Bless
BLESS
Monique and I were having lunch at the bar in Buffalo Wild Wings. I had expected for things to be awkward between us at work, but when we coincidentally walked into the office together that morning, Monique was her usual self, chatting away as if nothing had happened.
As we munched on our wings and sipped on Long Islands, I finally asked the question that had been gnawing at me. “So, have you talked to JayShawn?”
Monique rolled her eyes. Instantly, her expression hardened. “He’s been calling all weekend, but I ignored him. I’m done with that nigga.”
Anger caused my heart rate to accelerate. While JayShawn had been calling my sister all weekend, he had been calling Monique as well. But I kept that to myself, not wanting to make lunch awkward. Instead, I nodded and took another sip of my drink.
Monique sighed, clearly frustrated. “I feel so stupid for falling for his lies. He wasted my fucking time. I’ll never talk to him again.”
My phone buzzed on the bar, and I glanced at the screen to see another text from Raja. “I knew you were still in love with that nigga,” it read. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the growing irritation. Another message followed right afterward: “Why did you waste my time, bitch? I want all of the money back that I spent on you, using-ass bitch.”
His calls had started that morning. But when I never answered them, he started to send threatening text messages. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to respond as I blocked his number.
As Monique continued talking, I found it hard to focus. Thoughts of the night I had spent with Legacy interrupted every attempt to participate in the conversation. The memories of our intimacy were breathtaking and orgasmic, leaving me in a daze.
“, you heard me?” Monique’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I blinked and forced a smile. “Yeah. Sorry… I’m just... distracted.”
Monique frowned. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been off all day.”
I sighed, swirling the ice in my glass. “It’s Legacy. Being with him again... it brought up a lot.”
Monique’s eyes widened. “Wait. You and Legacy?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “We spent the night together.”
“ Whaaat ?” Monique shockingly sang. “You should have led with that! You been holding on to that hot-ass tea all day?!” I giggled guiltily as she asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”
I looked down at my plate, conflicting emotions swirling inside me. “It was amazing . But I don’t know. The fear is paralyzing. He’s been doing so good. He’s sober. His business is thriving. I’m just scared he’ll slip back into addiction, and I can’t go through that again. The PTSD from our past won’t let me fully digest his confession that he still loves me—”
Monique’s dramatic gasp interrupted me. “He said he still loves you?”
I smiled, the memory giving me a warm embrace. “Yeah.”
“That’s what you were waiting on, girl! Why do you look so… conflicted and nervous.”
“Because I’m scared, girl!” I shrieked, making her laugh. “I’m scared to give that nigga my heart again. It hasn’t even fully healed from the first time he broke it.”
I sighed, feeling like a hypocrite. Legacy had done his damage. But I had unquestionably broken his heart as well. He just didn’t know it yet.
Monique gave me a sympathetic pout. “I understand. Take it one step at a time. Don’t rush yourself into anything. You need to do what’s best for you and the kids. But maybe you should consider the fact that your heart won’t fully heal until you allow the person who broke it to fix it.”
As I neared my grandmother's house to pick up the kids after work, I noticed a commotion on the busy corner of 95th and Jeffery. My heart sank when I saw Pam in the middle of a heated confrontation with a familiar fiend that frequently roamed the area. Groaning, I reluctantly pulled over and got out of my car.
Pam and the woman were scuffling and yelling at each other, drawing a crowd of onlookers who were laughing, instigating, and recording the scene with their phones.
I ran up to them, screaming, "Aye, stop! What’s going on?!”
The woman, her face red with anger, pointed at my mother, trying to catch her breath, as I separated them. "This crazy bitch sold me fake crack! I want my money back!"
I turned to Pam, who was swaying unsteadily, her eyes glassy and unfocused. "Why the fuck would you do that?"
Pam shrugged, a sloppy grin on her face. “NaNa wouldn’t give me any money for my drank," she slurred.
The woman lunged at Pam again, but I quickly stepped between them. "Whoa, hold up! She’s a drunk bitch, but I can’t let you whoop her ass."
Pam, clearly inebriated out of her mind, started laughing and taunting the woman. "Exactly, bitch! My daughter will beat cho’ ass!"
That gave the fiend Mighty-Morphin-Power-Ranger strength. She charged forward, her shoulder bumping into mine so hard that she almost knocked me over.
"Shut up, Pam!" I snapped, jumping between them again.
"I want my damn money back, bitch!” the fiend snapped.
"All right, all right," I said, digging into my pocket. "I'll give you your money back. Just chill out."
Pam, meanwhile, was doing a drunken dance, swaying side to side, her arms flailing. "She ain't gon’ do shit! She ain’t gon’ do shit! If she do, she goin’ to jail ‘cause I calls the police. Police! Police!"
"Pam, please stop," I growled, embarrassment rising in me.
The fiend tried to get around me again, but I blocked her path. "Stay out of this, drunk bitch!" she yelled at Pam.
"Who you callin' a drunk bitch, crack head?!" Pam retorted, stumbling over her words and almost falling over.
"How much does she owe you?" I asked the fiend.
"Fifty bucks," she replied, still glaring at Pam.
I quickly counted the cash and handed it to her. "There, it’s done. You got your money."
The woman counted the bills as well. Satisfied, she finally backed off. "You better keep her away from me," she warned before walking away, still muttering under her breath.
I sighed with relief, but when I looked up, Pam was gone. "Pam?" I called, looking around the busy corner frantically. “Pam!”
The crowd started to disperse, still laughing and talking about the spectacle they had just witnessed. I scanned the area, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.
"Crazy-ass bitch," I muttered under my breath.
As I got back into my car, I continuously shook my head at the absurdity of it all. It was like living in a real-life sitcom, only not nearly as funny when you were the main character dealing with all the drama.