Chapter Twelve
Twelve
“See, what you not gon’ do...”
Von
I open the front door as Gia climbs the steps. Her usual cheery and loud demeanor is missing, replaced by a subdued frown. Well, the cheery and loud stopped when Aaliyah stopped being her nanny two weeks ago. And though she’s talked on the phone with Aaliyah several times, the frown has become customary on my baby girl’s face. And for that I feel like I’ve more than disappointed her; I’ve failed her. Because if I’d used my brain instead of my dick, Aaliyah would be here. That’s on me.
Falling for Aaliyah...that’s on me, too.
“Hey, baby girl.” I step out onto the porch. Guilt swarms in my chest but so do love and joy at having her back home. “Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yes.” She hugs me then asks, “Is Aaliyah back yet, Daddy?”
I swallow down a tired sigh. “No, baby. Remember we’ve talked about this. She’s not working for us anymore.”
Her shoulders droop like the weight of the world is pressing on them. And maybe for a seven-year-old it is. And that weight is the bullshit that belongs to the adults in that world.
“I remember, I was just hoping she came back. I’ve been praying that she will, but God’s moving so slow.”
In spite of the heaviness we both seem to bear, I softly laugh. “Well you know what Grammy’s always saying. He doesn’t come when you want Him but...”
“He’s right on time,” Gia finishes. “I just wish I knew what time He was coming,” she adds with a pout.
I hold back my bark of laughter, remove my phone from my pocket and pass it to her. “How ’bout you give her a call and see what she’s doing?”
That suggestion gets me a little smile, and she takes the phone. “Okay.”
I hold the door open for her, and she slides past me, her head already bent over the cell. I catch movement in my peripheral, and instead of following her inside the house, I glance over my shoulder. And frown.
Deliberately schooling my face so it doesn’t betray my anger and disgust, I call out to Gia. “Hey, G, I’ll be right in. I’ma talk to your mom real quick. Go ahead and get started on any homework you have after you get off the phone.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she replies, her voice coming from deep inside the house.
Still, not wanting her to accidently overhear anything that’s said between me and Sheree, I close the storm door and descend the short flight of steps to meet a smiling Sheree.
“Hey, Von. I’m surprised to see you here this time of day.”
Her voice is pleasant enough, but I’m not buying it. And I’m not having this fucking conversation, either. I haven’t hired anyone to replace Aaliyah yet, though I could’ve easily called the nanny agency again. I just can’t bring myself to do it. And with Sheree’s custody hearing still in the works, I’ve been home more. Not just to strengthen the case, but because these last few weeks have felt like I’m in a mental countdown. If her custody hearing goes left for me, I need to have as many stored-up memories with Gia as I can get.
But I’m not telling her none of this shit.
“What’re you doing here?” I cross my arms. “The agreement was your mother is supposed to be dropping Gia off from now on.”
I’d taken Ronald’s advice and arranged for an intermediary who would handle the custody exchanges. It didn’t used to be like this. Sheree and I could at least deal with each other for this part of the divorce. But now, that shit is dead.
Sheree shrugs, that smile still curving her mouth. “I told Mom I’d handle it today since I wanted to talk to you. This is silly, Von. We can handle pick-ups and drop-offs like adults.”
“Nah, we can’t. I’on trust you like that if we keeping it a buck.”
Oddly, she winces as if my honesty hurt her. Then again, I’ve come to learn Sheree is a fantastic actress. I give her a slow clap in my head.
“You make it sound like I’m standing here recording our conversation,” she mutters.
I just arch my eyebrow because hell no, I don’t put it past her. “What do you want, Sheree? And make it fast so I can get back in the house.”
“I just want us to be civil. For Gia’s sake.”
That’s got me seeing red. Gritting my teeth, I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing the rage to recede. At least enough so I can form words.
“Did you really just say ‘for Gia’s sake’?” I laugh, shaking my head at this silly bitch. “Sheree, get outta here with that. Sweetheart, ain’t none of the moves you’ve been making lately been for Gia’s sake. You don’t put her first when you run me down on the phone with your thot-ass sister so G can overhear. You don’t put her first when you come up to my shop starting shit. You for damn sure didn’t put her first when you filed this custody modification. Everything’s been about you. Don’t stand here thinking you gon’ play in my face.”
She glances away from me, but I see the ticking of a muscle at her jaw and wait for the hate that’s about to come out of her mouth. If Sheree knows how to do anything, it’s defend her indefensible actions.
“Gia told me that woman isn’t her nanny anymore,” she calmly says, returning her gaze to me.
“Not your business.”
“It is,” she insists, shifting forward. It takes everything in me not to warn her to put one hundred feet between us at all times. “That’s the point. You didn’t consult me on who was watching over my daughter. Why do I have to hear about everything from her? You are responsible for telling me.”
I cock my head, scrutinizing her, and chuckle when I see she really means that shit.
“Let me ask you this. Do you call and inform me of who you leave Gia with when you go clubbing? No, you don’t,” I answer for her. “And I don’t trip because though you’re a trash-ass wife, I considered you a good mother and trusted your judgment, confident you wouldn’t leave G with anyone who would harm or neglect her. After being married to me and knowing me for all these years, you should know the same thing about me. I hired a person who cared for G and loved her like her own. If you’d get out your bag for two seconds, you’d admit that, especially since your daughter can’t stop talking about her. But you don’t give a fuck about none of that. You went on some control trip knowing you ain’t got any. You don’t run what goes over here in my house.”
Doesn’t she, though?
Aaliyah isn’t here anymore.
And while Sheree no longer has any say in what goes on at my house, she’s still for damn sure running my feelings, getting in my head. Dictating my actions and reactions. For the last couple of years, everything that happened with Sheree has colored my interactions with people, not just women.
Everything that had gone down with Aaliyah, hearing her father call another man her fiancé... I’d reacted based off my past with Sheree. How she’d lied to me. Betrayed me. Fucking used me. Had Aaliyah should’ve told me about her engagement? Hell yeah. But I also could’ve allowed her to explain, off the strength of our relationship. Off the strength of who we’d become to one another.
After being married to me and knowing me for all these years, you should know the same thing about me .
My accusation against Sheree bites me in the ass, and shame fills me. What I expected, I hadn’t offered Aaliyah the same grace. And now it’d been two weeks—two miserable-ass weeks—without her.
Once, I’d accused her of being a runner.
I had it wrong.
I’m the runner.
Running away from my feelings for her despite my resolve to not get emotionally involved.
Running away from the hurt and the risk of future betrayal.
Running away from myself.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I blindly stare at a point over Sheree’s head. You’d think I’d eaten enough crow since Aaliyah had come into my life. Apparently, I had one more serving to shove down my throat.
“Von, I’ll drop the custody modification,” Sheree softly says, drawing my attention back to her.
I study her then bark out a laugh. “What you want me to say, Sheree? Thank you? Nah, shawty. I’m not thanking you for that when you should’ve never filed in the first place. You don’t get credit for doing something you should’ve been done. Especially when we both know the reason you did it.”
Aaliyah.
Her jealousy over her assumption that we were fucking.
She hadn’t been wrong, but again, not her business.
“You used Gia as a pawn to press your fucked-up agenda, not sitting your ass down to even think about how it would affect her. How it would devastate her. You’ve had weeks to reconsider and do what was right. But because of a woman who was never a threat to you— because you’re not my wife anymore —you decided getting back at me was more important than your daughter’s well-being and security. You were ready to rock her world to the fucking foundation for that bullshit.”
“Von, I—” She thrusts her fingers through her hair, pulling the straightened strands back and away from her face. Blowing out a breath, she says, “You’re right. About everything. I guess since our separation and divorce I haven’t seen you with anyone, so I tripped and acted out of emotion. Hearing Gia go on and on about that woman and then seeing how you looked at her and acted all protective even though she was just supposed to be the nanny had me feeling some kinda way. I’m sorry. I...” She exhales again, and her hazel eyes soften, a plea in them. “I just want my family back. I fucked up. Fucked up bad. I wish you would forgive me, that we could get past it and make our family work again. I didn’t treat it or your love like they were everything to me, but they are. I can’t begin to list all of my regrets, but the top of the list is losing you.”
Part of me wants to laugh in her face. But I can’t. One, I’m tired of fucking fighting with her. And two, for the first time in years, I glimpse a peek of the woman I once loved. And I can’t throw her vulnerability back into her face. I can be a muthafucka, but I’m not intentionally cruel.
“Sheree, for one, I been forgiven you. But there ain’t no going back. Our divorce isn’t one hundred percent on you. Though how you decided to handle it, with a four-year-long affair, was fucked up, your reasons were valid. I did work a lot. Everything I did to get you, I stopped doing to keep you. I get that you were lonely, and yeah, some of that’s on me. But lying to me, giving another man that part of you that you promised only to me? Being irresponsible and letting him run up in you raw, saying fuck me and the consequences? Yeah, I got G out of that, but nah, shawty. We can’t go back. I could never trust you again. We both got to live with the consequences of our actions, but we don’t have to be miserable as hell doing it. This back-and-forth shit—” I wave a hand between us “—is only hurting G. We can’t give her a mother and father living together under one roof, but we can give her co-parents who at least don’t hate each other.”
Sheree lowers her head, and she doesn’t say anything for several long seconds. “I don’t have any choice but to accept it.”
When she lifts her head again, tears swim in her eyes, and I’d like to say they move me. But they don’t. Maybe one day I can get to the point where I don’t feel anything but a polite fondness when it comes to her. But today ain’t that day. All the shit she’s put me through is too close.
“I meant what I said about dropping the modification. Both of them.”
I nod. Still not going to thank her.
“You should know I’m going after Aaliyah. If I have my way, she’ll be a fixture in my and Gia’s life. You probably need to know that before you talk about dropping the filings.”
Sheree’s threats, the stranglehold she had on me, ended today. Even if after hearing my intentions, she decides to let the modifications ride, I’m not changing my mind. She’s not going to dictate my moves any longer.
I am through letting my past control me.
Pain spasms across her face as does anger. But finally, she dips her head. “I hear you. And I’m still withdrawing them. For Gia.”
This time, I don’t contradict her or remind her how fucked up her actions have been. Maybe even a small part of me is proud of her for finally owning her grown-woman shit.
“Aight. I gotta get back in the house. I’ll have Gia call you later before bedtime.”
“Okay. And, Von?” I stop mid-turn and glance over my shoulder at her. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too, shawty. I’m sorry for anything I did in the past to hurt you. All that’s in the rearview now. See you.”
Heading back for the house, I don’t wait around for her to drive off. I meant it when I said it was behind me. And except for her being Gia’s mother, so was she.
My main focus now is Aaliyah.
Seeing her. Talking to her.
Getting her back here. Because at some point during my conversation with Sheree, I had to be honest with myself. I...I’ve fallen in love with Aaliyah. Even if she’s engaged and ol’ boy is really her fiancé, there has to be some reason she didn’t tell me. Now I’m willing to listen, like I should’ve that night. I know Aaliyah. And she isn’t Sheree. If she kept it from me, it wasn’t on no snake shit. I trust her. I love her. And the house, my life—my and Gia’s lives—aren’t the same without her here.
Ironic as hell it took talking to my ex-wife to get that revelation. Or to allow it in. Because deep down, I knew it all along. Fear kept me from accepting it.
But like I just told Sheree, all that’s behind me.
Ahead of me is Aaliyah.
Besides, if I don’t do something, Gia might take drastic measures. I’m not saying she’d run away to go find Aaliyah. But I am saying baby girl’s book bag been a little heavier these past couple of weeks.
I better go get our Aaliyah and bring her back where she belongs.
With us.