16. Bless
CHAPTER 16
BLESS
I dragged myself into the house, physically drained. I had gone to class and worked a full shift after staying up with Zara, who had vomited all night. I was exhausted.
After being a stay-at-home mom since Eden was born, I had to get a job six months ago because Legacy's addiction had reached its peak. It was the last thing I wanted to do. It had already been difficult to raise the kids and focus on my studies. It had been especially difficult as of late since I had been studying for finals and preparing for graduation. But Legacy had given up. He now only hustled enough to feed his addiction. After taking a psychology course as a pre-req, I realized that Legacy had been suffering from depression since Ri's murder. I had been trying to convince him to get some help, to see a therapist, get some medication, and go to rehab, but those options made him feel weak and even more of a failure. Instead, he'd opted to act as if he was in control of his addiction, that he could stop anytime, that he was only numbing the pain. But slowly, our lives had fallen apart because of his addiction. Bills were barely being paid. He had little interest in anyone or anything, unless he was high.
The thought of leaving him gave me relief I hadn't felt in a long time, even if it was just a thought. But his addiction had never erased how obsessed and connected I was to him. So, though the thought gave me relief, it made me feel worse than my reality.
I entered the house as Legacy was rushing towards the door. My heart broke when I saw him. He was a shadow of the large, strong, confident man he used to be. His once muscular frame now looked gaunt, and his eyes, once so full of life, were hollow and empty. But I wasn’t angry. My heart went out to him because I knew he was suffering. He had never truly mourned his sister because of his guilt and because he had lost his mother too when Ri was murdered.
Closing the space between us, he hurriedly grabbed the back of my head and kissed my forehead. “Where are you going?” I asked him.
“I’m on my way to pick up the kids from daycare,” he rushed.
I glanced at my phone that was in my hand to double-check the time. “Legacy, the daycare is closing soon. You’re going to be late.”
“I won’t be late if you let me leave.” My head tilted in response to his snide reply. He took a deep breath, and then hesitantly asked, “Can you give me some gas money?”
My anger flared, causing my expression to fold into irritation. “Why don’t you have any money, Legacy?”
His eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “C’mon. Don’t start, baby. I just need a few dollars. You don’t want me to be late, right?”
I let out a loud groan of frustration. The sight of the man before me filled me with disgust. This wasn’t the Legacy I knew. The man standing there was a shadow of his former self, weak and feeble. It broke my heart to even look at him. His once vibrant, dominant, and confident spirit had been replaced by hollow emptiness.
My frustration boiled over. “You just need a few dollars?! Do you hear yourself?! You sound like my mother! You’re destroying yourself! And you’re not just hurting yourself; you’re hurting all of us. The kids, me… We can’t keep living like this! You are a fucking addict, Legacy.”
He glared at me, his fists clenching at his sides. “I got this. It don’t have me.”
I bellowed a laugh. “Oh, it fucking has you! It owns you! You’ve been avoiding it and denying it for years, and its only getting worse! You need help, and until you admit that, nothing’s going to change.”
His face twisted in anger. “Fuck this.”
He moved towards the door.
“Legacy!” I snapped at his audacity.
But he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I stood there, my chest heaving with emotion, tears welling up in my eyes.
The enormity of everything crashed down on me, and I broke down into uncontrollable sobs. I couldn't breathe, each gasp for air feeling like a knife in my chest. My world was crumbling around me, and I felt utterly helpless. The pain, the frustration, the exhaustion—it all poured out of me in waves, and I collapsed onto the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. The tears flowed freely, blurring my vision and soaking my cheeks, and all I could do was cry, feeling like I was drowning.
After Legacy stormed out, I waited until I heard his car drive off before I left the house. I was too overwhelmed, tired, and frustrated to be anybody's mother at that moment. Though Legacy had let his addiction take over his life, one thing he never let falter was how good of a father he was. So, I knew the kids would be okay with him for a while. In fact, as long as he had the kids, I knew he would at least be sober.
I needed to escape, so I went to the hole in the wall in our neighborhood. It was Thirsty Thursday, and even though it was early in the evening, the bar was already packed with patrons taking advantage of happy hour. I walked in, wishing that I looked as happy as everyone else. But I was wearing an expression of despair and confusion, coupled with my disheveled work clothes.
To make myself feel better, I took a page out of Legacy's book and numbed my storm of emotions with alcohol. As I sat at the bar, nursing my third drink, I felt so torn. On one hand, I was devoted to loving Legacy through sickness and health. But remaining by his side was destroying me. Like metastatic cancer, his addiction was spreading throughout our family, tainting the kids and me.
Sitting at the bar, stewing and throwing back shots, I was relieved at how free I felt. For so long I had been pouring so much into my kids and Legacy that I hadn’t poured into myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been out without the kids.
I downed another shot, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through my veins, dulling the sharp edges of my pain. I started to sway to the music, allowing the temporary escape to take me away.
I was lost in my thoughts when a masculine scent covered me. I looked up and found myself staring into the captivating eyes of Mazi, the attractive, dope boy cloaked in swag that I’d met a year ago. Though I had blocked his number, how fine he was made him hard to forget.
He gave me a taunting, charming smirk as he started to recognize me. "I know you," he said, with a smooth baritone timbre that demanded my attention.
My commitment to Legacy pushed me to pretend as if I didn’t know him. I raised an inquisitive brow. “Do I know you?”
He watched me for a few seconds before it dawned on him. "We met a while ago.” His eyes widened as it continued to click. “I met you at the gas station on South Shore. We exchanged numbers. I called you a few times, but you never answered."
It amazed me how easy my genuine smile was. Just being there, having a refreshing, unproblematic conversation caused me to relax and admit, "Yeah, I remember you."
His smile widened, and he leaned closer. "Can I sit down and have a drink with you?"
I looked at him for a moment, my loyalty nagging me. But I needed the distraction. I needed to feel something other than the constant pain and stress.
I gestured to the empty seat next to me. “Sure.”
Mazi ordered round after round. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of normalcy. We talked about everything and nothing, and as the night went on, I found myself laughing and forgetting, if only for a moment, the turmoil waiting for me back home. But deep down, I knew this escape was temporary. The real world would come crashing back in soon enough.
And it did .
I allowed myself to enjoy the moment, to bask in the easy company of someone who wasn't tied to my pain and heartbreak. I allowed myself to have too much fun and got way too drunk with Mazi. He had to help me leave the bar because I could barely walk straight. My vision was blurred, and the world around me felt like it was spinning. As we stumbled out, Mazi guided me to my car, which was parked in the lot on the side of the bar. His arm around my waist was the only thing keeping me from collapsing.
"You sure you're okay to drive home?" he asked as we walked to the driver’s side.
Even though I was wasted, I felt like I could make the two-minute drive home safely. I tried to sound more coherent than I felt, but I ended up slurring, "Yeah, I'm fine.”
Mazi reached past me, his eyes flirtatiously roaming my body as he opened my door.
I could feel his gaze lingering on me, making my skin prickle. But before I could break eye contact and climb in, he grabbed my face and kissed me. I didn't want to, but I didn't say no. I was too drunk to say no.
His hands started to roam my body, traveling up my shirt and cupping my ass. It was strange to have someone else touching me, but it also felt good. Lately, I had been too upset to enjoy the intimacy between me and Legacy. Making love to him felt like a chore in recent times, so the touch of another person felt soothing in my drunken state.
"Mazi, wait," I mumbled, my words barely making sense even to me.
"Shh," he whispered with his lips still against mine. His hands moved with familiarity that made me uncomfortable, yet I didn't push him away.
My mind was a mess of conflicting emotions. I didn't want Mazi touching me, but my drunken mind was telling me that I needed it. I leaned against the car for support, trying to find some clarity in the haze.
His touch was eager and persistent. He turned me around, pressing my skin against the cool steel of the car. I tensed when I felt his nails brush against my waist, pulling down my slacks. The cool breeze of the nighttime air hit my ass, jolting me back to reality for a brief moment. My body stiffened when I felt his hands enjoying the shape of my ass. And as if he felt me freeze, he pressed his body against mine and started to place kisses so gently on my neck that my eyes closed, allowing me to truly lose myself in the moment. I allowed myself to float away into a fantasy wherein my pain, anguish, and hurt didn’t exist. I was free. No worries. No obligations. No suffering.
“Ah!” I gasped when I felt him penetrate me from behind. My eyes shot open, bulged with shock. Once again, my body stiffened. “Mazi–"
“Sssh, it’s okay,” he coaxed me as he held me gently by the waist.
His strokes were gentle and slow. Each one was so meaningful and deep. My body relaxed against his muscular frame as he rode me from behind.
"Bless, you feel so good," he murmured, his breath hot against my neck.
I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Drunkenly, every emotion started to explode. Guilt caused me to whimper. But I also cried for how good it felt to be temporarily free of the drama and stress Legacy’s depression and addiction had caused.
But this wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to feel this way without Legacy. I wanted him to get better, so we could feel this way together again. But I was too drunk and too overwhelmed to stop Mazi. His strokes continued to make me whimper with satisfaction. I aimlessly stared up at the sky, tears blurring my vision.
He guided me a few inches over, until we were in the doorway of the driver’s seat. With his hand in the arch of my back, he bent me over. I anchored myself on the driver’s seat, locking my elbows.
“Beautiful, baby.”
I looked back to see that he was looking at my ass bounce back on his dick as he’d said that. I couldn’t take seeing his face, though. He felt good, but looking at him was proof that he wasn’t Legacy, that I was cheating. I turned around, facing forward, hating that this felt good and wrong at the same time.
I was so drunk that I didn’t realize he was finished until I felt him pulling my pants up. Now that he was no longer penetrating me, I could focus more. Suddenly, I was disgusted with him and myself. I took on the task of pulling my pants up, stepping away from him.
“You deleted my number, didn’t you?” he asked as he fixed his own clothes.
I drunkenly shrugged, now feeling both intoxicated from the liquor and shame.
Grinning slyly, he dug into my pocket. He must have known that’s where my phone was. He then got his out of his pocket and tapped a few buttons. He must have gotten a new number since we’d met last year or he was using a burner phone because my phone started ringing.
“Lock me in,” he told me as he returned my phone to my pocket.
I nodded.
“You sure you don’t need a ride home?”
My eyes were nearly closed as I slurred, “I’m sure.”
“Make sure you let me know you made it home safely,” he said as he guided me into the car.
“I will.”
Mazi gave me a sly, flirtatious grin as he closed the driver's side door. Through my tears, I watched him in the rearview mirror as he walked away, probably heading back to the club. As soon as he disappeared, I burst into tears. Sobs wracked my body, and I punched the steering wheel in frustration and self-loathing. I hated myself for what I’d just done.
Groaning, I took my phone from my pocket. I swiped to my call log. I went to Mazi’s number and blocked that one too. After tossing the phone into the passenger’s seat, I rested my head on the steering wheel, weeping uncontrollably. My sobs were loud and ragged, echoing in the confined space of the car. I felt like I was mourning Legacy, though he was still alive. The burden of my guilt pressed down on me, suffocating me. Since meeting Legacy, no other man had ever touched me. Now, I felt like I had betrayed him in the worst possible way.
The guilt bubbled up in my stomach, churning and rising to my throat. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I pushed open the car door and threw my upper body out just in time to start throwing up. The retching was violent, and the remnants of the drinks I’d had burned my throat. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to heave, as I realized that I had destroyed the last bit of faith I had in myself and in me and Legacy.