Chapter 13
What To Do?
It had been a few days since I saw and talked to Gio, and I can’t lie, I was going through it at my momma's house in ways I never thought I would.
I was a mix of emotions. I missed him, I hated him, I loved him.
I hurt. I cried when I saw something that reminded me of him and cussed when I saw something that reminded me of what he did.
And when I didn’t have the energy to do any of that, I just smoked and drank to keep me from doing that other shit to the point where my parents started to question if I was really okay.
One night after my mama cooked dinner, I went out on the back patio to smoke with my glass of wine. I was looking up at the stars, saying a lil’ prayer when my momma came out and sat with me.
“So… He cheated, huh?” she flat out asked.
I shot my head over to her.
“How did you know?”
She smirked. “By the way you are acting.”
I nodded. I knew I had been crashing out.
“For three years he was messing with somebody else. I talked to him, and he said it wasn’t like that, but—”
“But it still hurt,” she said, cutting me off.
I looked at her and nodded. She reached over and rubbed my arm. “I know, baby. I know it hurt. And it’s okay to hurt. But you gotta remember, you can’t let the hurt he did to you control how you move. You still have a life to live.”
“I know,” I said, voice cracking. “But it’s like every time I think about him and everything we’ve been through, I get stuck.
I never wanted to walk away from him, but what he did behind my back…
While I was home cooking dinner, counting money, and washing his clothes, waiting for him.
He was with somebody else, and really it wasn’t behind my back, he told me. ”
Her eyes softened. “I get it, Islah. But crying, drinking, and smoking is not going to fix it. You gotta find a better way to heal your heart, even if he’s still in it.”
I stared at her, taking it all in. “I don’t even know if I can. I swear I’ve been feeling like I can’t breathe without the nigga. I know I still love him.”
Ma nodded. “Then use that, baby, don’t let it destroy you.
If you decide to wait for Gio, cool. If you decide to move on with your life and find a man who will give you what you wanted Gio to, that’s fine too.
But whatever you decide to do, use whatever you are feeling on the inside to strengthen you.
You will be okay, you will figure it out, and baby, you are never alone. ”
I let out a shaky breath, stood up, and hugged my momma. I needed to hear every bit of that.
The next day, I tried to focus on myself. I walked around LA, grabbed myself some lunch, ate it on the beach as I looked for apartments, and filled out job applications. Trying to act like I was happy building a new life without Gio in it.
Every now and then, my phone would ring. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know who it was.
I didn’t answer it, though. I told myself to be strong and fight the urge to pick up, even though I was battling with wanting to know if he was okay.
I carried on with my day even though it was a lil’ hard. I spent some money and even got a call back from one of the places I had just applied to for an interview.
Even though I was full of mixed emotions, I felt good about the call and the interview. A job was going to put me in the right direction, even though my heart wanted something else.
I spent the whole day at the beach, just about. Enjoying the weather and relaxing to the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. People were laughing, kids were running around with ice cream, a few couples lay out on the towels like it was perfect.
I watched them for a minute and smirked as I thought about Gio and me.
The beach used to bring us peace. He would watch me dip my toes in the water, and I would watch him smoke and not think. I pushed the thought out of my head and stood up, brushing the sand off my legs. I wasn’t trying to have LA haunt me with memories of that man.
By the time I got back to my parents’ house, the sun was going down.
I kicked my shoes off by the door and went into the kitchen to pour myself some wine before going to take a shower and changing into an oversized shirt.
As I laid across the bed, sipping and scrolling, my phone froze, and a call came through.
Gio, once again.
My chest tightened immediately.
I let it ring until it stopped, and I let out the breath I was holding until it rang again.
I rolled my eyes and flipped the phone over on the bed like that was gonna stop my heart from trying to beat out of my chest.
It stopped, then he called again. I knew the nigga wasn’t gonna give up.
I sighed, grabbing the phone and staring at his name for a long second before answering.
“What, Gio?” I said flat.
There was a slight pause before he spoke.
“Damn, girl, you really tryna leave me.”
Just hearing his voice made something in my chest loosen up, a bunch of feelings that I had kinda just gone away. I hated that.
“What do you want, Gio?”
He chuckled low. “You, I want you, and what you mean by what I want? I can’t check on my girl now? That’s crazy.”
“I’m not your girl,” I said quickly, reminding him of what he already knew.
“You are right; you are my wife.”
I sucked my teeth, trying not to blush even though he couldn’t see me.
“Boy, stop playin’ with me.”
“You know I’m serious, my luv,” he said calmly. “We’re just at a lil’ bump in the road right now.”
I leaned back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling.
“You got a lot of nerve to say that.”
“What?” he asked. “You acting like you don’t know me and how I feel about you—how I always felt about you, even when a nigga tryin’ to keep it P, you still know.”
I shook my head.
“You keepin’ it pressure or player?”
He let out a lil’ laugh. He already knew where I was going with it.
“Come on, baby girl, don’t start.”
“Don’t start?” I said, sitting up in bed. “Gio, do you understand what you did to me?”
“Do you understand that the shit was never like that?” he asked, his tone shifted and was a lil’ rougher.
“That’s not the point, Gio—”
“It is the point,” he shot back. “You’re acting like I had a whole relationship behind your back. It was never that.”
“But you crossed me, you fucked up the trust I had in you.”
There was a pause on the line. I could hear him breathing.
“Iight,” he said after a second. “And I told you why I did it. I ain’t ever duck that.”
“So why are you acting like I’m crazy for leaving?”
“Because you are,” he responded without hesitation.
My eyebrows pulled together.
“Nigga, do you hear yourself right now?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said calmly. “You’re talking about throwing everything we have built over some shit that didn’t mean shit to me.
“It meant something to me.”
“And you mean everything to me,” he said quickly. “More than that bird bitch ever did. Shit, you even said that I could have been set up. It could have been her hating ass. Last time I told you I was seeing T, I told that bitch I was done using her and ran off with her shit.”
I sat there quiet for a second, taking in what he said, seeing where he was coming from and how I could be wrong about everything.
I then looked at my suitcase on the floor and how I was at my parents’ house and shook my head.
“No, Gio, you’re not getting it—”
“Nah,” he said, cutting me off. “You’re the one not getting it, talking about a nigga broke your trust. I cracked that bitch, everything I was doing was for you—for us.”
I shook my head. “Don’t try to minimize this, Gio.”
“I’m not trying to minimize anything, baby girl, I’m being real with you. If what we had was weak, then yeah, it would have broken. But me and you? Lil’ shit is not supposed to break us.”
I leaned back against the headboard with a slight smirk on my face.
“You talkin’ real confident for a nigga that got left.”
He chuckled low.
“You ain’t leavin’ me, baby. If you were, you wouldn’t be on the phone with me now, with that lil’ grin on your face.”
I tried to hide it, but he knew me.
“You have the right to need to cool off, but it’s been days, and I miss you. Do whatever you need to do to clear your head, forgive me, and know that I’m the only nigga for you.”
I let out a slow breath through my nose.
“That’s crazy,” I muttered.
“What is?”
“The way you talk,” I said, “like you run shit.” I shook my head. “You are really something else, Gio.”
“And you love every bit of me,” he said smoothly.
“That is not the point; the point is that I’m done. You did that shit for three years, you will do it again.”
He was quiet for a second.
“I can promise you, Islah, that shit will never happen again.”
I took a second to think. His tone had changed, softer. But I needed to stand on business.
“Gio, I loved you with everything in me. I have been a mix of emotions. I never thought you would be the one to hurt me.”
“Let me fix it then,” he shot back.
“Nigga, no gifts is going to fix this. Can’t you see that you really hurt me? You’re just thinking about yourself; we are done, Gio.”
“No, the fuck we are not, Islah!” he said, raising his voice.
I could hear the hurt in his voice that he was trying to hide.
“Gio, I can show you better than I can tell you.”
I heard him say something, then the line went silent, and I heard him chuckle.
“You trying to test my gangsta, Islah?” he asked.
I didn’t respond.
“Test my gangsta if you want, Islah. You gonna see part of me that you never thought would be directed to you. Leave me if you want, leave me while I’m in this cage if you want, but don’t be mad when you get a nigga killed for thinking shit was sweet with you.”
I sucked my teeth.
“Gio—”
“Nah, baby,” he said, cutting in. “You don’t need to say shit else. I got you, and I will be seeing you soon. I love you, Islah.”
The line went dead. I stared at the phone for a second. Gio never hung up first.
I tossed the phone on the bed and laid back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling fan. My chest felt tight, like all the air in the room had been sucked out.
I tried to convince myself that I was still ten toes down behind my plan and that the conversation with Gio didn’t mean anything—that I was done.
But when my phone lit up about ten seconds later, it made my heart drop straight to my stomach.
Not a call, but a text from Gio.
I stared at the number for a minute before opening it, then I did.
Gio: Our story is not done. You can be mad at me all you want, but you will be my wife.
I stared at the message, my chest tightening again. The bad thing about Gio wasn’t how toxic the nigga could be; it was because our bond was so tight that he knew it would be a fight for me to leave.
But I was, and for me to prove to him that I was serious, I needed to have my shit together before he got out, whenever the hell that would be.