Chapter 24
Navy Achebe
Wine in a glass, cuddled in my hand, slipped down my throat like punishment, meant to dull the ache in my heart and seal the cracks of my broken soul, but it didn't. It magnified them.
It turned every splinter sharp, and every break louder.
Still, I continued to drink, swallow after swallow, pour after pour, hoping by the time the love of my life walks through those doors, I'll be numb enough not to feel him.
"Are you gonna be okay by yourself?" Honey asked.
We'd been sitting in this living room for over three hours, not talking and barely breathing, with just wine.
I sipped.
She poured.
"You could've left if you have somewhere else to be."
The soft, pleasant voice everyone loved was gone. My words came out dry, flat, and unattached. Like I was here but a million miles away.
"I don't have anywhere to be. I'm just worried—"
"Don't be," I snapped, then sipped. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You still have her blood on you, Navy."
"So?"
I shrugged, lifting the glass until I caught my reflection. Choyce's blood was still, in fact, smeared across my face. What was once bright red had dried into deep crimson spots. Against my skin, it looked wrong, like it didn't belong, and I didn't care.
"Maybe I should call Honor. I don't mind staying, but I don't know how to help you with this."
I lowered the glass and looked at Honey. She was beautiful, and the fear in her eyes softened her features, making her vulnerable. It made her glow in a way pain does for people who aren't carrying it.
"I'm not yours to help," I mumbled, my lips finding the rim again. "And Honor's already on his way. I texted him."
"Then what am I supposed to do, Navy?"
"The same thing I'm doing," I answered her quietly. "Nothing."
"I can't just do nothing. You're spiraling."
"Spiraling is someone acting erratically," I told her. "I'm calm."
Honey hesitated.
"What you said to Choyce… it has to be eating at you. When's the last time you talked about it?"
"Never."
"Why not?"
A low, venomous laugh slipped out of me.
"Who was I supposed to tell? Crown? Wolfe?" I shook my head. "They wouldn't understand."
"Honor!" Honey snapped. "It should've been Honor."
"It should've been," I agreed. "We've been together for most of my life, and maybe a month ago was the first time he ever mentioned wanting to get me pregnant."
I took another sip and let the bitterness sit heavy on my tongue.
"It wasn't romantic. It didn't come after vows or promises or love spoken out loud. He said it out of anger, mad that I didn't want to run with him, mad about Crown, mad about me possibly slipping out of his hold."
My grip tightened on the glass.
"He fucked me into submission. Told me…" I stopped, remembering every word.
"I want your body carrying the best part of me. Walking around full of my seed. Body marked by it."
A dry, brittle chuckle escaped me as I bounced my leg.
"And my stupid ass ate it up."
"You aren’t stupid. You're just a woman in love. That's a beautiful thing."
I glanced at Honey with sympathetic eyes. It was clear she couldn't see the depth of what I said because, in her mind, I had what she wanted. Over the years, it became easy to spot women who saw your relationship as goals or something they yearned for.
"What glitters isn't always gold," I muttered, tucking my feet under my butt.
"That's true, but I don't think you should throw away decades because of Choyce."
"Is that what you think I'm doing? Throwing away my relationship? I couldn't throw this relationship away if I wanted to. There's no life for me that doesn't consist of Honor being in it. He's all I know, and I'm all he knows. The only way I'll ever be without him is if he—"
I choked on the word.
"I get it," Honey whispered.
"Do you? Because what Honor and I have isn't just love. It's deeper than that. Our souls are intertwined to the point that I feel him. On my skin…" Closing my eyes, I envisioned Honor lining my shoulder with kisses. My body shivered as I felt his teeth pierce my flesh.
"I feel him, Honey," I drawled. "Everywhere…
on my skin, in my breath, in the way my body reacts before my mind does.
I feel his happiness because I learned how to feed it.
I feel his anger because I learned how to carry it.
And when he's vulnerable, it's me who reminds him he's worth everything the world told him he wasn't."
I let out a quiet, humorless breath.
"That man is a part of me just as much as I'm a part of him.
I know it's not healthy. I know it sounds like obsession dressed up as love, but it's the truth.
They say women come from a man's rib, but they never say what part of the woman the man takes in return.
Honor took something from me that I didn't realize was missing until today.
He claimed it, Honey. He claimed me, and I let him.
Because some broken part of me wanted to belong to someone in every way possible, even the ways that cost me myself. "
Staring at me with wide eyes, I knew Honey was hanging on to my every word.
"What did he take?" she asked.
"My sense of—"
The door beeped, announcing it had been opened. I looked at Honey and shook my head. Honor's heavy footsteps filled the space as he moved from the foyer into our living room.
"Navy."
My name fell from his lips crisp with worry. My stomach went against me, fluttering as I watched emotions collide across his face. His eyes swirled, his steps brought him closer until he was kneeling in front of me, his hands cradling my face.
"What fucking happened?" he demanded. "Whose blood is that?"
Honor was holding me so tight. I could feel the heat coming off him.
"I need to walk Honey to the door," I murmured, gently peeling his hands away from my face.
Honor stood up and glanced behind him.
"Hey." Honey waved.
"What happened?" he gritted in her direction.
"I'll tell you after I walk her to the door," I firmly stated.
I moved around Honor, grabbed the wine bottle from the end table, and walked Honey out.
"Are you gonna be okay?" she asked, tears glistening in her eyes.
"I'll be fine." I softly smiled. "Text me when you get home."
"Okay. I love you, Navy."
"Love you too, Honey."
We hugged, then Honey left, and I closed the door. Before going back toward the livingroom, I lifted the wine bottle to my lips.
I didn't want to feel his presence. I didn't want to crave his touch. I didn't want to love how soft his voice got for me. I wanted to be empty. I wanted to be numb so his affection would taste as bitter as this wine.
"Navy, tell me something." His voice was raspy as usual. Honor rarely spoke to me with aggression. The outlier in his tone was a hint of panic.
"I will. Let's go sit in the living room."
As I passed Honor, I handed the wine bottle to him, pressing it into his chest. His fingers brushed mine as he grabbed it, and my stupid heart stuttered.
I entered the living room and chose to sit on the round chaise lounge instead of the couch.
If we were going to talk, then I had to make sure Honor couldn't invade my space.
I didn't want comforting hugs or kisses that whispered, "It'll be alright.
" For once, I wanted to live in the uncomfortableness and the uncertainty of our fate. We both needed to.
"Navy I—"
"I went to see your bitch today," I started. My eyes didn't roam the well put-together living room. I didn't glance at his handsome face. I kept my focus on the wine glass across from me, imagining that it was a mirror, and my words were creating the reflection of my relationship.
"What bitch?" he questioned.
"Choyce."
"That's not my—"
"She's your bitch because she has a thing for you. It's not nearly as intense as what I feel for you, but it has the potential to get there. If you let it."
"I don't know what everyone else sees when it comes to that girl, that I don't, but I'ma make myself clear because I'm tired of repeating this shit. I don't want Choyce."
"Whether or not you want her doesn't matter because this isn't about that."
"Then what is this about?"
"Today, I stepped outside of myself. I went to a place I promised myself I wouldn't go back to. Choyce and I got into it. She was being snarky and sarcastic, but her assumptions about me were right. I was acting on insecurities. I wanted to talk and find out what was going on between you two—"
"Nothing," Honor barked, cutting me off. "I don't want that fucking girl."
"I heard you the first time," I told him flatly. "I forced her into a chair. Honey, behind her with a gun. Me, in front, straddling her lap and toying with a knife. Then I told her one of my biggest secrets while lightly cutting along the curve of her throat."
My eyes snapped toward Honor. He seemed normal. His breathing pattern was even, eyes blank, and face expressionless.
"I didn't kill her. Just wounded her so she'll know who not to play with the next time she's around you."
"What was the secret?" he asked solemnly.
"Before I tell you, I think it's important that I tell you a story first."
He nodded.
I continued.
"Lucian never looked at me as a prodigy.
I was a girl, and girls weren't meant to carry on their father's legacy.
I don't remember much because, for the most part, I blocked out my childhood before you came into my life.
I do remember him pushing Talon hard to be more like him.
Then you came, and he started punishing Talon for not being more like him… more like you."
Honor didn't move or blink. He was eerily still. I fled his blank stare and focused on the wine bottle resting on his thigh. My fingers itched to hug it. My lips quivered wanting to taste the bittersweet liquid.
"Pass me the bottle, Honor." It came out softer than I wanted, but a part of me was ashamed that I couldn't get through this, that I couldn't stand up for my feelings without it.
"Navy, I don't think—"