15. Renza Mensah #3
The truth sat between us after that, and I knew I couldn’t keep standin’ in the hallway actin’ like we was just two people who used to know each other.
There was too much history in her face for that.
It was too much unsaid shit, too many messages I ain’t answer and too many wrong turns that neither one of us had the energy to dress up tonight.
“You wanna step outside for a minute?” I asked.
Reni studied me for a second, then nodded. “Yeah.”
I turned, and she walked next towards me while we made our way through the crowd. I kept enough space between us that it ain’t look like we was together, but close enough that nobody tried to cut her off from me.
When we got outside, the noise from the club dulled behind the doors, and the warm night air hit my face. Folks was spread out along the walkway, smokin’, talkin’, waitin’ on rides and actin’ like they wasn’t tryna see who was leavin’ with who.
We moved down a lil’ further from the entrance until we had room to talk without everybody bein’ in our mouth.
Reni folded her arms over herself and looked toward the street. “So what you wanna talk about?”
I looked at her for a second before answerin’. “Us. How shit ended.”
Her eyes came back to mine, and I saw that hit her. She swallowed, then looked away again. “That’s a lot to talk about outside a club.”
“I know,” I said. “But I ain’t know when I was gon’ see you again, and I ain’t wanna act like I ain’t owe you an apology.”
Reni got quiet. I rubbed my hand over my mouth and gave myself a second so I ain’t say the wrong shit.
This wasn’t the type of apology a nigga could rush through just to clear his own mind.
I had done enough of that in my life. I said sorry ‘cause I wanted the tension gone, said it ‘cause I wanted a woman to stop cryin’ or ‘cause I wanted to get back to what felt good.
This time, I knew the apology had to sit where the hurt was.
“I’m sorry for how shit ended with us,” I told her. “For real. I know I ain’t handle everything right, and I know me not answerin’ when you was textin’ made it worse.”
Reni’s eyes stayed on the street, but I could see her hands tighten on her arms. “You could’ve said somethin’.”
“I know.”
“You let me sit with what you did by myself.”
I nodded ‘cause she was right. “I did.”
She looked at me then, and her eyes had too much in ’em for me to brush past. “That shit hurt, Renza.”
“I know it did,” I said. “And the shit with me tellin’ another woman somethin’ that belonged to you was wrong. I ain’t say it to hurt you, but it hurt you anyway, and that’s on me. I should’ve never put ya business in nobody else’s mouth.”
Reni looked down fast, and I watched her blink a few times. She ain’t cry, but she was close enough for me to know she hated that I could see it. I stayed quiet and let her have that second ‘cause I ain’t have no right to rush her through feelin’ somethin’ I helped put there.
When she looked back up, she forced a smile that ain’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate you sayin’ that.”
“I mean it.”
“I know,” she said soft. “That’s the crazy part. I know when you mean somethin’.”
I looked at her, and for a second, all that old history came and stood between us like a third person.
Reni had been in my life before shit got as deep as they did somewhere else.
We had our own kind of pull, our own fights and our own reasons why shit never stayed good for long.
I had cared about her. I had tried with her in the ways I knew how at the time, and I knew some of what broke between us had my fingerprints on it.
Reni took a breath and wiped under one eye with the side of her finger before any tear could fall. Then she lifted her chin like she was pullin’ herself back together. “You can make it up to me by buyin’ me another drink.”
I looked at her for a second, and I knew that sentence was carryin’ more than it said. It was a door, but it wasn’t wide open. It was just cracked enough for both of us to decide if we was gon’ be stupid with it.
“A’ight,” I said.
We went back inside, and the music swallowed us again. I bought Reni another drink at the bar, and when Mecca walked up, she looked between us for a second before her eyes settled on me.
She had been around enough back when me and Reni was dealin’ with each other to know when a moment carried more than the room needed to hear.
She ain’t ask no questions though. She just hugged Reni from the side, told the bartender she wanted the same thing, and kept her face cool while her eyes said she was peepin’ everything.
A lil’ while later, we all ended up back in the section with Blaq and my other potna. Blaq looked from me to Reni, then back to me, but he ain’t say nothin’. He just moved over enough for them to sit.
The rest of the night passed with everybody talkin’ around us. Reni laugh a couple times even though I could tell she wasn’t all the way in the room. I ain’t push her, and I ain’t sit too close either. We talked here and there, but it stayed simple with drinks, music and a people we knew.
Still, I could feel the difference between tonight and the last time we had been in a club around each other.
Back then, everything had been messier. Lines had been blurred, and feelin’s had been bruised.
Tonight, I sat here with a cup in my hand and watched Reni talk to Mecca, and I knew she was still beautiful.
I knew she still had love for me somewhere in them green eyes.
I knew there was a time when that look would’ve been enough for me to lean in and let the night carry us wherever it wanted.
But I ain’t feel that same pull in my hands.
I ain’t feel the need to grab her thigh, whisper in her ear, or make plans with my eyes before we even stood up. That ain’t mean I ain’t care about her. It just meant I cared enough to stop treatin’ our history like a place I could run back to whenever my present had me fucked up.
When the club lights came on and the music changed, everybody started movin’ toward the exit.
Reni had a lil’ buzz on her by then. It wasn’t sloppy, but was enough that her eyes was softer and her steps was a lil’ slower beside Mecca.
We walked out with the crowd, and the night air felt better than the club had.
People was laughin’, callin’ rides, arguin’ about after-hours, and tryna stretch the night past where it needed to end.
Outside, Mecca walked a few steps ahead to answer her phone, and Reni ended up next to me near the curb. She looked up at me, and I already knew what was comin’ before she said it. It was the same question that had hung between us before.
“What you doin’ after this?” she asked.