Chapter 17 #3
“I need you to know there is no competition when it comes to you. You stand alone. The bar is too high for anyone to reach.”
Noble swiped his tongue across his lips, drinking up her words. “I appreciate that. You need to know no woman has ever captured me like you, Pumpkin. Wear that shit with honor ‘cause nobody can say that they had my heart like this.”
She kissed his lips and laid on his chest. Irish was so content that she could’ve stayed in his arms for eternity.
Days later…
Cali drove into the parking lot and shut off her engine.
As each day passed, she had begun pulling herself together emotionally.
One day, she got out the bed. The next day, she went to the coffee shop.
Days after, she went to the grocery store just to be out amongst other people.
It had been a daunting task to crawl out of the depressive hole she’d caused but she was managing.
Now, she got out the car and headed toward Irish’s warehouse.
When the door opened, Irish stepped out, wearing a smile that was so infectious she couldn’t help but beam.
“Friend!”
They ran to each other, mirroring the dramatic movie scenes when people reunited. Embracing one another, Cali basked in Irish’s presence. It had been too long since they’d seen each other. It almost brought tears to Cali’s eyes how much she’d missed her girl.
“I can’t tell you’ve been depressed.” Irish joked, pulling back. “You look good.”
“Oh, girl you should've seen me a month ago. My sister damn near put a gun to my head to go get my hair done.”
Irish rolled her eyes, instantly making Cali laugh.
“Rozalin said call her. She miss you, sis.”
“Girl, fuck her. She chose her side now stay over there. I’ll never let her ass touch my head again… I won’t lie these young girls can’t slay hair like Rozalin.” Irish poked her lip out.
“They really can’t. Pixie cut be lasting for two days and shit. I’ma stick beside her.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not going back.” Irish smiled at her. “How are you?”
Cali pushed out a weighty breath. “I’m not good but… I’m trying to pull myself together. I had that Zoom interview and it went well. They requested another interview.”
Irish’s face fell in disappointment. “Please don't tell me you're thinking about moving. What am I going to do without you?”
“I didn’t get the job yet,” she countered, knowing that her background in software engineering gave her a huge advantage.
“But you will, Cali. When it comes to your field, your ass slays.”
She shrugged. “I wish I had that power in other areas of my life.”
A faint smile covered Irish’s lips. It was a smile that was lathered in pity. One that had plagued her ever since her marriage ended.
“I wanna take you somewhere. Let’s walk this way.”
The two women walked out of the parking lot and headed down the street.
“I’m sorry for not being there for you, Cali. I know it’s been hard letting go of what you and Rio had.”
She shrugged, looking down at her feet as they walked. “It’s cool, Irish. I know you were going through your shit with Jovanis. By the way, have you spoken to him?”
She shook her head. “No, but I will.”
The two didn’t say anything else. They walked until Irish stopped at a booth.
“What’s this?”
“This is the Stoplight Booth. You can go inside and talk to a therapist. I think you should try it.”
Cali’s upper lip curled as her gaze skated between the booth and Irish. “Try what?”
“Talking to someone.” She chuckled.
“Who is the someone?”
“It’s a therapist, Cali. I’ve done it before.”
Her eyes widened at her revelation. “You’ve spoken to someone in this booth?”
“Yes, and she was very helpful.” Irish grabbed her hands. “Listen, you need to talk to someone about your feelings. You also need help on how to get out of this depression. I don't want it to develop into something else more serious. Just try it out for me, please.”
“Irish, I don't know.” Cali rubbed her forehead. “I don't know this person or is it people?”
“It’s only one person and her name is Carrie. She’s really good and gentle. Do this one thing and if you don't like it, you’ll never have to do it again.”
Cali eyed the booth for a while contemplating Irish’s offer. What good would this do if it couldn’t bring Rio back to her? She was tired of talking and fatigued with thinking. Cali just wanted an escape, and she knew this wasn’t the way to do it.
“Calia,” Irish used her real name. “I think this’ll be good. Now I’m going to go get us some iced lattes from the coffee shop. I’ll be back to get you in a few.”
Irish pranced away, leaving Cali no time to refuse. Reluctantly, she stepped inside the booth, pleasantly surprised that it was clean with cool air blasting from the vent. There was a small counter, so she placed her purse on top.
“Why am I in here?” she whispered, rubbing her sweaty palms down her legs.
Cali sat in silence, trying to talk herself out of leaving the booth. Then, Irish’s voice replayed in her mind. She told herself that she would do it for her, so she reached for the receiver and placed it up to her ear.
“Hello?”
The tone on the other end was soothing.
“Hello?”
“Hi, how are you?”
Cali cleared her throat, pressing her lips together. This felt so strange to her; talking to a stranger about issues she had brought on herself. Yeah, she wasn’t feeling it.
“You know what? I’m sorry, this ain't for me.”
“What? Talking to someone?”
“No, just… I guess talking to a stranger about my problems.”
“Well, how about this? We introduce ourselves and share one fact about each other. That way, we won’t be considered strangers anymore. How does that sound?”
“Uhh, I guess.”
“Well, I’ll go first. My name is Carrie, and I went to an HBCU for college. Howard University to be exact.”
“Howard, huh?” She smirked. “I wanted to go to an HBCU but attended Georgetown.”
“Wow, that’s still a good school.”
“Yeah, it was cool.” Cali shrugged, looking down at her bare nails. Before the divorce, she wouldn’t have been caught without her nails done. “I didn’t have any complaints.”
“What’s your name?”
“Calia.”
“So, you're Calia and you went to Georgetown for college. What did you study?”
“I studied foundational sciences and math then spent two years at Columbia for engineering.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. I love seeing women in STEM. It’s really cool.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you a little more comfortable than you were five minutes ago?”
“Um, I’m okay. Not completely comfortable though.”
“I can’t help but notice the sadness in your tone, Calia. Do you wanna tell me about that?”
Suddenly, water flooded Cali’s eyes. She’d cried enough tears to fill an ocean.
“I’m just…” She sniffled. “I’m so mad at myself right now.”
Cali could no longer hold her cry inside.
Tears dripped down her skin as she closed her eyes.
The amount of hatred she possessed for herself was dangerous.
This had to be what people felt before they committed suicide.
She used to judge people who took their own lives.
Cali foolishly thought those people were selfish but now she understood it. They just wanted the pain to cease.
“And why are you mad at yourself?” Carrie quizzed.
“Because!” she snapped. “I hurt someone that I love so much. My husband—I mean ex-husband. I cheated on him, and I regret it. He hates me now and so do I.”
“First let me say I’m sorry that your marriage ended. A divorce is a major loss. Sort of like a death. It’s normal to go through stages of grief when it occurs.”
“That’s what it feels like,” Cali admitted. “Like I’m grieving.”
“How do you currently feel besides you hating yourself? Do you feel anger, sadness, self-pity?”
Cali licked her lips. “I feel empty. Like there's nothing inside me. I was in the bed for two months straight. There was nothing that could get me out of it. Although I’ve made progress of pulling myself out of this depression, every day I wanna retreat to that bed and never get up.”
Wiping her wet face with her hands, Cali couldn’t believe she was spilling her true feelings onto this stranger. Had she gotten so desperate that she’d tell anyone her sins? Internally, Cali felt pathetic but something deep inside her wouldn’t allow her to walk out the booth.
“Well, I’m proud of you for not giving up. It’s so easy to allow depression to swallow us but you're fighting back and I’m proud of you, Calia.”
Cali hadn’t heard those set of words in so long. No one had been proud of her decisions, but it felt good to hear Carrie profess it.
“I want you to be mindful that you're a human being and we’re not always going to make great choices. Your decision to step out on your marriage doesn’t define who you are. Your life just doesn’t equal up to that shortsighted choice.”
“It feels like it, though. Like everything in my life has equated to this dumb shit that I did. I gotta be honest. It wasn’t just me cheating on him.
The guy that I cheated with tried to kill my husband.
He caused a car accident and put him in the hospital for weeks.
My betrayal runs deep, which is why my ex hates me so much. ”
“Hmm, I understand.”
“I didn’t appreciate my husband until after the accident. It was then that I realized how much I really loved him. I feel like I cheated myself out of having a fruitful marriage. I played with him. Didn’t take my vows serious and now I’m suffering for it.”
“Calia, I don't want you to be so hard on yourself.”
“How can I not?” she countered, growing agitated. “I fumbled the biggest blessing that I had. I deserved to be beat up for what I did to him.”
“The reason why I want you to stop the negative self-talk is because it’s not healthy. Also, you need to rebuild your resilience and healthier perspectives. Eventually, don't you want to feel better emotionally?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop talking down on yourself. You can grieve; you can feel every emotion but don’t talk negatively to yourself.
It’s not healthy for your mind and your heart.
Our words are so powerful. The negative talk can start planting roots inside our bodies.
I don't want that for you, and I’m sure you don't either.”
“I don't,” she mumbled.
“Great, now I want you to start doing something.”
“Like what?”
“I want you to start journaling. Write down how you feel each day. This is to regulate your emotions and recognize cognitive thought patterns. Journaling will also help you manage the stress and anxiety from getting a divorce. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yeah, I can.”
“And Calia, what you're going through isn’t abnormal. The thing about being an adult is experiencing pain. It’s inevitable no matter if you caused the pain or someone else did. No one escapes it. So please don't think you're in this alone.”
“That’s easy to say when I feel so lonely. All I can think about is my ex… he actually called me last week.”
“Really? When was the last time you had spoken to him?”
“Right before our divorce finalized, which was three months ago.”
“Okay and how did the conversation go?”
Cali swallowed hard. That night had replayed inside her mind like a loop. She felt pathetic for cherishing a five-minute conversation even though Rio was annoyed with her. Cali would take him any way as long as he gave her his attention.
“During a deep depressive episode, I went and got his initial tattooed on my ring finger. I posted a picture online and he saw it. He wanted to know why I got the tattoo.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I got it because I wanted to feel him. I know it seems dumb to get a tattoo of my ex-husband’s initial, but I didn’t care. I’ll never marry again and I won’t find a love like him.”
“I understand. Sometimes we do things that others won’t comprehend.”
“Yeah, my sister thought I was slow for getting it, but I wanted it.” She gazed at her tattooed finger, finding no regrets.
“How did your conversation end?”
“I apologized and told him how much I regretted hurting him. He then hung up in my face. That’s how we got off the phone. No clarity. No forgiveness. Just resentment.”
“He’s allowed to feel emotions just like you are.”
“I know.” She cleared the emotion from her throat. “I don't blame him.”
Cali swiftly wiped her face. Discussing Rio made her soul weep. She was determined to have a good day without falling deeper into the melancholy hole.
“I’m gonna go. I don't want to feel bad right now. I thank you for listening.”
“No problem, Calia. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“I appreciate that. Goodbye.”
Cali hung up and grabbed her purse. When she stepped out of the booth, Irish sat on the bench, holding her iced latte in her hand.
“How did it go?” she asked right away.
“It was… cool. She was nice and I appreciated her feedback. I just can’t take anymore sad shit. Please tell me you have something fun planned for us?”
“I do. Let’s go furniture shopping. I’ll even treat you to a new bag.”
Cali grinned. “And this is why you’ll always be my best friend.”