chapter three.
cyn
“He wants you to do what now?” Evie asks, placing her Chanel purse on the island.
It’s a Friday night, and instead of being out kicking it, her eyes are wide and attentive to my every word.
She’s my first cousin on my mom’s side and also my best friend – the person I talk to when I have issues.
I can’t very well talk to Ellis. My brother is so involved in his fitness business, he doesn’t really have time for much else, especially my lil’ ol’ problems. My friend Laureena – we graduated from high school together, but she became a mom early in life.
She was eight months pregnant when she walked across the stage and accepted her diploma.
She went straight into the workforce and worked her way up to manager at The Chicken Shack. The woman stays busy.
So, Evie it is!
We share everything. She listens to my drama and gives me advice. I listen to hers and do the same. Unfortunately for her, I usually have more drama than she does. Brix gives me plenty of frustration and content. I could start a podcast about the man and never run out of material.
“You heard me correctly. Brixton wants me to pretend we’re still together to appease his parents.”
“What you cooking?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you angrily chopping—murdering—those carrots?”
“Angrily?”
“Yeah. I’m scared of you. Woo!”
“I’m chopping them to put in freezer bags so they don’t go bad.”
“So responsible. See...you housewife material for sure, ‘cause I ain’t chopping nothing, and I ain’t saving nothing.”
“You will, one day. But let’s stay on the topic at hand, please. I need some serious help.”
“Girl, bye. This is Brixton we’re talking about. Brixton is a saint in my eyes. He’s like the nicest man in Christenbury Hills, and you got him. He can’t be all that bad.”
“I don’t have him. We’re separated.”
“Physically, yes, but guess what?” she asks as she stands. Walking over to me, she touches my chest and says, “But in here, are you separated?”
“Girl, if you don’t get your hand off of me…”
She laughs her way back to her barstool, sits down, and says, “Look–Brix is a nice guy. He wants to please everybody. I told you that before y’all got married, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It just needs to be checked.”
“I agree. That’s part of his problem.”
“What’s the other?”
“He’s so worried about what people think of him that he can’t live his life.”
“Mmm, hmm. That, too. What’s funny though is, if he’s into people-pleasing so much like you say, what happened to satisfying your needs and making sure he made himself available to spend time with you and all that?”
“That’s a question only he can answer.”
I bag up the carrots, put them in the fridge, and then wash the wooden cutting board.
Evie asks, “So, have you given it any thought?”
“I have.” I rinse off the cutting board and dry it with a towel. “I’ve been thinking about it all week. I think I’ma call him back tomorrow with my decision.”
“And what might that decision be?”
I hang up the towel and say, “I don’t want to do it, but I feel like if it’s going to keep a smile on his parents’ faces, then I suppose I need to.
I don’t want to hurt them. They put a lot of pressure on Brixton to be this flawless person who didn’t make mistakes.
It’s too much for anybody, honestly. I don’t know how he was able to live under so much expectation and scrutiny when he was growing up. ”
“Girl, me either. I would’ve been done lost my mind.”
“Girl, you and me both!”
“But he’s grown now,” she says. “Mommy and Daddy shouldn’t have much influence over what he does.”
“He knows that. I just want to see him put his foot down for once and stop being so doggone nice. I want to see the alpha come out of him.”
She chuckles. “I hope I’m around for it!”
“Really, Evie.”
“Yeah!” She laughs some more and then asks, “Do you miss him, though? Be honest.”
I lean against the counter and cross my arms, thinking about her question for a moment. I want to be as honest as possible.
I say, “I miss being married. Miss having someone to share my life with. But, real talk, I missed him long before I left him.”
“Dang,” she says and shakes her head. “So, there’s no chance of y’all getting back together?”
“Ummm…” I drawl. “Unfortunately, I think that train has left the station, girl. That’s one of the reasons I don’t want to do this.
Do you know how difficult it would be to pretend I have these intimate feelings for him?
I’m not good at pretending or hiding the way I really feel about someone or something. ”
“But surely you can do it for four days.”
I release an anxious breath and say, “I’ll definitely have to sleep on it.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that,” she advises. “You should sleep on it. And, look at it this way. If you do this for him, he owes you a favor too, right?”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“Yeah, so I think you should do it, but ultimately, the decision is yours.”
“Yep…” I say with crossed arms. “Anyway, thanks for listening to my drama.”
“Girl, you ain’t got to thank me. It’s cool.” She stands, stretches, and says, “Anyway, let me get on up out of here. I’m tired, and I will definitely be sleeping in tomorrow.”
“I think I have no choice but to sleep in until I figure out what I’m going to do,” I tell her.
I especially don’t know what I’m going to do at this very moment. Do I want to help the man who put everything in life ahead of me? Or should I leave him hanging?
I hug Evie and walk with her to her car.
I pull in a long breath of this fall air and enjoy the warmness of the sun against my face.
It’s too beautiful of a day to be stuck inside.
It’s the kind of day to go for a walk just because, or spend some time in the park.
Or wash your car. I’ll definitely find something to do outside to keep myself distracted.
I end up settling for a short walk, kicking leaves, and thinking about all the good times I used to have with Brix.
Admittedly, I’ve been trying my hardest not to go running back to him because the good times were phenomenal, and the memories of the way he makes love to me has me in a chokehold.
Whenever he was available for me, I was wholly his, and he made sure I knew it.
Was I being selfish for wanting more of his time?
How much time was too much time? I didn’t feel needy.
I felt unimportant. When I’m with my husband, I want to feel like I’m the most important thing in the world to him.
I didn’t feel that.
Unlike him, I told my parents I moved out.
It wasn’t right away. I allowed some time to pass, but eventually after about three weeks or so, I couldn’t hold it any longer.
My mother shook her head in disappointment, giving me a whole spiel about how people didn’t know how to stay married these days.
My dad sort of had my back. According to him, if the man ain’t handling his business, what use is there for a woman to stick around?
But he also schooled me, too. Told me that two people were supposed to work together in marriage.
It was supposed to be a give and take. A partnership.
But how could that happen when the partner was gone all the time?
Anyway, I don’t think the separation hit me until after I dropped the news to them. I went home that night and cried until my pillow was soaked, and when that didn’t make me feel any better, raiding my snack cabinet did.
Now, I’m walking alone.
Kicking leaves.
Reminiscing.
But at least this alone time is to be expected.
It definitely was not when I was married.
When I had someone to share my life with.
Being single and lonely is much better than being married and lonely.
It’s a lose-lose situation if you think about it, but since I’m single, I have no expectations of anyone. It’s just me.
Yep.
Just me.