11. LaMia Sellers #4
I doctored my face as much as I could, but it was difficult because I couldn’t stop crying. I was depressed, confused, and heartsick. I didn’t know what my next move was, and that was foreign to me.
For the past few years, I’d always had a man or someone to take care of me, and now I was essentially broke, homeless, and nigga-less.
Even worse, the man I craved seemed to be unreachable at this point.
I had a small sliver of hope that his love for me out-rivaled whatever it was he felt for Daylin.
“I appreciate this,” I said once Daylin returned with a cute ice bag, outreaching it to me.
Placing it to my lip, I followed after her and into the den where I saw she had two steaming cups of tea. Descending onto the couch, I broke down, unable to hold it in any longer.
“Calm down, LaMia.” Daylin’s voice was dry but still held concern.
“I know you’re the wrong person to tell this to, but I regret my life,” I blubbered.
“I have never stopped loving Rakim and hate that I left him for Ayan. But at the same time, I cannot seem to let the life I built with Ayan go. We have kids, we have a whole life, more of a life than what I constructed with Rah.”
As I spoke, Daylin watched me, and surprisingly, I didn’t see any jealousy or judgment in her eyes.
Her energy tonight was more so beneficent than anything, and that was unexpected.
I thought she would be enraged at the mention of me loving Rakim and my regrets of ending what we had, but she felt . . . bad for me?
I was, nonetheless, grateful because after witnessing how she knocked Tarin’s tooth out—not an easy feat—I wanted no parts of an altercation with the girl.
“I see,” was all she said, taking a sip of her tea.
“I just want him to get some help because we have kids, and we can make it work,” I continued, beside myself. She noticed, making me drink the tea that I could only hope wasn’t poisoned. But as crestfallen as I felt, I didn’t even care.
“You need to leave for the sake of yourself and your kids, LaMia. A man who will abuse you will always abuse you. I don’t care how much therapy he gets—even if it’s shock therapy—a man who was put here to protect you would never harm you no matter how angry he is.
You waiting for him to change is you waiting for him to take your children’s mother away,” she expressed.
I bobbed my head as I took down another gulp of the warm and perfectly sweetened tea. Daylin was a good woman, and instead of that making me feel good, it made me dislike her even more. I wanted to feel better than her, making it an obvious choice for Rakim.
Bothered by my own thoughts, I shrugged, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “Since we are offering helpful advice, Daylin, Rah will always love me. No one will ever take my place in his heart, so I don’t suggest you getting too attached to him.”
Shaking her head with a humorless giggle, she latched her eyes onto mine and replied, “You are too old to be this dumb and misguided, LaMia.
Rakim is a good man, and you think you can take advantage of that, but he is also a very wise man and very hard to get over on.
Yet, you are too stupid to realize that.
“Rakim didn’t speak to Ayan because he loves you or even cares about you.
He did it because that’s what real niggas do.
They don’t sit by and watch the next nigga hit on women or kids or do other fuck shit.
The day you realize you are the only one attached in the situation with you and Rakim is the day you can start making some progress on your healing.
But let me remind you, babe, Rakim is gone.
He’s unavailable, he’s off the table, and will never belong to you or any other bitch out there.
That’s mine, and I wanna thank you for letting him go.
It’s the only reason I gave you that ice and tea.
It’s the least I can do for you sending such a fine ass, perfect ass man back to the streets. ”
I couldn’t lie; my blood was boiling, and it made me wish I knew how to fight.
Standing, I said, “You may think he has no feelings for me, but he does.”
“Rakim kills when you hurt something he cares about, and yet, Ayan is still very much alive.”
I didn’t have a rebuttal, because she was right. Judd was in the ground because of that exact reasoning.
“I—”
“I’ve been nice enough, but it’s time for you to leave.
” She waved me toward the exit of the den.
As soon as I was over the threshold and on the other side of the door, she said, “Only reason I didn’t beat your ass on sight is because of your face.
Then again, your body looks fine.” Before I could ask for clarification, she kicked me in the stomach hard as hell, causing me to bunch up and fall on my ass before she slammed the door in my face.
I sat on the concrete porch, hacking for dear life and feeling as if I’d been donkey kicked in the midsection. Crazy ho.
Tonight, had quite possibly been one of the worst nights of my life, second to Rakim murdering Judd.