Chapter 29 #2
She turned slightly, and I could see her eye was swollen and red.
I turned her fast as hell, leaving the fridge door open.
My wife had clearly been crying, which meant someone needed to die.
Shit wasn’t logical, but hey, I was beyond the power of reasoning when it came to her.
The only “r” words that computed were ones like “rage” and “revenge.”
“Milaya, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she lied, her voice toneless.
“Who hurt you, Theory? Tell me, now,” I demanded.
She dredged up a fake little smile. “There you go being bossy.”
“Theory—”
“It’s fine, Targen.”
Another lie. I never wanted to hear those come out of her mouth. I pulled her into an embrace, hugging her tight, the way I knew she liked.
“No one gets to make you cry.”
“Except you, huh?” she shot back.
I stiffened. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to pick a fight or if something else was going on. I loosened my hold, leaned back.
“Not even me. Did I hurt you? This weekend? This morning? Tell me if I—”
She grabbed my face, remorse in her eyes. “No, no, no. You didn’t, baby. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I searched her face to be sure, then hugged her again.
“Did Sherrell touch you wrong?”
“Sherrell was even more wonderful.”
Maybe I could coax it out of her over food, I reasoned. “Let me make you lunch and—”
“I’m not hungry,” she murmured against my chest.
Yeah… something was wrong.
“Theory—”
“I’ma just go lie down. Don’t worry about me; fix yourself something, okay?” she said, pulling against my grasp on her.
I never wanted to hold her in a way that made her feel restrained, not after what she’d been through. So, reluctantly, I let her go, my gaze trained on her face. She wouldn’t even meet my eyes. That scared the fuck out of me.
“Theory, milaya—”
“I really need this nap, Targen,” she evaded before escaping up the backstairs.
I watched her retreat, my heart in my stomach.
I closed the refrigerator, then paced the kitchen, turning shit repeatedly in my head.
The next five minutes were torture. One second past that limit, I muttered, “Fuck this,” and jogged up the stairs.
I hadn’t been playing when I told her there would never be the kind of space and time between us that the last year had taken.
She faced the window, her back to me, when I opened the bedroom door. Her body shook gently, betraying the fact that she wasn’t asleep. Wordlessly, I grabbed a chair, circled the bed, and sat in front of my crying wife.
“Talk to me,” I said quietly. “I can’t just watch you cry, malyshka. Please.”
“Hard-headed,” she mumbled.
“So, I’ve heard. Theory—”
“I got my period, Targen!” her words were annoyed and she flipped away from me.
Relief flooded me. I didn’t have much experience with this, but I’d watched enough TV to know what to do… or not, I guess.
“Are you hurting? You want a heating pad or something?” I offered.
She shook her head, sandy colored spirals spilling everywhere.
“Do you want chocolate or… I don’t know… do you have cravings when this happens?”
Another head shake.
“Do you want a back rub?”
“You so stupid!” she lashed out.
I tilted my head. “Damn. Is verbal abuse part of the monthly cycle? A nigga just wanna take notes.”
“Targen!” she sobbed. “I got my period.”
And then her shoulders shook as she started sobbing in earnest. My shorty sounded like someone died.
I didn’t care about all the shit I’d ever heard about women being emotional during their periods, I knew this wasn’t right.
I racked my brain for what it could be, what I was missing.
I kept thinking about the pitiful way she told me, “I got my period.”
“Baby…”
“I got my period.” Not once but twice. My voice trailed off as a new possibility dawned.
I slid out of my outer clothes and shoes and pulled on some lounge pants before easing into bed behind her.
I pulled her toward me. She resisted for all of three seconds before allowing her trembling form to curve into mine.
I closed my eyes, trying to choose my words carefully. I just hoped I was right.
“Theory, milaya, I thought you didn’t want that right now?” I asked softly.
“I don’t. I just… maybe… I don’t know. I’m stupid, too,” she wailed.
I decided to let that “too” ride. “You not stupid. You know, we can try as soon as you ready.”
Her crying picked up, broke my heart with the desire to take away her pain.
“It’s not gon’ work,” she wept brokenly.
“Don’t say that, milaya. It will.”
“It won’t. He ruined me. You don’t understand. You don’t know—”
“I do.”
“You don’t—”
“Baby. I do.”
Something in my voice stopped her, made her realize the truth in what I was saying. The thing that I’d been searching for words to make better since I’d been back, the thing that I would never fully be absolved from… my reckoning had come. I sighed.
“I know, milaya. I know you not just angry with me for leaving. I know you angry because of what happened while I was gone. I didn’t know then, when it happened.
I swear to you that I didn’t. Maxim told me when I got back, then Real.
I’m sorry, Theory, so damn sorry baby. Sorry that I wasn’t here. Sorry for our loss—”
“I wanted her s-so bad, Targen,” she interrupted.
“I wanted some part of you, because you were gone, and I wanted to believe… I felt like God was giving me something of you to make it easier til you came back. To make what happened between us so fast and so hard make sense. I h-held her four months. And then, she was just… gone… Emory had her baby, and Ev was pregnant, so I didn’t want to seem selfish.
I had to smile and celebrate and be happy…
And I really was for them, I promise, I was—” she dissolved into sobs again.
“Baby—”
“I got so low. I didn’t think I could do it by myself.
I wanted you. I asked for you. I went to Real.
I fucking begged for you. He told me that you were alive, but that you couldn’t come.
Not even for me. Not even then. I wanted to fall apart, but I knew, if I did, there was no coming back together.
Not again. I'd barely done it after… after the incident. If I went under again, I’d drown.
So, I took everything I felt, and I put it into hating you…
I thought. Now look at my weak ass,” she scoffed.
“You the last person who should ever call herself weak,” I murmured.
She cried harder at that, like the soft words hurt worse than anything else. I held her through it, my hand spread over her stomach while she shook against me.
“I loved her already,” she whispered. “I never saw her or held her, but I loved her.”
A knife straight through my heart couldn't have hurt more than hearing that aching confession. “I know, milaya.” It was all I had.
It wasn't enough.
“I think I been grieving her by myself so long that I didn't allow her to be yours, too. That had to be terrible, coming back and finding out like that.”
She would never know how that had ripped my damn heart out, never know how I struggled to keep my hands off Maxim until a few days ago, never know the tears I had cried while my mama held me and wept, too.
My job was to lighten my baby's load, not make her feel heavier. I pressed my face into her hair and closed my eyes. “I would’ve loved her so much,” I admitted roughly.
“I would’ve worshipped that little girl.
Any baby you give me, milaya... never doubt how much I’ll cherish it. ”
She made a soft sound, halfway between a sob and a laugh.
“She probably would've been so spoiled,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, running all my shit with her mean little attitude, just like her mama.”
Theory let out another weak laugh, then finally turned to face me. I kissed her forehead and pulled the bedspread higher around us, cocooning us in.
“So, you ain’t gotta carry this alone no more. Not the grief or anger or the way it feels unfair. Not none of it. I’m here now, and I know that don’t erase what happened, but I’m here. I'm so sorry I wasn't. I'll be making that up to you forever,” I vowed, before kissing her softly.
Her fingers curled into my arm.
“Okay,” she whispered. “But Targen... what if we can't?” Fresh tears pooled in her honey eyes, even the thought distressing her.
“We can,” I said firmly.
“But—”
“Theory. Please understand that you with me is forever, baby or no baby. So, I'm not saying 'we can' because a baby is some kind of deal breaker. I'm saying it because I believe it. And because the way I love seeing that pretty little cream pie, it'll be damn near impossible for it not to happen.”
She wrinkled her nose at me, laughing despite her pain. “Just nasty for no reason.”
“Have you seen you? You're enough reason.”
Her laugh was stronger this time, a little more humor shining through.
“Seriously, we know we can conceive. And I know there are things to help you carry til term, milaya. And beyond that, there are just other ways. So, whenever, if ever you're ready, then it will happen.”
She curled into me and went quiet again, her breathing going from the shallow gasps of her crying to deep and even, so much so, I thought she was asleep until she spoke again.
“Targen?”
“Hmm?”
“I lied.”
“About?”
“The heating pad.”
“I figured.”
“The chocolate.”
“Expected.”
“The back rub.”
“I meant booty.”
She kissed her teeth as I chuckled before taking her mouth with mine.
“You can have all that.”
“I know,” she said, saucy enough to sound like herself.
“You can have everything,” I promised her.
She looked up at me, cupped my cheek, and whispered, “I already do.”
If it were possible, I fell even harder for my sweet wife in that moment.
“You want to go to Emancipation?” I asked suddenly.
She frowned. “Thursday? Yeah, we have to, crazy—”
“Nah. Today. Right now. I feel like you need it.”
She sighed as she snuggled against me. “I feel like you right. How about my back rub first, though?”
“You got that,” I said, sliding a hand around her.
A few seconds later, she bit me on my chest.
“Higher, nasty ass!”
I sighed. “Yes, ma'am.”