bike, determined to master riding it in one summer afternoon.
The scar was still visible and a reminder of my tenacity.
“Jonah’s room was overbooked, so he’s staying in mine.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s that sound?”
“You on birth control, right?”
I laughed. “Tatiana.”
“What? I’m asking because the sexual tension between you two is thicker than me. Does your room have a pull-out couch?”
“No.”
“Yeah, be ready to toot that ass up, Yaya. Or should I call you Yummy?”
I climbed out of the bed and walked onto the balcony. The water show was now dark, but the lights of Las Vegas were still brighter than ever.
“I’m not going to sleep with him. I mean, the thought is there, but we can’t do that. We share a godchild together, and it would only complicate things.”
“If that’s the excuse you want to use, I’m going to let you have that,” she replied, chewing in my ear.
“I have a girlfriend, remember? I’m not that kind of girl who just does someone wrong,” I replied, even though my mind was telling me that my relationship with Sav was over. I just needed my heart to agree.
The line went quiet. I knew what Tatiana wanted to say without her actually saying it. She finally broke the silence, her voice low and steady. She was coming from a place of love, and I knew that before the words even left her mouth.
“You were never really happy with Sav, Yaya. Not once.”
I remained quiet, allowing her to continue.
“How many times did you cry over that girl? How many times have I stayed up on the phone with you while you waited for her to come home at night? Yaya, you begged her to leave the streets alone––handed her chances most people would give their life for––and she spat in your face every time.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump that formed. It hit me hard because every word she said was the truth. She had front row seats to witnessing the shit I put up with Sav––all the broken promises, disrespect, and arguments. Tatiana was always there to listen while I vented.
She cleared her throat, still not done expressing how she felt. “Sav could dish out judgment to everybody else like she was the second coming, but when it came to listening? To growing with you and having the life you told her you wanted, she could never choose you, babe. Never.”
Her voice cracked slightly. It wasn’t because she was upset with me, but because she hated to see me hurt.
See me clinging to a dead branch that offered me nothing.
The leaves were gone, and the branch was falling apart right in my hands, but I kept trying to water it, hoping to revive what was already dead.
If I were honest with myself, there was nothing left to do but put that branch down and move on with my life.
“I hear you, Tati.”
“You keep loving her despite receiving nothing but scraps in return, Yaya. She never poured into you the way you have poured into her, loved her, and chose her.”
The heavy silence on the line filled me with emotion. I quickly wiped away the tears that were slowly rolling down my cheeks. What could I say? She was right.
Tatiana had sat back and allowed me to live my life while always showing up when I needed her. Now, she was speaking the truth, letting me know this wasn’t healthy, and I couldn’t keep going on like this with Sav.
I finally cleared my throat, forcing out the words despite how heavy they felt.
“She’s just… Tati, she’s been through a lot. It’s not easy for her to trust people or change.”
My voice wasn’t even convincing to myself, so I knew Tatiana could see right through what I had said to her. The silence on the other end of the line confirmed what I already knew.
She released a sigh, not one that was rude; she was just tired. Tired of me having the strength to defend someone who wouldn’t defend me.
“You make excuses for her. Cover for her, love her, fight for her. Name a time when she has done those things for you?”
I tried to respond, even defend myself, but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t form, and my mouth became dry as cotton while trying to find the right words.
Her voice softened. “Do you ever think that maybe you’re trying to heal a version of her that never existed in the first place?
“Can we talk tomorrow?” I said, attempting to abruptly end the call.
By this point, the tears were streaming down my face because I had gotten exactly what I called her for––a dose of reality that I needed. A reminder that I had to stop living in some fantasy world that didn’t exist.
“I love you, Yaya. Get some sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow, or even better, we can get together for a girls’ night round table with lots of wine.”
I laughed through the tears while wiping them away. “This conversation, coupled with wine, sounds like the best idea.”
“Get some sleep.”
“You, too.”
“Eh, just get enough for both of us,” she said before hanging up.
Deep down, I always knew the truth. I wasn’t in love with the woman Sav was; I loved the woman I hoped to shape her into.
She was my passion project, the acknowledgment I sought to prove she could change.
I had written this love story of what our relationship could be with a version of her that never existed and never could.
After sitting on the balcony for a few, I wiped my eyes one last time and went inside, closing the door behind me.
I rummaged through my purse for my favorite makeup wipes and used them to clean my face of the tears.
Climbing into bed, I checked my phone for any notifications from my sister before turning on the TV, but I wasn’t really paying attention to what was on the screen.
The bathroom door cracked open, steam following behind Jonah like he had sparked up in there.
He had his towel wrapped around his waist, another in his hand, as he draped it around his neck.
His skin shimmered, his tattoos glistening, and his beard dripped with beads of water.
I quickly tried to act normal while still staring at an infomercial that I hadn’t even noticed I had been watching.
Normal.
What did that even mean? I was trying to act normal, like I hadn’t just been on the phone getting some real-life advice that I still wasn’t sure I was in the place to receive.
Jonah wasn’t dumb, and from the way he paused in front of the TV and stared directly at me, I could tell he knew I had been crying.
He pulled the towel from around his neck and dried his beard, never breaking our eye contact. One stupid tear fell down my face, and that was when the concerned entered his eyes.
He cared.
“What’s wrong, Yummy?” he asked, his voice low.
It wasn’t his typical tone. There wasn’t a hint of humor or teasing behind his question. His tone was softer, concerned, desperate to know what the problem was so he could fix it. I shook my head quickly, praying that if I moved quick enough, that one tear wouldn’t have any company.
“Nothing. Stupid show has me crying,” I lied and grabbed my phone so it could distract me.
If Bloom loved me, she would call right this second and give me a reason to avoid this conversation, I thought to myself. It’s one thing to have this type of conversation with my best friend, but I certainly don’t want to have it with Jonah.
“Yalina,” he said, speaking even softer this time.
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, studying me as if he could see the cracks in my foundation.
I couldn’t look up at him because the dam would break, and I would look foolish.
Jonah never got to see this side of me. He saw the woman who helped Tatiana run her entire life––the woman who was quick on her feet and a hard worker, determined to prove to her best friend that she was grateful for all the opportunities she had given her.
“I promise I’m alright, Jonah,” I lied.
He towered over me, and I refused to look up because I knew I’d have to lie to him, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.
I felt a dip in the bed as I kept staring at my phone, pretending I was doing anything to avoid having to look into his eyes.
The lump in my throat continued to grow, and I nearly choked myself trying to push it back down.
Jonah didn’t say anything or try to force anything out of me.
Instead, he remained seated on my side of the bed, still wrapped in his towel.
The heat continued to rise from his skin, as if he had used all of the hot water the hotel offered while showering.
He was close enough that I could feel him.
So close that if I leaned slightly, I would fall right into him.
For a while neither of us said anything. We just remained quiet, only soft breaths being heard between the both of us. Jonah held space for me to come to him if I wanted to. I hated how much I wanted to be in his space and how much my hands trembled as I set my phone on the nightstand.
His eyes roamed to my hand, watching as I placed my phone down.
Then he slowly reached for me and gently pulled me closer to him.
His hand graced the side of my thigh as he stared in my eyes.
He was asking me a silent question, and I had granted him silent permission.
No words were needed because we both could read each other’s mind in this moment.
His eyes were low with temptation as he held me.
I don’t know if I was overly tired, or Tatiana’s voice was echoing in my ears, or just the way this man saw me. He truly saw me when I didn’t want to be seen. It was a gift not many people had, but he did.
Leaning into him, I pressed my forehead into his shoulder and broke down sobbing. He wrapped his arms around me without hesitation. He didn’t need to ask any questions or try to fix the problem right then. He only wanted to comfort me.
His big, steady arm wrapped around my body, pulling me into his warmth.
Jonah was patient, not rushing me. He was just here, allowing me to get everything out without asking a million questions.
His hand slid up my back, rubbing it slowly, the way you would calm somebody who didn’t know how to fall apart properly.
“You don’t always have to be the strong one, mama,” he mumbled into my shoulder, his voice low and rough against my skin. “Never with me.”
Though his words were meant to comfort me, they caused me to break down even more. Because for the first time in a long time, I believed it.