Chapter 10 #3
“So, what’s up with you and the two bitches you fought?”
I groan.
“Ma, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Well, I do,” she says calmly. “So, I suggest you get to fucking talking.”
“Ma…”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Rhyan, you haven’t been back in the city long enough to be beefing with anyone.”
She leans closer.
“So where is this shit coming from?”
I told my momma everything that happened, leaving nothing out.
She listened quietly, shaking her head.
“Rhyan, you could’ve ignored those hoes.”
“I could have,” I admit. “But I didn’t. I know Chauncey isn’t a saint, but they overstepped their boundaries, and I wasn’t about to let that shit slide.”
My momma sighs.
“You know what type of nigga Chauncey is. He’s still up to his old tricks.”
She looks at me carefully.
“I know you love your husband, but love is not always enough.”
I stare down at the floor.
“I do love him, but I don’t think I’m in love with him anymore.”
“How many hoes are you going to fight behind him?”
Her tone is calm, but the words land hard.
“You should not be fighting any of them. What point are you trying to prove?”
“Ma, I’m not trying to prove anything,” I say. “These hoes know I’m Chauncey’s wife. I refuse to let them violate me.”
“Baby girl,” she says gently, “I’m not saying what you’re doing is wrong, but Chauncey needs to put some fucking respect on your name and this marriage.”
She leans closer.
“If you want this marriage, it’s time you fucking show this nigga. I’m tired of you going through the same shit with this nigga.”
“Ma…”
“Chauncey got lucky with you,” she continues. “If you were anything like me—” She smirks. “And I’m not saying you aren’t?—”
“That nigga will walk a straight fucking line.”
She taps my knee.
“Baby, you have got to show this nigga that he has to stop playing with your heart.”
“I will.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Are you listening, Rhyan? You don’t look like it.”
“I am.”
“Good,” she says. “If these bitches don’t physically touch you, ignore them.”
Her voice turns serious.
“You have way too much to lose to entertain this mess.”
She pauses.
“I’m getting my cash right because I want to buy a medical office space for you.”
I blink.
“What?”
“I have been considering opening an urgent care or pediatric facility.”
She nods.
“You’ve got to keep your hands clean.”
I sigh.
“I know. I’ve been thinking about my actions.”
“Good.”
Then she softens again.
“Rhyan, I know Chauncey still loves you.”
“Ma,” I say quietly, “I’ve been questioning his love lately.”
“And that’s okay, but baby, don’t lose yourself loving a nigga who may not be worthy of your love.”
My momma does not mind throwing her little shots. I get her, though.
“I’m trying really hard not to,” I whisper.
She nods.
“Listen, Rhyan… Chauncey’s life didn’t end because you left Teflon Hills.”
She shrugs.
“Your husband continued to do him.”
“All I’m saying is don’t stop living your life and being your authentic self just because he’s lying in a fucking hospital bed, hooked up to machines.”
Her voice softens again.
“We have made so much progress this past year.”
“I know.”
My momma and I finished talking. She finished washing and blow-drying my hair before giving me a fresh silk press.
She really did her thing tonight.
I almost feel like stepping out for a bit, but I decide to stay in. I’m meeting with my therapist tomorrow, and I’m honestly looking forward to the session.
My momma orders steak-and-shrimp pasta from The Winton’s Ranch.
That food was bussing.
I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I finished the whole plate.
After wrapping my hair, I crawl into bed. For the first time in a week, I’m lying in a real bed instead of a hospital chair. I stretch out on the mattress and scroll through social media on my phone.
Part of me still wants to step out tonight.
Then my phone buzzes.
A text message.
Potential-
I miss you, Rhyan. It’s been a minute since we last spoke or saw each other. Damn, I just wanna hold you and bury my face between yo legs.
I listened to his message but didn’t reply.
My mind is already overloaded, and I don’t feel like talking.
The truth is… I miss him so much.
God, I wish I were lying in his bed right now, wrapped up in his arms.
I guess he doesn’t like my little heart reaction to his text because seconds later my phone starts ringing.
I send the call directly to voicemail.
Then he calls again.
This time on FaceTime.
I stare at the screen for a moment. What does he want from me tonight?
I sigh and answer.
“Hey.”
“What’s up with you?” he asks.
“Not much.”
He squints at the screen.
“Rhyan… you can keep it a buck with me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you like my message but not respond?”
I rub my forehead.
“Because I’ve got a lot on my mind and don’t feel like talking.”
“So, you can’t talk to me?”
“Can you ease up for a minute?”
He leans back, shaking his head.
“I would ease up, but I’m trying to understand why you’re suddenly hiding from me.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m just going through a lot.”
He goes quiet for a moment.
“The shit you’re going through—why are you facing it alone?” he asks softly.
“I’m right here, Ma, always.”
I swear he always asks the right questions at the right time. It’s one of the reasons I like him.
“I just am,” I mumble.
“You don’t have to be.”
“I know.”
“If you know Rhyan, why are you shutting me out?”
“It’s not that, trust me.”
He exhales.
“It’s kind of hard to trust you.”
“Ease up.”
He stares at me through the screen.
“I want to see you,” he says finally. “I’m coming out there for a few days.”
Of course.
It’ll be just my luck if the day he decides to come out here. Chauncey will wake his ass up. One of the reasons I wanted to go home for a few days was to see him. This nigga right here is my peace.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“It just isn’t.”
If Chauncey already has eyes on me in Dallas, I know that stepping out publicly with Kosh would start problems I’m not ready for.
Chauncey’s name carries weight in this city.
Everyone knows I’m his wife.
I’m not scared to step out with another nigga.
But the drama that would follow?
I’m not ready for that.
“You never told me the real reason you’re there,” he says.
He knows why I’m here; he just wants me to say it aloud.
“I didn’t.”
“So, tell me.”
“Ease up; you’re overstepping.”
He tilts his head.
“It must have something to do with your ex, huh?”
We both know the answer.
“Yep.”
His jaw tightens.
“So, you back with this nigga?” he asks bluntly. “Is this why you’re avoiding me and can’t answer certain fucking questions?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s complicated.”
He shakes his head.
“Bet… I’m coming out there for a few days to make sure you’re straight.”
“I told you that’s not a good idea.”
“Aye, Rhyan,” he says softly. “You can’t keep hiding from a nigga forever.” His voice softens.
“I just want to hold yo pretty ass.”
I laugh under my breath.
“I’m not hiding from you. Trust me. I want you to hold me.”
“Then I’m on my way,” he says. “I’ll hit you up when I land.”
“You don’t have to come.”
“I do.”
He shrugs.
“If you’re not with your husband, you ain’t got shit to worry about. I can hold my own.”
“What did I say?”
“I heard you,” he says calmly. “But hear me, too.”
His tone becomes serious.
“You ain’t moving right, Rhyan.”
He leans closer to the camera.
“We’ve been fucking around long enough to be honest with each other. We don’t have any strings attached; keep that shit a buck with a nigga.”
He pauses.
“I want a title, though, but I’m moving at your pace,” he adds. “So, tell me why you don’t want me to come.”
My stomach flips.
“I already told you it’s complicated,” I say gently. “I don’t want you caught up in my shit.”
He laughs softly.
“Rhyan, I’m willing to risk it all for you.”
My chest tightens.
“I don’t give a fuck about stepping into bloody territory,” he continues. “I know what your title is.”
He pauses.
“I want what that nigga had.”
Silence hangs between us.
“I don’t want to make this complicated. I just want to see you, Rhyan, to make sure you’re okay.”
His voice drops.