24. Chanice #2
“Can I talk while you do that?” I rest my head against the couch, relaxing into this position.
“Yes,” he says, looking down, as if realizing he is still in just his underwear. Putting on a smock, he sort of rectifies the situation enough that he won’t get paint on his bare skin.
“You’re really good at this. I think that painting you did is some of the most detailed artwork I have ever seen.” Not that I’m an expert or anything, but to me it’s even better than the stuff he has in his home.
Yet none of his own work is hung up. Even in this room, there are canvases full of his talent pressed against the wall, and each other.
He shrugs, showing me why that is.
“If you come from money, and I don’t know, have enough to just give away, why don’t you do this full-time?” On our first date, he said he didn’t think of himself as an artist. Maybe this is why? I’m asking to see if there is something deeper that keeps him from his passion.
“I can’t just be an artist. I had to take over my family’s company.
An entire legacy rests on my shoulders, and I don’t know if I am capable of walking away from that.
Not that there was ever really a choice.
In order to receive certain things, like my trust or college funds, my decisions had to align with that obligation.
” His voice lacks emotion, like this is all just a fact he has come to terms with.
I wish I could see his eyes to know if they tell a different story.
“So you don’t have a choice?”
“Taking over the business is the reason I was conceived. They needed a son to continue the name.”
I couldn’t imagine my entire existence being for one purpose.
As much as I have going on in my life, most of it is my choice.
I opened myself up to this responsibility, and I choose every day how to support that.
No one told me that I had to do these things.
The way he is talking, it sounds like every step of his life was made to lead him in one direction. Whether he wanted to go there or not.
“Are you at least close with your family? Is there a part of you that is doing this out of love?”
Coming from behind the easel, he just looks at me for a moment before shaking his head. “My parents loved me for what I would do for them one day, not for who I am. If it weren’t for my sister and grandfather, I wouldn’t even know what love feels like.”
Silence hovers between us as those words fill our mouths.
The honesty of those raw confessions has me swallowing a swell of emotion.
How is it possible that we can come from such different backgrounds, but both grow up in a home lacking the base love that every child is deserving of?
I never thought that there was a part of me that would understand him, but I get this.
There is an emptiness that was supposed to be filled by their affection that echoes inside of us. I can see it now when I look in his eyes, and the ache to fill it has me speaking before I can think better.
“You are lovable. I feel the urge to do it every time I am with you.” I close my eyes, scared by the confession. Wondering how I have gotten to this place with him.
I tried so hard to keep walls up, but with every interaction, he has chipped away at them. That is why I really came here last night, because, despite my best efforts, he sees me. Maybe it’s time I show him that I see him too.
I open them back up and watch as he just looks at me.
He is so still, I wonder if I have knocked the breath from his lungs.
Placing everything down, he walks over and drops to his knees.
When he takes my face into his hands, I respond by doing the same.
Our lips clash together, fighting to express everything we feel.
In this one kiss, I can tell how much he needed to hear that, how much he may need me.
I wonder if he can feel the same, because even though I fought it, I need him too.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice wavering.
I plant a kiss on his lips and then pull back. “Don’t thank me for the unavoidable.”
He smiles and then stands, offering to help me up.
“Are we done?” I ask,
“For now.”
I take his hand and let him pull me into his arms. It’s not until I feel his heart settle again that I let go.
“I should really get home. The kids are going to be done school soon.” Whether I like it or not, I need to be there to tell them about the court case.
He understands, and this time we finish the walk to get my stuff.
When we are at the door, the way we hold each other solidifies that we have passed the point of no return.
We are more to each other than a fling. It’s just up to me now to make it official, and at this point, I can’t think of any of the reasons I shouldn’t.
I need to be sure before I do anything, though.
As soon as I finish getting dressed after my shower, the kids come through the door.
Instantly, Gabby throws herself into my arms and tells me she missed me.
It reopens the cut I just soothed at Alex’s house, as I remember that she may be saying this a lot more often if our mum has her way.
I kiss her forehead before squeezing her as tight as I can, like it will hold her here.
Imani can see the tears growing in my eyes because she asks, “What happened?”
This gets Jamal’s attention. He puts down his book and comes to stand in front of me as well.
“We can talk after dinner,” I say.
“No, I want to know now.” Imani crosses her arms, blocking me from being able to reach her.
“Why don’t we sit?” I point to the couch and then lead the way. We all squeeze on the three-seater with Gabby on my lap.
“So,” I say and then take a deep breath. “Before anyone freaks out, please know I’m doing everything I can to stop it. I’m even going to hire a solicitor. So this might not happen at all.”
“Holy fuck,” Imani says, cutting me off. “Tell me it’s not what I think.”
I grab her hand and squeeze, never breaking eye contact. “Mum is fighting for custody.”
She closes her eyes, and I look at the other two to see confusion radiating in theirs.
“What does that mean for us?” Jamal asks.
“It means we are going to have to go back to living with her.” Imani tries to wipe the rapidly falling tears, but they are too quick. Some land on her shirt.
“No way,” Jamal says. He stands up and crosses his arms, his brows furrowing. “You can’t let them do that.” His voice spikes.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure they don’t. It’s not guaranteed at this point that you will have to go.” I grab his hand, trying to bring him back, but he pulls away.
Imani is full-on sobbing now, and Gabby hasn’t made a sound.
I try to quickly explain what I was told and what our options are, reiterating the fact that I’m going to get us help. It doesn’t ease the tension on any of their faces.
“I’m sorry, guys.” My voice finally wobbles as I start to break from holding all my own emotions at bay.
“I just can’t,” Imani says, standing up. A few seconds later, we hear her door slam shut.
Jamal sighs and then starts pulling at his hair. When he notices me watching him, he grabs his book and makes his way to his bedroom, where he quietly closes his door.
I stare at the hallway for a moment before I look down at Gabby. “Are you okay?” I know it’s a stupid question, but I don’t know what else to say to get her to talk.
“I don’t want to go, Chanice.”
I always thought she didn’t remember much from that time, but nightmares seem to dance in her dilating pupils. She grips my shirt, like that alone will keep her here.
“I know, Gabby. I know.”
She stays in my arms, stiff and quiet. I continue to rub her back, hoping at some point she will ease into a more comfortable position, but she doesn’t. She won’t relax, no matter what I do.
It’s not until she can’t fight sleep anymore that she finally loosens up.
I bring her to her room and put her in her bed.
When I turn, I see Imani curled against the wall on her mattress with the blanket tucked around her.
I know we both will barely fit, but I climb in next to her all the same and wrap her in my arms. The vibrating of her silent tears slowly eases as the minutes pass by with me holding her like this. When she is softly snoring, I let go.
Jamal is asleep with his book on his chest, and I know his escape into his love of aquatic life is better than any words I could have offered him. Especially since none of them are guaranteed. So I just tuck him in, too.
Back in the living room, I take a deep breath before I open my phone and get to work trying to stop this.