Chapter 16
Courtney
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw Mya with her earbuds in, scrolling through her phone with one hand and petting Vuitton
with the other. She’d been my saving grace after the out-of-the-blue announcement Sasha made. And this was after her father
had tried to check me about how I handled my business. I was even more pissed that Mya had been put into a position to try
and play peacekeeper. She’d done her best to talk me down so I wouldn’t go off. It was out of respect for Big Mama and Mya
that I held my tongue.
But I was still silently fuming since Sasha had dropped the bombshell about visiting a fertility clinic. It had taken everything
in me not to lose my shit and to fake pleasantries for the remaining time we were there. What the fuck was wrong with her?
To go behind my back after we had already discussed the fact that we weren’t doing kids right now—it wasn’t just the disregard
she’d displayed, it was the flippant way in which she’d dropped that bomb. Making an announcement like that and not caring
about the betrayal.
It was a major betrayal.
And with everything else . . . I tightened my fingers on the wheel and let out a hard exhale.
“Why you still got stank face?”
I cut my eyes over to my wife, but said nothing.
“Oh, so you g’on act like I’m not speakin’ to you?”
I took another glance in the rearview then blew out an annoyed breath. “I mean, you didn’t see any need to talk to me about
going to a fertility doctor, so why we need a conversation now?”
She smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Because anytime I try to have a conversation with you, you always shut it down.”
“Yeah, I do, because you don’t be caring about nothin’ but what you want. I’m already up to my eyeballs in responsibility
and takin’ care of everything. And you wanna add to that with zero consideration for . . .” I briefly cast my attention back
on my sister’s reflection, this time catching her eye. “Consideration for anything.”
Sasha crossed her arms and leaned back to rest against her door. She was digging in. “What the hell does that mean?”
I cranked my neck from one side to the other. A knot of tension had been at the base of my neck since Quincy started in on
me and it’d only gotten tighter. “Let’s not do this now.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why? Finally have you in a place where you can’t just run off when you wanna end shit and you still tryin’.”
I blew out another breath, my frustrations growing and my patience waning. “Because I don’t want to have this conversation
in front of my sister,” I snapped. “So, can this just fuckin’ wait?”
Sasha relaxed her posture for a moment and glanced in the back seat, almost as if she’d forgotten Mya was with us.
“Courtney.” My sister’s voice grabbed my attention. She pulled one of her earbuds free. “Look, I don’t want to be in this
and I’m trying to not listen, but there’s nowhere I can go.”
“Sorry, My-My.” I cut my eyes over at Sasha, who said nothing.
“I don’t want you being stressed because you have to take care of me. I can get a part-time job or something. Or . . . or
ask Mom and Dad for help. They send me money every so often.”
My heart squeezed listening to her say that. I scratched a hand down my face. “Mya, you’re fine. And your only job is keeping
your grades up and your ass on the Dean’s List.”
I caught the reflection of her eye roll. “Yeah, yeah. But all I’m sayin’ is you’ve been takin’ care of me since . . . well,
always. You shouldn’t—”
“Girl, what I say?”
“You know I’m twenty, not twelve.”
“What’s that supposed to mean to me?” I flicked my attention to the rearview again, making brief eye contact with my baby
sister.
“I’m just saying, you have a family, and that needs to be your priority.”
Her statement was a fucking gut punch. I never wanted Mya to feel like she was a burden to me because she wasn’t. It pissed
me off she’d heard any part of our argument and internalized she was a problem in any sort of way.
“I’m sorry, when did we suddenly stop being related?”
“You know what I mean.”
“The fuck if I do. You have never not been a priority to me, and that is not about to change. The fuck!”
Neither one of them said anything else. Sasha pulled her earbuds from her purse and the two of them melted into their own
worlds, leaving me even more pissed. I couldn’t win with anybody, it seemed. The rest of the ride was quiet, but the tension
remained a fourth passenger all the same.
When we got home, Mya mumbled something about being tired and escaped to the guest room. And I felt that, because I was drained as well. Sasha took Vuitton out and I headed up to our room. A nice long relaxing shower was calling my name.
The first holiday I’d spent at home in a while, and it’d turned into a shit show. I wiggled my fingers as much as I could
in my cast, the whole reason I was here and dealing with this instead of being on the court. I was going stir-crazy. Made
worse by the fact that sitting around meant I wasn’t making any money.
As I stood under the spray, my mind replayed her announcement over and over, and a ball of frustration and anger and hurt
grew in my chest. It pushed, taking up space until I couldn’t breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut as everything was too loud,
yet muffled at the same time. I leaned forward, bracing my good hand on the cool tiles, and did my best to take in slow deep
breaths. My head throbbed. I could hear the whooshing in my ears. Everything felt jittery as if I’d consumed way too much
caffeine.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Was I having a stroke?
I took a few more breaths, needing to get it together. I was an elite fucking athlete, I could not—would not—fall apart in
the goddamn shower. Or at the very least, if I was having a medical emergency, I would not be naked when found.
After a few more stabilizing breaths, I eased down onto the built-in bench then rested my head against the shower wall. I
was drained. The water splashed around me as I sat, trying to pull myself together. I knew I couldn’t stay in the shower all
night, but the undercurrent of jitteriness remained, and it was different than game day nerves; it was an uneasiness I couldn’t
place and didn’t like.
When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, Sasha was sitting on the bed, sipping on something, and if I had to guess, I’d
say it was probably Hennessy.
“It’s later,” she said.
I wanted to go to bed and be done with this day, but it was clear that was not in the cards for me anytime soon. “It is,”
I replied as I strolled over to my dresser. I slipped on a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top before sitting on the
other side of the bed to lotion up.
“When were you planning to tell me you were trying to get pregnant? After you were successful?”
“Whatever, Courtney. Don’t act like you give a shit about how I spend my time since yo ass can’t be bothered. Everybody’s
needs and wants are a priority over mine, you damn near said so in the car, so don’t be gettin’ mad when I do somethin’ for
myself.”
I stopped lotioning my legs. Surely, I hadn’t heard her correctly. Slowly, I stood, narrowing my eyes. “I’m sorry, what? You’ve
got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”
She swallowed down her drink and slammed the empty glass on her nightstand. “No, Courtney, I’m not kiddin’ you. You always
got somethin’ to do. You always gotta take care of this, and always gotta take care of that. When do you take care of me?”
I started pacing around. There was no way she really just said those words to me. There was no fucking way. “Are you out of
your goddamn mind? What do you mean ‘when do I take care of you’? Look around, Sash. Look a-fucking-round. Where are we at?
You think I wanted to live out here in fucking Johns Creek where we’re probably two of five of the Black people in the whole
damn city? Every time I’m at the store folks be looking sideways, but you wanted this location for whatever fucking reason.
I was cool with my apartment, which was closer to the arena, and there was more of us. You wanted this. So, what did I do?
I made it happen for you.”
There was no way she couldn’t see how far off base her thinking was.
My brain could not comprehend Sasha having the actual level of selfishness and self-absorption she was displaying.
This was a merry-go-round of bullshit, and after what her dad had been trying to imply, maybe the apple didn’t fall too far from that tree.
“I drive a 2020 Honda Accord. You wanted the big-body Jag, so that’s what you got. All you do is buy shit. Clothes, shoes,
purses. You keep your hair and nails laid. All I fucking do is take care of you and your desires to have the finer things
in life. I work my ass off to make you happy, and it’s not fucking enough. I’m tired. I’m so fuckin’ tired, Sasha. I don’t
know how much more I could give you over what I’ve already given you, what I continue to give you. Nothing I’ve done, or am
doing, is appreciated. You want me to be everything, everywhere, all the time, and how am I supposed to accomplish that?”
I rubbed at the ache in my chest. There was only so much pushing my feelings aside for the sake of peace I could do. The fact
that she still hadn’t said anything about my winning the championship was like a flashing beacon reminding me she didn’t give
a damn.
“I . . . I can’t do this, Sash. You have an NBA appetite on a WNBA budget, and I’m drained.”
I sucked in a deep breath, failing at any attempt to hold in my anger. “And on top of all that, you want to bring a child
into this? How fucking irresponsible and goddamn selfish can you be? And to do it behind my fuckin’ back. That’s like cheating
on me, Sasha! Goin’ out and gettin’ yourself knocked up, or at least trying to without fuckin’ talking to me first.”
She sat there staring at me, not saying a word, face tight.
I loved her, I truly did, but I was at the point where I didn’t think that was enough. I was giving her everything I could. And not only was it not enough, the unmoved look plastered on her face drove home the lack of appreciation.