Chapter 27 #2
Cayla looked up. Her eyes were still soft from everything we’d talked about.
“Yeah, you did have a bag coming in.”
She leaned off me and looked toward the door. Surely enough, the black liquor store bag was right beside her entryway closet.
“Yeah,” I said as I walked over to the bag, “I came prepared. But somebody got me all emotional before I could even pull it out.”
She laughed, and this time, it was a real one. The kind that started in her chest and filled the room.
“Boy, go get the glasses,” she said while smiling.
“Nah.” I grinned while holding one of the bottles up. “You get them. I already brought the wine, remember?”
She gave me a playful eyeroll but pushed herself up off the couch anyway while mumbling, “Always gotta make me do the work.”
I took notice of how her ass jiggled with the little brat stomp she did while walking over to the kitchen.
“Don’t forget some ice, too, mama.”
When she came back, she had a bowl of ice and two mismatched glasses. One was an actual wine glass, and the other looked like a mason jar. I didn’t even comment because it was perfect in its own way. After dumping some ice into both glasses, I poured us both a drink and raised mine.
“To new carpet, working cable, and emotional growth.”
She snorted mid-sip. “You’re so stupid,” she said while grinning as she clinked her glass against mine.
We fell into an easy rhythm after that, which consisted of sipping, laughing, and making sarcastic comments at the television like we were part of the show.
Every time Olivia Benson popped up with that serious look, Cayla mimicked the voice of the opening saying, ‘In the criminal justice system…’ and it had me nearly spitting my drink out.
After a while, she tucked her legs under her again and leaned into the couch with a loose comfort that wasn’t there earlier.
The more she laughed, the more I saw her, not the woman weighed down by what Orion did, but the version of her I remembered from high school.
The one with the quick wit and magnetic smile.
At one point, she turned her head toward me and smiled, showing off those damn dimples.
“You know, I forgot how easy it is to talk to you.”
I smiled while swirling the wine in my glass.
“That’s because you used to avoid me back then.”
“I did not.”
“Yeah, you did. You had that box head ass Lamont. That football-player boyfriend who everyone wanted, remember? And I was just the friend who helped you with your history homework.”
“I mean… You were kinda too quiet back then.”
“Quiet doesn’t mean I wasn’t like that, and it damn sure doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching,” I said with a smirk. “I noticed everything.”
That made her pause, and her eyes lingered on me a little longer before she looked back at the television.
The air between us shifted. The vibe had transformed to something different that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
The episode played on, but I don’t think either of us was really watching anymore.
We were just… there. We were just two people finally breathing again and finding comfort in something that didn’t feel complicated.
And as she laughed at another scene and refilled her glass, I thought that healing each other looked exactly like this.
Although I strayed away from serious relationships, I still knew how to treat a woman. Nana had taught me the game.
And before her, my mother would give me little tips on how to be the perfect gentleman.
These strong single women raised me in the ideal light to cater to a woman.
I was a man with my own everything, who had no problem protecting and providing.
It was just that over the years, I had come across women who would try to take advantage of the qualities I tried to offer.
Or better yet, they had a negativity around that would try to dim my light.
Cayla was different, though. I could tell she was deserving of everything I came with.
I just hoped she realized she was as well.
Cayla
By the time we got to the second bottle, the edge I’d been carrying all day was finally gone.
The wine was warm in my chest, and the load I had been carrying on my shoulders seemed lighter.
Kassidy was sitting closer now; his shoulder brushed mine every time he leaned forward to joke about the show.
I could smell his cologne. It was the way it lingered around my nostrils.
Not too much, but just enough. He was quietly watching the television and making small talk with me during commercials.
I couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he was.
His strong jawline flexed when a tense part of SVU came on, and when something funny happened, he showed his straight teeth, all of them. I laughed at something he said, but it came out quieter than I meant it to. My heart was beating too fast for a simple laugh.
“See,” he said while grinning, “you always think I’m playing, but I know how to make you smile.”
I met his eyes, and for a moment, neither of us looked away.
The TV was still talking in the background, but it might as well have been silent.
Something about the way he looked at me made me feel…
seen. Not just looked at, but seen. I felt like he saw all of me and everything I came with.
He noticed my soft edges, my curves, all the things I’d learned to hide from myself.
I broke eye contact. Our hands touched as we both reached for the bottle.
He pulled his back as if he had touched something hot.
I couldn’t help but blush while I picked it up off the coffee table.
“You want more?” I asked.
“Only if you do,” he said with a low voice as he stared into my eyes.
I poured just a little more into both of our glasses.
I was trying to focus on the sound of the wine hitting the glass instead of the pulse in my ears.
My head was light, but my thoughts were clear…
clearer than they’d been in months. When I looked up, his eyes were still on me.
Not in a way that made me self-conscious, but in that he wanted me in a kind of way.
That was the moment I realized I didn’t want to sit in that living room anymore and pretend I wasn’t feeling what I was feeling.
I wanted him back. So, I smiled, stood up, and stretched a little to buy myself a moment.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
He nodded as he watched me with that same quiet intensity.
As I walked down the short hallway to my room, I could still hear the low hum of Law & Order playing and the faint clink of his glass being set down.
Tonight, I didn’t feel like the woman who’d been left behind or betrayed.
I felt like a woman who still had something to offer.
And as I closed my bedroom door behind me, a slow smile crept across my face.
I stood in front of my long dresser, staring at the drawer I hadn’t opened since before Oriana was born.
The one where I’d tucked away all the things that made me feel good once.
My sexy drawer had lace, silk, and soft colors that used to remind me I was more than just somebody’s mother.
The buzz from the wine had me feeling unlike myself.
Matter fact, fuck that, it had me feeling like the old me.
My heartbeat was steady but heavy, and my palms were sweating like I was back in college, about to walk across the stage.
I took a breath and opened the drawer. That’s when a memory hit me.
Orion ruined moments like this. I remembered that night so clearly.
It was the one time I had worked up the nerve to do something special for him.
I’d bought this black lace lingerie online.
The pussy part was cut out, and it had knee-high lace stockings with buckles attached.
It came with a long, black robe that fell just off my shoulders.
I’d spent the whole afternoon getting ready.
My hair was in tight curls, and I did a light beat of makeup on my face.
When he walked in, I’d been standing by the bed, trying my best to look confident.
He looked at me… and laughed. Not the kind of laugh that came from surprise or joy, but the kind that cut straight through my confidence. And at the end of his laughter, he just had to say something slick.
“Girl, where are you going dressed like that? You look like Sheila from Why Did I Get Married?”
Then he continued to laugh while he looked at me before walking off and leaving the room. That laugh had stayed with me. It lived in my head rent-free, and whenever I had little moments of feeling beautiful again, it ran on repeat.
I blinked the memory away, swallowing the lump in my throat.
But Kassidy wasn’t Orion. I knew that. Everything about him was different.
It was the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, and even the way he made space for me without asking me to shrink first. In this short time of us reconnecting, he was feeding my spirit, and I fucking needed it.
Still, part of me was terrified. I looked down at myself and got lost in my image.
What looked back at me was the soft rolls, the stretch marks, and the pieces of me that told stories I’d once been ashamed to tell.
Yet, when I closed my eyes, I could still hear Kassidy’s voice from earlier, low and sure.
“You always think I’m playing, but I know how to make you smile. ”
That man hadn’t laughed once at me. He only laughed with me.
I huffed out shakily because this would take whatever we had started to the next level.
To the next heights. My walking out of this room would be crossing a line that I was so scared to cross.
And only because I was terrified of getting hurt again.
I looked in the mirror that was attached to my long dresser and gave myself a tiny pep talk.
You deserve this man, bitch. You deserve this moment.
With those two sentences, I had given myself all the confidence I needed to proceed.
So, I pulled out the deep burgundy lace one-piece lingerie that I’d never worn before.
It was simple, but it hugged me in all the right places.
I ran my fingers over the fabric, took another breath, and reminded myself that I deserved to feel good again.
By the time I looked into the full-body mirror in my room, my hands were still trembling, but the woman looking back at me didn’t look broken anymore.
She looked ready to stop hiding. I adjusted the strap on my shoulder, gave my reflection a small, brave smile, and whispered to myself.
“He’s not Orion.”
And with that, I turned toward the door. I was ready to walk back out there and let someone’s son treat me right. When I opened the bedroom door, my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.
The television was still playing, and the soft light from the screen flickered across the room.
Kassidy was leaning back on the couch with one arm draped over the back and the glass of wine in his other hand.
He looked up when he heard the door. And for a second, he didn’t move.
I shifted my weight to one leg nervously as I waited for the laughter to erupt.
His eyes landed on me. I could tell he was taking his time getting the image.
His eyes darted from one part of my body to the other.
They saw every curve and every inch of skin I’d always tried to hide.
My throat went dry. I almost turned around and ran back to the safety of my bedroom, but then he put his glass down and stood up.
“Cayla.” He said my name like it was something sacred.
I could feel my face heat up.
“I—I wasn’t sure if this was too much,” I admitted while fidgeting with the strap of the lace top.
He shook his head slowly while stepping closer.
“Nah. It’s just enough.”
There was no judgment in his eyes, no laughter, and no trace of pity. He bit his bottom lip and then let a smile come across his face before speaking.
“You look beautiful.”
I laughed softly as my nerves slipped through the words.
“You sure that wine didn’t get to you?”
He smiled, closing the distance between us until we were just a breath apart.
“The wine didn’t do that. You did.”
Something in me loosened right then. I didn’t need to be anyone else around him.
I didn’t need to suck my stomach in or hide my thighs or pretend to be smaller.
Kassidy saw me exactly as I was. And for the first time since I had put on all this weight, that felt like enough.
I touched his shoulder, and then I traveled down his arm and stopped once my hand filled the inside of his palm.
He squeezed my hand, and it wasn’t a tight hold either.
It was firm and just enough to say you’re safe here.
As I looked into his brown eyes, I fucking believed it.