Chapter 6 #2
He’d never looked at me like that.
Not ever.
My chest caved in, and I couldn’t breathe. It felt like somebody was pressing on it, or squeezing the little life I had out of me.
The realization didn’t come gently. It slammed into me, vicious and unforgiving, stealing the air from my lungs. I couldn’t do shit but be still and watch the man I love hold my cousin like she was his entire world.
This man who’d killed people without blinking, who stayed calm when guns were pointed at his head, who never flinched, never panicked, never broke when shit was falling apart.
I thought of all the times I needed him.
He’d been there, for moral support, but it was never like that.
He never looked at me like losing me would destroy him.
But her? He looked like he’d just pulled his heart out of that water.
They were swimming back now, Romelo’s arm still locked around Synthia’s waist, keeping her close.
She wasn’t even struggling anymore, just letting him guide her.
His Gucci swimming trunks were drenched and sand covered his feet.
The diamonds from his Cuban chain and Audemars Piguet watch glistened.
Her head was resting against his shoulder, with her eyes closed, trusting him to guide her.
When they reached the shore, Mimi and Oliver were rushing toward him in a huddle, along with the instructor.
They trailed behind them. A gasp escaped my mouth when he lifted her to carry her in his arms like she weighed nothing.
Someone handed them a towel, and he wrapped it around her shoulders, tucking it in carefully.
Then he kissed her again, not a quick peck to the forehead this time, a lingering kiss, his lips resting on her wet skin.
Like it was natural. Like he’d done it a thousand times before.
Everything was numb except the pain in my chest. I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but watch my man hold the woman he actually wanted in front of me, like I didn’t exist.
I paddled back to shore, alone. My movements were robotic, my mind racing. I didn’t say a word to anyone. If I opened my mouth, I’d fucking scream. I wanted to kill this bitch. I wanted to kill both of them, actually. I wanted Mimi and Oliver too, for witnessing this shit.
I’m not the type of bitch who can be played with, and I don’t like people who play in my fucking face. I don’t deserve this shit.
I got out of the kayak and walked with my head hung low toward the beach house, amid the drowned and watched Romelo cloak Synthia like he was her guardian.
My blood was boiling, and I was riddled with anger that I couldn’t control.
In one swift motion, ignoring the chaos, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife, and charged toward Romelo.
His back was turned, and Synthia had his attention captive.
I was seeing fire, and everything around me was blurry, but my gaze remained trained on them.
I wanted to seek vengeance. I wanted them to hurt.
I wanted them to feel exactly what I’d been feeling.
If I wasn’t happy, then no one should be happy.
My feelings should be valid, and I don’t need people around me trying to rationalize my actions. I charged toward Romelo like a raging bull, but Oliver caught my hand, getting in the way.
“Oliver, move,” I glanced over at him, with tears swarming down my face. “Get the fuck out my way! Let my fucking hand go!” I snapped.
“Don’t do this shit right now, mane,” he spoke. His deep voice was soft, but it didn’t move me. “Give me the fucking knife!”
Romelo’s head popped up, and his eyes were dark and menacing toward me now. A look that I’d be scared to see in my dreams.
“Calm down,” Oliver spoke again.
“You’re expecting me to be calm and he’s fucking her!” I yelled. “This whole time he’s been fucking her, and you’re expecting me to be fucking calm!” I snapped at Oliver.
A clinking sound hit the floor, and my hands were empty. His bare foot covered the knife, then he slid it across the room.
He caught hell. I couldn’t let it go. My emotions were running wild. Oliver was hit, smacked, scratched. I was seeing red, and I had to take my anger out on somebody.
“Oliver, let her go,” I heard Romelo speak.
“What the fuck is going on in here!?” Mimi asked, making her appearance known.
In one swift motion, Romelo jacked me up, grabbed me by my neck, and lifted me off the ground. There wasn’t fear in his eyes, nor was there remorse. Oliver knew better than to intrude. Romelo could cause damage. I placed my hand around his to get him to loosen his grip.
“No, you know huh,” he spat. The diamonds from his grill blinded me, causing me to squint. “This yo way of crashin’ out or something.”
I couldn’t breathe again. If I died right here, I’d be satisfied because I’d be in his arms.
“Romelo, please.” My voice croaked as I begged.
“I don’t give a fuck ‘bout none of this bullshit. I been told you what it is from the get-go wit’ me and you. You chose to ignore the signs and listen to whatever voice in yo fuckin’ head. That ain’t on me, Trecee. You can’t blame me for this shit.”
“Y-yes I can,” I cried. “You never loved me. You never fucking loved me!”
Mustering up the strength, I raised my hand and hit him blindly. I didn’t care where my hand landed. He was causing me pain, and I wanted him to feel that pain too. I was hurting, so I wanted to make him hurt. It felt better, but my feelings couldn’t be erased.
Then he released me, and I grabbed my throat, letting out a gut-wrenching cough that made my chest sting.
My ears were ringing too. No matter how much I coughed, though, I still couldn’t breathe.
Tears were still swarming down my face, and they wouldn’t stop.
I was hurt. I was scarred. The love of my life isn’t the love of my life anymore, and everything felt tainted.
“I trusted you!” I screamed. “And this whole fucking time you’ve been fucking her!” I stabbed my finger in the direction Synthia was laid on the couch.
Romelo said nothing. My tears didn’t move him at all. Everybody was looking at me like I was a madwoman.
“You need to leave. I ain’t got shit else to say to you,” she finally spoke.
Oliver came over and stood between us.
I could see my veins protruding from my head and neck. My ears were on fire too.
My head turned to Mimi. I felt so fucking betrayed by her the most. “You knew?” My voice was raspy, filled with so much hurt and anguish.
She parted her mouth to speak, but her mouth hung low, and no words escaped. Her brows were knitted with sorrow.
“Fuck all of you motherfuckers!” I snapped again as I pushed Oliver out of the way and trotted toward my room with heavy feet.
Entering the room, I slammed the door after me.
Plopping down on the bed, I took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in the back of my throat.
My neck felt so sore, so I knew by morning there’d be a bruise with Romelo’s big hands imprinted around it.
Slumped over, I opened my hands and placed them in my lap as if the answers were there. I revisited the events in my head, and none of it added up that Synthia had been creeping with my man. It was so unusual, and it never dawned on me that he’d been seeking interest in her.
Then the questions began to flood my mind.
How long?
When did it start?
What caused it?
Why?
I always wanted to be the girl who got away, and I did. I ran into the arms of my man who didn’t care about my past. Romelo and I went through the mud, and you couldn’t look me in my eyes and tell me that man isn’t my happily ever after.
I’d always said Synthia was jealous of me, and that’s why I hated him around her. I never wanted him in close proximity with her because she didn’t carry herself like a woman. In my eyes, she was sloppy and unkept—living off my mama and too lazy to get off her ass and get some money.
I was the fool—the joke. The girl who didn’t see any of this shit coming. My birthday didn’t matter anymore. I’d lost him, but did I ever really have him to begin with?
LATER ON, THAT NIGHT,
I snatched my suitcase off the bed, not giving a fuck that half of my shit was hanging out of the sides. My hands moved on autopilot—grabbing my charger, my passport, anything that was mine.
The tears had dried up somewhere between dozing off, wishing all of this shit was a dream, and waking up to see the marks around my neck, reminding me that it wasn’t.
I was numb now. Hollow. Moving through the motions, because staying here another second would break me in ways I couldn’t come back from.
I wasted no time, using what little money I had to book the earliest flight back to Memphis. Fuck the original plan. Fuck waiting. I needed to be gone—now. At least I could still do that much on my own.
Zipping my suitcase with force, I shoved the clothes that were sloppily hanging out the sides back inside. I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door, but I didn’t care enough to see who it was. I didn’t matter then, and I shouldn’t matter now.
“Trecee.”
It was Mimi. Her voice came out small and soft.
I didn’t respond. I kept moving, walking back into the bathroom to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind that I couldn’t come back for.
“Trecee, can we talk for a second?”
“There ain’t shit to talk about.” My voice came out flat and nonchalant as I grabbed my Glam-A-Holic purse off the nightstand and slung it over my shoulder.
She opened the door anyway, invading my privacy, arms crossed over her chest. Her face was twisted with guilt and sadness, but none of it mattered to me.
“I know you’re upset—”
“Upset?” My head snapped so hard I heard it pop. I let out a bitter laugh, looking at her through narrowed eyes. “Nah, bitch. Upset ain’t even the word to describe how I feel right now.”
“Look, it wasn’t my place to tell—”