10. Renza Mensah #2
I put the phone down, went to my bag and pulled out more weed.
I sat on the edge of the bed, rolled up and lit it before leanin’ back against the headboard.
The towel sat low on my waist, the room was dark except for a lamp near the window and smoke curled in front of me while I looked at nothin’ and thought about everything.
The houses came back to my mind first…
I had really been out here lookin’ at houses for that damn woman.
Not just any house either. I was lookin’ for shit that made sense for us.
I wanted somethin’ away from too much noise but still close enough to everybody.
I wanted space for her to breathe. I could see myself comin’ home from bein’ out all day and findin’ her in some sexy shit, talkin’ shit about how I took too long.
I could see her cookin’ for me. Then I could see myself eatin’ her too, right there on the counter if she gave me too much of that smart ass mouth.
I blew smoke out slow and shook my head ‘cause even mad, my mind still went there with her ass, and that was the problem.
Sha’Nelle wasn’t just some woman I liked fuckin’.
She was in the quiet parts of what I wanted, but she was in the ugly parts too.
I could see us arguin’ in that same house.
I could see her standin’ there with that sharp ass mouth and them hands movin’ ‘cause she couldn’t fuss without her whole body gettin’ involved.
I could see myself lettin’ her talk until I got tired of hearin’ it, then pullin’ her close enough to make her forget whatever point she was tryna prove.
We would fight. We would make up. We would probably tear each other nerves up, but it still looked like mine when I pictured it.
That was what had me fucked up…
I had pictured a ring on her finger… my ring…
Not that other nigga ring... but mine. I had pictured her walkin’ toward me while my family watched, and not standin’ in front of his family with all them other muthafuckas clappin’ behind some choice she made ‘cause she ain’t know how to say no.
In my head, she was walkin’ toward me on purpose, lookin’ at me like she knew exactly who she belonged with.
I could see the blue diamond on her finger. I could see her lookin’ at it every few minutes ‘cause she liked pretty shit even when she tried to act like she wasn’t moved by it.
I would’ve paid every bill in that house without thinkin’ twice; Mortgage, lights, cars, insurance, hair, nails, clothes and whatever else the fuck she wanted. All I wanted from her was to be there, look pretty, spend my money and stop runnin’ from me every time shit got real.
Then my mind went somewhere I ain’t like admitin’ out loud…
I thought about her pregnant…
I ain’t even know if I could see myself bein’ nobody damn daddy for real.
Kids ain’t scare me, but fatherhood was different.
That was a whole life dependin’ on you not to fuck it up, and I knew what kinda darkness lived in me.
Still, when it came to ‘Nelle, my mind would slip and show me shit I ain’t asked to see, like her belly round under my hand, her attitude worse ‘cause she was carryin’ my baby, her layin’ in bed mad at me about somethin’ small while I rubbed on her and told her she was doin’ too fuckin’ much.
I thought about me talkin’ to the baby through her stomach while she rolled her eyes and acted like she ain’t love it.
It sounded crazy even in my head, but that was where she had me.
I hated her for that…
I hated that she had me thinkin’ about life like that and then said yes to another nigga.
I hated that she had me ready to build somethin’ solid when she was still standin’ with one foot in Greystone.
I hated that I could be sittin’ in a hotel room mad enough to not answer her calls, and my heart was still actin’ like it wanted me to go home.
I hated that my body remembered her better than my pride did.
The phone started ringin’ again…
I looked at it and watched another number pop up. My thumb hovered near the screen for half a second, and that alone made me mad. I reached for the phone, powered the bitch off and tossed it on the bed next to me.
I needed silence and not from the world, but from her. I needed a minute where she couldn’t pull on me through a screen, ‘cause every call felt like her fingers diggin’ into a wound I was tryna keep covered.
I leaned my head back against the headboard and kept smokin’.
The room was quiet now, and without the phone ringin’, my thoughts got louder.
I told myself I hated Sha’Nelle. I convinced myself she was selfish, and she enjoyed this shit in some twisted way ‘cause ain’t no way she could have me this deep, know how I felt, know how far I had been willin’ to go and still let another nigga claim her life.
I told myself she ain’t deserve another second of my attention.
Then I thought about her cryin’ on Pressure steps, and my chest tightened in a way that made me stare at the ceilin’ like I was sick of myself.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I was tired, and not regular tired either.
I was tired to the fuckin’ gristle. I was tired of wantin’ her, tired of missin’ her, tired of bein’ mad and tired of her name still soundin’ good in my head after everything.
I wanted to shut all that shit off and sleep, but Sha’Nelle had never made nothin’ easy for me.
Even gone, she was in the room. Even blocked, she was in my phone.
Even with me tellin’ everybody I ain’t wanna talk to her, some part of me was still listenin’ for her.
I shifted under the towel, and that was when I felt my nuts swellin’.
I looked down at my dick pressin’ hard against the towel, and for a second, I just stared at it like it was disloyal as fuck.
The head was pushin’ against the cloth, thick enough to tent the towel, and I gripped it with a low hiss slippin’ through my teeth.
My hand tightened around the print, feelin’ how hard I was, and I shook my head ‘cause that shit ain’t make no sense.
“You fuckin’ serious?” I said, lookin’ down at my dick.
I shook my head, dragged a hand over my face and let out a long breath.
I wasn’t finna sit in this room and beat my dick to a woman who had me this fucked up.
I wasn’t finna give her that too. I put the blunt out, slid down in the bed and turned on my side with the towel still loose around my waist.
I closed my eyes and tried to force my mind away from her, but even in the dark, Sha’Nelle was still here.
It was her mouth, her eyes, her voice, her tears and her walkin’ around this island lookin’ for me like she had finally realized what it felt like to be the one reachin’ with both hands and catchin’ nothin’.
I hated that I loved her…
The next day…
By the time I was up and movin’ around the room, Pressure and ‘Lo was knockin’ on the door. I had texted Pressure the hotel and room number this mornin’ cause I knew that nigga was gon’ wanna come see about me.
I opened the door with the towel still low on my waist. Pressure stood there with a duffel bag in his hand.
‘Lo was next to him with shades on, a blunt tucked behind his ear and that lazy look on his face like he had already decided he wasn’t finna do too much talkin’ in the hallway.
Pressure looked me over, then lifted the bag a lil’.
“Brought you some clothes and all that other pretty nigga shit you use,” he said with a smirk while walkin’ past me into the room.
Kay’Lo followed behind Pressure and glanced around the room, but he ain’t say shit. He just took the chair by the window, stretched his legs out and rested his arms back like he was gettin’ comfortable. Pressure sat the duffel on the bed, then looked at me for a second.
I looked at the bag, then at him. “Appreciate it.”
He nodded once, and Kay’Lo pulled his phone out but ain’t really do shit with it. He just held it in his hand while the room stayed quiet for a minute.
I grabbed the bag and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m finna get myself together.”
“A’ight,” Pressure said.
Kay’Lo looked up at me. “Take yo’ time, nigga.”
I ain’t take long. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and rubbed some grease into my waves before brushin’ my hair down.
Pressure had packed my brush, my cologne, my face wash, drawers, socks and a few outfits like he had went through my bathroom and closet with Pluto standin’ somewhere nearby tellin’ him what I would need. It was crazy, but she knew me just as much as that nigga did.
When I walked back in the room with just my briefs on, Pressure and ‘Lo was sittin’ there quiet.
I fixed the band on my briefs, then slid on some dark pants and a black shirt. I pushed my feet into a pair of black designer kicks, sprayed on my cologne, slipped on my watch and grabbed my keys off the dresser.
“Where y’all tryna eat?” I asked. “And not Pressure spot. We done ran through that menu too many damn times.”
Pressure stood from the bed and fixed his shirt. “Bitch, you ain’t gotta eat at my shit.”
I nodded. “Good. I’m tryna be somewhere by the water.”
Kay’Lo pushed up from the chair and nodded. “That’s cool. “I’ll send the spot.”
We left the hotel in separate cars, and I was glad for that ‘cause I needed the ride by myself. My phone was back on now ‘cause I needed it, but I had it flipped over in the cup holder while I drove.
The restaurant Kay’Lo picked sat close to the water, tucked behind glass, palm trees and too much damn money.
The hostess led us to a private table right by the water, and by the time we sat down, a server was already movin’ like she knew what it was.
She asked what we wanted to drink, and Pressure ordered a bottle of Clase Azul Ultra like he was askin’ for water.
Kay’Lo added some aged rum then told her to bring three glasses and a bucket of ice.