Leah
Isat at the table, just feet from Rocko, and drank my Bahama Mama. He turned toward me with the coldest look in his eyes. The one that used to soften whenever I came around. Now it was just ice.
He was still as handsome as the last day that I had seen him.
He had a fresh lineup, his beard neatly trimmed, his skin was clear, and he was walking around shirtless, wearing only a pair of swimming trunks.
Around his neck was a single Cuban link.
A necklace that made me shift uncomfortably in my seat when I remembered the many times it had been on my back and my forehead.
Hell, even his tattoos looked fresh. Dark ink, clean lines, like everything about time had been good to this man.
I had imagined how the moment would go when we finally crossed paths, every day for the three years we hadn’t spoken.
I wanted to ask him if he missed me, to test whether he would still fold at my touch, even though he claimed to hate me and said he never wanted to see me again. I knew he never meant any of that shit.
As if she could sense my thoughts, his wife looked over at me and smiled.
I returned the gesture politely before turning toward my daughter, trying not to stare.
Bitch
I remember finding out that he was getting married.
My reaction was like Cleo on Set It Off when she was about to drive through the barrage of police officers.
All I was missing was a cigarette. Then she had the audacity to be drop-dead gorgeous.
Eris was stunning; there’s no denying that.
Their engagement announcement photos looked like that default family that they put in picture frames. I hated it.
I couldn’t help it. I played nice earlier, but I had no desire to be friendly with the woman lying next to my man and carrying his second child and first son.
Per his Instagram, they had already planned on naming him a Junior.
His namesake. The son who would likely follow in his footsteps and continue his legacy in sports and entrepreneurship. Disgusting.
I had only thrown out the fun fact that she asked me to do her baby shower to make him sweat. But when she asked, I declined, telling her that I was booked until fall. I wasn't about to put the same time and dedication I put into my events into making my husband's wife happy.
I’ve been saying for years that fate brought Rocko and me together. That night, so many things went wrong. Decorations were missing, vendors were late, and my last model didn’t show up. I wasn’t supposed to be in that box, but as soon as I laid eyes on Rocko, the world felt right again.
Now, as we sit on this cruise, I can’t help but feel like the universe has done it again because for years I have been clear across the world.
Just two weeks after our final blow-up, Coach Newman connected me with the coach of another team, and I flew to Georgia for an event. That's where I met Cardell.
Initially, I had no intention of dating. But I was in a full manic episode. My heartbreak was fresh, and I fully intended to go back to California and finish what he and I started. But when Cardell approached me, it was almost like I was looking at Rocko all over again.
If it hadn't been for that, I never would have accepted his offer to take me on a date. Things moved fast between Cardell and me, and we’ve been together since.
Cardell is a great man. He’s generous as hell, and attentive.
He treats me like a princess. I like him.
But make no mistake, I still feel like losing Rocko was me losing the greatest love I’ve ever known.
Rocko had this air about himself. It was dominant; it made me want to do as he said.
It made me want to be a different version of myself than I was used to.
It calmed my crazy and silenced the voices in my head that told me to take it to the max.
Cardell is none of that. He was damn near just as crazy as me. If I call him twenty times, he answers nineteen. If I get disrespectful, he doesn’t remind me to watch my mouth. Cardell can correct me, but he can’t handle me, and that’s a clear distinction.
I genuinely believe that if Cardell and I parted ways right now, I wouldn’t bat an eye.
I would drop Cardi off to him and his new partner on the weekends and get a nap without little fingers prying my eyes open.
I thought something was wrong with that.
But Daya told me this was normal. She told me that’s how normal people feel about relationships, and I was shook.
For once I didn’t feel an overwhelming intensity, and it concerned me.
“Mommy, I want some more.” My daughter jolted me out of memory lane.
I picked up the plate that I hadn’t touched and slid the noodles from my plate to hers.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Being a mother changed me in so many ways.
It made me calmer, more patient, and less reactive.
Not only do I owe Cardi Janelle the life she deserves, but I owe her mine too.
From the moment that I found out about her, I knew that I had to be the best version of myself to raise and protect her.
No man would matter to me more than her.
I chuckled at the way she fought with the noodles, twirling them on her fork.
At times, she reminds me a little of Rocko.
He could see the resemblance too. He questioned if she belonged to him.
I said no, but the truth was, I had no clue.
I found out I was pregnant after Cardell had already convinced me to stay in Georgia.
He and I had been tangled up for months before I finally realized I might be pregnant.
He was excited, so I figured sometimes it was just better to let sleeping dogs lie.
I’m not na?ve. The conception dates line up perfectly with when I was in Georgia, but we’ve never had a test. The delusional part of me likes to believe that I was left with the most beautiful reminder of the love that Rocko and I shared.
His first child. I know she’s likely Cardell’s, but seeing it on paper and confirming it will shatter my secret version of reality that lives rent-free in my mind and comforts me.
Then there is the part of me that is scared that if, by any chance, she’s Rocko’s, life as I know it will change very quickly.
Even with years of growth, I don’t see a world where I have front-row seats to watch him love anyone else peacefully.
I would be his worst nightmare and wind up right back at Mind over Matter.
Frankly, I have no desire to be the woman that I once was, thanks to my daughter and Kennedy. That woman has helped me so much, and I attribute a ton of my growth to her because I couldn’t have done this alone.
I know that when I tell her I am on a cruise with Rocko, she is going to lose her shit. She might even have them stop it to get me off.
I saw something move out of the corner of my eye and I turned my head toward it.
It was Eris, moving her chair so she could put her cankles in my man’s lap.
The longer I sat across from them, I felt like I was going to lose control.
I really didn’t want to have to call Kennedy, but the way my chest was tightening, it felt like that might be best.
This was no one’s fault but my own.
We were still in Georgia when Cardell was randomly traded to Santa Clara a couple of months ago.
I didn’t know it then, but we moved right into his neighborhood.
I was standing in the window watching Cardell and Cardi play softball when Rocko passed by in his newest toy.
He never saw me, but I often saw him coming and going.
I kept my distance as long as I could. I resisted the urge to swing by and get acquainted with my neighbors; I didn’t go to Cardell’s practices because I didn’t think I could handle seeing him.
But when I bumped into his wife in the clothing store, and she was on the phone giving someone her whole itinerary and yapping away about this cruise, I couldn’t help myself.
I felt like this was fate bringing us back together one more time.
I even picked up the same bathing suit that she had grabbed for her daughter for an extra razzle dazzle.
Kennedy would be so disappointed.
Cardell interrupted my thoughts and pulled me to him, raining kisses down my neck and collarbone. I turned to him and kissed him deeply before stepping out of his embrace.
“I’ll be back in a second. I need to make a call; my assistant is texting me in a panic.”
“Ignore that, Leah. Tell them you’re on vacation.”
“I know.” I kissed him once more. “I will.”
I hurried inside the boat and scrolled until I found Kennedy’s contact. The call wouldn’t go through, so I had to FaceTime audio her.
“Hey, Leah. Is everything okay?” She asked with concern in her voice.
She had been my psychologist for the better part of eight years. By now, she already knew that there would be moments when she had to reel me back in. She was used to my antics.
“Rocko is on the cruise.” I blurted out. I may have left out the fact that I was only here because I knew he would be here. But still.
The line was quiet.
“Do you hear me? I said Rocko is on this cruise!” I screamed.
“I do. I do. Are you okay?”
“I miss him,” I whined.
“Where is Cardell, Leah? Where is Cardi?” she asked.
“They’re eating on the deck.”
“Isn’t this the first day of the cruise? Do you think you can last until Sunday without doing something that undoes your progress?”
“I don’t know. Are you available until Sunday?”
She laughed.
“I can check on you daily, but that’s all. You have to use the tools we practiced. I’m not a crutch.”
There she goes with the clinical shit. I exhaled.
“Did you speak to him?”
“I did.”
“Whoa. How did it go?”
“He tried to pretend that he doesn’t love me and miss me as much as I do him.”
“LEAH!”
“I’m joking, I’m joking. Calm down. He wasn’t exactly happy to see me. It wasn’t the warm reunion I hoped for.” I laughed.
“What are you wearing?”
“Huh?”
“I asked, 'What are you wearing?” She doubled down.
Not her asking for fashion tips in the middle of my crisis. Was she trying to make sure I looked good? I didn’t know why it mattered, but I told her anyway.
“A yellow bikini with a pink and yellow cover-up, and some Dior sandals,” I said, frowning as I glanced down at my clothing like I had to be sure myself.
“Exactly. You’re on a boat, with nobody telling you that you can’t leave. Nobody decides what you can eat or drink. Remind yourself that you will not be in Dior but in a cell, naked, by sundown if you make another joke like that.” She shot back.
I laughed from my gut this time. She was strict. Always reminding me that even almost a decade later, this was not a safe space, and harassment wasn’t the joke I thought it was.
“You have got to lighten up. But what do I do?” I asked once I composed myself.
“You don’t let seeing someone throw away all the hard work that you’ve put in. You especially don’t let your daughter see you beside yourself. You’re not just doing it for you anymore.” She reminded me.
She was right.
I took a couple of deep breaths, and I peeled myself away from the wall I was leaning against.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jennings. You’re right. I won’t call you again… I won’t need to. I have the tools that I need to get through the weekend.”
For the next three days, I would steer clear of Rocko.
I wouldn’t speak to him or his wife. I wouldn’t bat my eyelashes and convince the man at guest services, who had been flirting with me and gave me a free drink package, that my name was Eris Sanders, and I’d locked myself out of my cabin.
No, that wouldn’t be the sane thing to do.
I was going to enjoy my family vacation before the first official game of the season. Then I was going to be in the stands every week, wearing black and red, like the perfect WAG cheering the Santa Clara Astros to the World Series.
I went back over to Cardell, who was throwing away our daughter’s plate.
“You got it handled?” He asked.
“Yep.” I smiled.
I extended my hand for Cardi to take, and then Cardell grabbed mine. We walked through the sea of people that had started to come to the upper deck and to one of the cabanas. When we passed the table that Rocko sat at, I could smell his cologne.
For now, I would let him breathe. But I couldn’t say what would happen when my mind told me he’d had enough air.
The End