Fabe
On Christmas Eve, I crept through Aaliyah and Rah’s back door. As I walked in, I told myself I was just there to drop off my gifts and bounce because, as always, Aaliyah was home alone.
As I inched through the kitchen, I could hear old slow jams playing through the speakers in the living room. Red and green lights from the tree were blinking against the walls.
Aaliyah was swaying to SZA in short shorts and a bra top.
Her hips rocked while she hung ornaments.
The sight stopped me in my tracks. I’d been trying to starve this feeling, but every time I got near her it fed itself.
Aaliyah felt like the right answer. She made me think about doing the kind of forever I never promised anyone.
I walked quietly over the carpet until I was right behind her, close enough to smell her lotion. My hand found her without asking, cupping her waist.
She turned with that smile I kept trying not to dream about.
“Fabe!” she screeched. “I thought you were Rah!”
I backed up, hands raised, grinning like a guilty man who didn’t want forgiveness.
“You scared me,” she panted with shock. Then she relaxed while looking at my hand that was still on her waist. “You betta stop.”
I let her turn back to the tree because desire was roaring inside of me, but I forced my common sense to tell it to chill.
“Put that thing up,” I murmured in a voice I only had for her.
She started tugging at her shorts like modesty would make my need for her go away. I slid the big gift bag under the tree with my foot and stood there, soaking her in even as I told myself to leave her alone. I wanted to be the man she never had to doubt, the man who made holidays feel like home.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she continued to decorate the tree. “Rah isn’t here.”
“I can see that. I’m dropping off gifts for him, Junior, and you.”
I traced a line at the small of her back, just to feel that spark hit my finger. She jumped, and the way her booty jiggled made my self-control slip.
“Stop it, Fabe.” She turned, eyes searching mine. “What’s gotten into you? Are you drunk?”
I wasn’t drunk. Not even close. I was clearer than I’d ever been and fixed on the one truth that was getting harder to hide. I wanted her. I wanted to love her out loud, not in the shadows.
Usually, I joked my way around it. Lately, it had been getting harder to.
“Why are you so committed to him?”
She blinked rapidly. My question had caught her off guard. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
Her answer stung, but it didn’t surprise me. Loyalty was the prettiest thing about her, and it was my downfall. I respected it even though it kept her away from me.
“And why don’t you have the same loyalty to him? That’s your brother.”
Her eyes pinned mine. I saw her nipples hardening under her top, her breath catching, and blood rushing to her face. I sat on the couch before I did something that rewired both our lives with one bad decision.
She followed. I watched her fingers work the knot in the lights and thought about all the knots of lies, stress, and him I wanted to undo for her.
“What did you mean by bad men love love too?” she asked without looking me in the eyes. She was nervous, like she was scared of the answer.
I wanted to tell her everything. But all I told her was, “Even toxic, selfish men can feel love and say they love you, but the way they love brings chaos, pain, and control.”
“You’re saying your brother is toxic and selfish?”
“He’s not here to put this tree up with you.”
“He’s Christmas shopping for his kids.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. The look I gave her was the only truth I could offer without completely betraying blood. I wanted to flat out tell her that she deserved better than lonely holidays and pretty excuses. But I wasn’t a snitch.
Aaliyah sucked her teeth. “If you know something, just tell me.”
“I don’t have to spell it out for you,” I said, hating how close I was to crossing the line.
I wanted Christmases with our names on the same mailbox. But I wasn’t gonna win her by dragging Rah’s name through the dirt, even if he deserved it.
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was light, but I let it linger just to taste her. “I’m about to get out of here. I just wanted to drop the gifts off.”
She nodded, but her eyes held mine like she wanted more meaning to what I had said, but she forced out, “Merry Christmas, Fabe,” instead of the questions in her eyes.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
For a second, I almost stayed. I almost reached for her hand and wrecked every line I swore I wouldn’t cross.
But, instead, I stood, stepped back, and made myself turn toward the door. I forced myself to leave before I started asking for more than what was truly mine.