Chapter 15
O nce again, tall, handsome, thoughtful Rex was there for me and as always, he showed up right when I needed him. It’s like we are connected and he can feel when I’m going through it. No calls or texts are needed; he just knows. He somehow feels my heartache and minutes later, he’s here for me. Yesterday, he rang my bell ten seconds before I totally lost it and he stayed with me, holding me until my tear ducts experienced a drought.
Although I hate that I have shed tears almost every time we have been together, I am truly grateful that I can be vulnerable with him and there is no judgment. None at all, not even in his eyes. That man honestly cares for me and having a man authentically into me feels amazing. It places me in a comfortable space where I can stop being the strong Truce Redmond. With him, all of my protective walls are down, my broken heart is open to possibilities, and I’m simply Truce. He elicits the side of me most aren’t privy to.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asks.
“A little after we hung up,” I admit.
Once he finally left and got Aryel, I dragged myself into my bathroom, filled my tub with lavender bath salts and peppermint oil, and took a long much-needed relaxing bath. Afterwards, I raided the comfort food section of my pantry and grabbed some graham crackers and crunchy peanut butter. I enjoyed that in bed while Rex’s sexy ass filled my screen on FaceTime. We talked until his yawning couldn’t be controlled. That was around midnight and I didn’t fall asleep until three episodes of The Equalizer later. Because I feel like we are always focusing on me and my heartache, I switch gears to him and ask about the tournament. “Have you made it to Diamond Falls yet?”
“Yeah. We got here about fifteen minutes ago. We compete at eleven so we are getting a light breakfast right now at this little spot here, The Pancake House.”
“I love that place. Best pecan pancakes hands down.”
“Ion know 'bout pecans in pancakes. That don’t really sound right.”
“Let me guess. You got grilled chicken and eggs?”
“And a stack but how you know that?”
“Some Saturdays, you do eat breakfast at the restaurant,” I say and his eyes light up and a low, sexy chuckle fills my ears.
“So, you really were watching a nigga? I knew it,” he says.
“I won’t confirm or deny that,” I say, smiling.
My team, especially Taj, always teased me about him. When I’m at the restaurant, I spend most of my time in the back, my office, or the kitchen area. I rarely make appearances in the dining room unless customers request my presence. However, on Wednesday, Fridays, and Saturdays, I found every reason or excuse to be out there, checking for him. I loved how he commanded my dining room as soon as he was inside and I adored his interactions with his daughter. It was everything I would have wanted with Daija.
“You don’t have to. I know.”
“Well, go eat your breakfast and wish Aryel good luck from me. Call me when it’s over.”
“I will but I hope I’m still seeing you tonight,” he says, hopeful.
“You will and I’ll promise not to cry,” I say while laughing although I’m serious as hell. Deep down, I know my tears are safe with him, but he doesn’t deserve that version of me all the damn time. I want whatever this is between us and he needs to see a different side of me, and hell, I don’t want to cry anymore either.
“But if you need to, I got you.”
“I know. I’ll talk to you and see you later. Bye.”
“Bye, beautiful.”
I end the call then stare at my screen. I haven’t talked to or seen Daija since she found out. She made no attempts to reach out to me and I took Rex’s advice. I let her have her space and didn’t reach out either. However, I’m not letting her leave today without seeing me. Not only do I need to lay my eyes on her, I also have to wrap my arms around her. So I take a huge chance and text her.
Me: Good morning. Breakfast?
Daija: Gm. Not hungry, she responds.
A smile creeps across my face. A text back is a huge ass start and I’ll take it. Trying my luck while saying a silent prayer, I type my next text.
Me: I’ll be there at ten to take you to the airport.
For a moment, there’s nothing. Then those anxiety causing bubbles appear. I hold my breath as they flash on my screen. It seems like forever before they disappear and aren’t replaced with words. I tried. My entire body deflates and I ease back on my bed, defeated. The little hope I had instantly vacates my soul. I take a deep breath, sit up, and get off the bed. When I reach down to grab my phone, it vibrates. Daija.
Daija: See you at 10
I damn near scream from joy as I reread her text over and over. While beaming from ear to ear, I head to my kitchen. The graham crackers and peanut butter I consumed last night are long gone and I’m hungry. After starting my gingerbread cookie latte in my K-Café, I take out eggs, heavy whipping cream, gouda, spinach, and onions to make a quick omelet. When I grab my latte, I decide to add meat to my omelet so I grab some of the deboned rotisserie chicken that I keep in the fridge. It comes in handy for a quick meal.
As I eat, I text Monae to see if she’s up. We haven’t talked in a few days and I don’t know if she worked late last night. If she had, I don’t want to wake her with a call. When she answers in the affirmative, I prop my phone up and FaceTime her.
“I’m up, hoe, but not camera ready,” she scoffs.
“Turn your camera on. I’ve seen you with a damn scarf before.”
“No scarf only hair and I look a mess thanks to Just and a good ass morning wake up,” she says, practically moaning.
“Some information is too much. I’ll be glad when you learn what falls into the category,” I tease.
“Please go to hell. Let’s not forget it was you who encouraged me to cook dinner for him and sleep with him when we first got together. You were also the maid of honor at my wedding who brought me a whole freak kit for the honeymoon. You know what goes down over here,” she snaps back.
“Assuming and knowing are too different things. Now, turn the camera on. I hate talking to a black screen.”
“I wish I might. Aside from the tiny, tiny bags under your eyes, you look cute and I will not show myself. Where are you going?”
“How bad are the bags?” I ask because I thought I had done well with concealing the evidence of my binge crying.
“Truce, bags are expected. You’re grieving.”
I’m more than grieving but I’m not ready to reveal that to her yet. I need to know where Daija stands before I tell anybody else. So. My best friend will definitely be told just not today.
“But Rex is taking me somewhere tonight. I need them gone before seven.”
“Then a little Preparation-H is needed and I do mean a little, like half a pea-size amount under each eye.”
“Will it burn?” I question.
“If you put it in your eyes, I’m sure it will, but you are putting it under your eyes, on the bags,” she says with laughter in her smart-mouthed tone.
“Smart ass!”
“So where is he taking you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, be cute and sexy either way. Wear that cute bodysuit you got from Passion with your brown puffer and those boots you got with the coat.”
“You don’t think that’s too much?”
“Hell no. I love that bodysuit. Plus, it’s easy on and easy off. That man has earned some coochie and he doesn’t need to struggle to reach it.”
“Remind me again why I even try to have adult, civilized conversations with yo’ crazy ass.”
“I’m simply telling the truth,” she says then I hear my goddaughter Justice in the background.
“Momma, I’m hungry,” she says.
“Good morning, Justice.”
“Sorry. Good morning.”
“Is MJ up?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then see if he can fix you some cereal. If not, I’ll get up.”
“Okay.”
A few seconds later, Monae sighs. “Whenever you want to come get your godchild for a few days, she’ll be ready.”
“Unless you and Just have plans for the kids, I was going to get them a few days for spring break.”
“No plans,” she says quickly. “Did I hear you say for the whole spring break?”
“You did not,” I say then laugh.
“Girl, she’s back. Let me get up. Send me a picture before you head out tonight.”
“I will.”
We end the call and I get up. It’s nine-thirty and I need to get ready. I clean my kitchen, reheat my latte, then rush into my room. Ten minutes later, I’m dressed and heading to get Daija. My dad’s car isn’t in the driveway again and that makes me smile.
When I start to enter my unlock code in the door, it opens. Daija is standing on the other side and her two bags are at her sides.
“You’re ready ready,” I comment and she nods.
I grab the handle of one and she gets the other. As I roll her bag to my ride, she sets the alarm and exits the house. After putting her luggage in the trunk, she closes it then joins me inside.
Following her lead, we ride in silence and I’ll take it. I’m just thrilled that she’s here with me. As I drive, I glance over at her a few times. Mostly, she’s on her phone, but the few times she isn’t our eyes meet and she turns away quickly. On the final time they meet, she doesn’t look away. Instead, she stares for a moment. Her hand swipes across her eyes then she looks away. At the sight of her tears, my breath hitches in my chest and lingers for a moment before I’m able to catch it.
When I pull up curbside at Delta, she practically jumps out. I do too and open my trunk. I remove both bags and place them on the pavement. Then, without asking for permission, I wrap my arms around her. With all my love, I embrace her. The hug is one-sided but I don’t care. I need to hold my child.
“No matter what you think right now. I hope you know I love you with all of my heart, Daija. I have from the day I knew I was having you and it will never stop. Never.”
I embrace her for a moment more then release her. Once again, tears are on her face and she wipes them. It takes all of my strength to keep mine from falling. “Please call me when you land,” I plead and she doesn’t respond at all.
She just pulls the handles up on her bags and starts to walk off. I shrug then turn to head back to my driver side. I barely take two steps when I hear my name.
“Truce,” she utters.
I turn and she’s walking back to me. Without saying another word, she throws her arms around me for barely a few seconds then quickly breaks away and rushes inside the airport.
My baby.
The little strength I had dissipates and I let my happy tears fall as I watch her in the skycap line. I haven’t lost her.
“ R ex, you will be here in an hour. I can’t get ready if I’m on the phone with you,” I say while staring into his sexy, dark eyes on my iPad screen. My phone is charging and I need to be mobile as I try to get ready for our date to who knows where.
“Why can’t you? Prop that up and do what you need to do. I want to watch.” He smirks but his tone is firm.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I want to watch my girl get ready for me?” he says and damn .
The thought of actually letting him watch and the look in his eyes as he makes the request causes a chill to vibrate through my entire being. While smiling probably too damn hard, I remove my satin robe. I normally do my hair and face with it on but he wants to watch so I’ll give him a show.
With my iPad in hand, I journey back into the bathroom and prop my iPad on the counter. After getting a bottle of my favorite body oil from the cabinet, I step back so he can see my nude lace bra and coordinating G-string. Whole panties with this bodysuit are a no-go.
“Are you already dressed?” I ask as I rub oil on my arms but he doesn’t answer. “Rex?” I question then lean into my screen to see if he’s still there or distracted. He is and smiling while apparently leaning back on a sofa. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah but barely. Shit, I was caught up. You’re beautiful,” he says without taking his eyes off the screen.
My damn cheeks burn. I’m blushing for sure. It’s not that I don’t get compliments, because I do often, but not like this. It’s so much more than mere words from him. The pure adoration in his eyes and tone can be felt through the screen.
“Thank you,” I utter before stepping back and resuming my moisturizing routine.
After applying the body oil, I wash my hands then start on my face. Monae’s Preparation H hack really worked. I applied it under my eyes and the bags vanished in thirty minutes. I didn’t even have to leave it on long at all.
While his eyes stay glued on me, I apply my pure shea butter to my face, followed by two small squirts of BB cream, then brown lip liner and gloss. Thanks to Daija’s friend Morgan at Pretty Peeps, my eyebrows are perfectly arched and my lashes are still full, surviving all my crying. I unpin my hair and use my wide-toothed comb to style it. He loves it all because when I lean in to grab my iPad, he licks his lips sexily.
“Damn,” he groans. “I don’t want to end this but I gotta leave now. I have a stop before I scoop you. Fuck,” he utters before raising off the sofa and I smile.
“Go and I’ll be ready when you get here,” I tell him. While shaking his head, he ends the call. I glance in the mirror one more time. “Yes,” I say out loud, pleased that I look a thousand times better than I have these last two days. His adoration and Daija’s hug and her later text when she made it back to Atlanta all have me feeling back to myself.
Two minutes after seven, he’s tapping on my door. I’m dressed. My selfie has been sent to Monae and she approves so I’m ready. I place my glass of white wine into the fridge, rub my finger under my lip, then walk into the living room. After I grab my tote from the sofa, I open the door. His arms are around me and his lips on mine as soon as he sees me, and like always, he pulls my soul out of my body. There should be a master kissing class at CFU and Rex would be the curriculum designer and the damn professor. Every other kiss before this man was clearly child’s play.
“Damn, I missed you,” he mumbles in the crook of my neck after inhaling me.
I inhale his intoxicating scent too and damn near moan as I admit honestly, “I missed you too.”