Chapter 9 #2
“Let me not stand too close to you because I am not ready yet,” Danae joked. “I’m tryna get down the aisle first.”
“You betta get ready,” Thyri said. “I heard Aura is planning a starting line up.”
“And Enzo ain’t too far behind,” Key chimed in.
We talked until Pryce made his way back over with my food in one hand and balancing two drinks in the other.
“And here comes her Sullivan,” Key said.
“Here, let me help you.” I grabbed the plate and set it on the table.
“Wassup, y’all?” he spoke.
The ladies spoke back, and Danae looked at me in shock.
“Girl, I don’t know where you been but please stay. He ain’t never spoke to me first,” she said.
I smirked, and Pryce shook his head.
“And her being here don’t guarantee that I’ll do it again,” he said.
“Yes, he will,” I assured.
Thyri chuckled. “We’ll let y’all eat. Hopefully, we’ll see you around, Adai. I know a really good massage therapist that specializes in pregnancy massages if you’re ever interested.”
“It betta not be a nigga, or she’s not.” Pryce answered on my behalf.
I sucked my teeth. “Anyway, yes. I’m definitely interested. We’ll talk.”
They walked off, and I sat back down in front of my plate. “This looks good.” The plate had a good portion of curry chicken and shrimp, rice, mac and cheese, yams, and cabbage. “You did good.”
“I know,” he replied.
“And what’s this? Sweet tea?” I went to pick up one of the cups that were both filled with brown liquid.
He pulled it back immediately. “That’s mine.” Sliding the cup over to him, he pushed the other toward me.
“That’s alcohol?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Since when you drink?”
“Tonight.”
“Why?”
“Cause I don’t wanna be responsible for my actions.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. Eat your food.”
I stared at him a few seconds longer than I meant to.
I wanted to lean more into what he said, but the way he lifted the cup to his lips, signaling the end of the conversation, I dropped it.
Instead, I ate my food while he alternated from watching me and watching his family.
Once I was done, I got up to move around.
I hadn’t come out to the party to sit up under him the whole night.
I mingled, laughed, got rubbed on like a genie in a bottle, and answered the same few pregnancy questions at least six different times.
I didn’t mind though. I was having a ball jumping in and out of photos and being front row during the line dances.
It was only when the baby started to ball up at the bottom of my stomach that I returned to my seat.
Pryce was still seated in the same spot, and next to him was a bottle of 1942.
His bucket hat was pulled low now, covering his eyes.
I stopped in front of him and lifted his head. As expected, he gave me that intoxicated stare.
“I think it’s time for you to head home,” I said.
“I’m cool. I’m vibing. Go dance.”
“No,” I replied. “You not. You’re drunk. Come on so I can take you home, lightweight.” I snickered.
“Why you wanna take me home, Dai?” he asked, rubbing the back of my leg.
I shook my head. “Cause you can’t take you home. Watch out. Lemme change my shoes.”
I stepped back and reached into my purse to get my flats. Taking a seat, I changed my shoes. Handing him the heels, I stood and gestured for him to do the same.
“Do you need me to hold you up?”
“Nah.” He held my shoes by the heel, making me laugh. “I got it.”
“Okay.”
Still, I grabbed his hand and escorted him to the exit. Halfway there, his father spotted us.
“Where y’all headed?” he asked, walking toward us.
“I’m taking the lightweight home. He reached his limit on drinks.”
He looked Pryce over once and smirked. “Now you know you can’t hang, son. I can take him home though, Dai.”
“It’s okay. I got him,” I insisted, causing Pryce to look over at me.
“Alright,” his dad said. “You driving?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Gimme your keys, Pryce. I’ll take your car home, and ya mom can drive ours.”
Pryce handed his keys over without argument.
“It was good seeing you, sweetheart.” Princeton hugged me and kissed my forehead.
“Yo, Pop,” Pryce called out.
“Don’t start ya shit. Get home safe.” He hit his shoulder and walked back in the direction he’d come from.
“Don’t be letting no niggas kiss on you. Ion care if it’s my pops.”
“Pryce, hush.”
And just like that, we walked out together.
When we arrived at his place, I was hesitant to get out. The last time I was here, I left my heart behind. I sat in the driver’s seat in his driveway, staring at the front door. This was once my home away from home. But sitting here now made me sad. My hand went to my belly as I shifted in my seat.
Pryce noticed. “You aight?” he asked with his hand on the door handle.
I nodded even though I knew that I wasn’t. “Yeah. I’m fine,” I replied, but my body didn’t move. My eyes stayed planted on the door.
The last time I’d walked down this driveway, I convinced myself that leaving was the only way to survive loving Pryce, like the miles in distance would somehow heal me and make him realize the error in his ways.
And now, here I was again, this time with something that would keep us tethered together for life.
“You don’t have to come inside if you’re not ready, Dai,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “We can sit right here until you are.”
I looked over at him with the bucket hat still low over his eyes. The response surprised me. The Pryce from six months ago would’ve told me to get out of the car and come inside. But this version of him gave me space to move on my time.
“I’m good,” I said finally, opening the door with my keys clenched in my hands.
The night air hit my face as I stepped out.
It was quiet, the same way it always was on his block.
All of Pryce’s neighbors were older and pretty much stayed to themselves.
It worked for him since he wasn’t one for friendly exchanges with people he didn’t know anyway.
He walked behind me as I moved to the front door.
Unlocking it, he stepped back just enough to let me walk in before him. The first thing I took note of was the smell. I could tell he’d been using the Febreze plug ins that I kept stocked underneath his kitchen sink.
“I gotta take a leak,” he said, walking around me and down the hall to the bathroom.
I didn’t move from where I stood near the door. The thing that had been sitting on my chest for too long waiting to come out wouldn’t allow me to move. I couldn’t get comfortable. Minutes later, he came back out.
“You can…”
“You let me leave.” The words left my mouth before he could finish his sentence. Before I could pretend like that day six months ago didn’t still hurt.
His hat was off, so I could see his eyes now. He stood in front of me, frozen. Not in a way like he was trying to find the right words to say, just still so that I could fully express myself.
“I needed you to fight for me,” I continued, my voice shaking even though I tried my best to keep it steady. “I needed you to say something. Do something. Make me stay. Anything but let me just go.”
“I couldn’t fight for you without the risk of breaking you even more, Dai.”
“That’s a cop out, Pryce. An excuse that I refuse to accept.”
“Who said I was looking for acceptance?” he countered.
“You see? I’m outta here.” I turned to leave, and he grabbed me by my arm.
“Nah. You ain’t doing that shit again.”
“Why shouldn’t I? You over here doing the same shit that made me leave in the first place.”
“First of all, the stakes are higher now. You don’t get to leave just cause I say some shit you don’t like, Dai. You want a nigga to sugarcoat shit for you when you know that’s not the man you fell in love with.”
“No, Pryce. I want communication with the man I fell in love with that doesn’t just fall in the area of black and white. Sometimes, it’s grey. Don’t you get that?”
“I do.”
“I went through half my pregnancy alone,” I said. “Do you know what that felt like?”
“I do. Because I went through half of it without knowing my child existed.”
“Why did you wait ‘til now to reach out? Did you at least think about calling?”
“I thought about it. Thought about flying to Houston and making you come back too.”
“How’d you know I was in Houston?”
“You never turned your location off.”
It would be me to leave access to my location open without remembering that I had.
“Besides,” he continued, “had I called, you would’ve come back.”
I blinked and cocked my head to the side. “What?”
“You would’ve came back,” he repeated. “And whatever you needed to figure out mentally when you left me, you wouldn’t have gotten it. Shit, I wouldn’t have gotten it.”
His words hit that space in my heart that needed mending. His answer meant that he understood the message that I thought had been going over his head all this time.
“So, you do get it.” My throat tightened.
“I’ve always understood what you needed. It did take you leaving for me to fully get it.”
From where I stood, it seemed like he needed to be drunk in order to tap into this vulnerable side. They said a drunk mind spoke sober thoughts. I would take it as it came right now.
“I get that shit that I felt was small was big to you. Like me having the last word and not being open to hearing anything that sounded like it went against what I felt. I get that being heard and considered in all things makes you feel safe. I get that my way of doing things isn’t always the right way of doing things. ”
“Do you love me?” I asked out of the blue.
“Yes.”
“Enough to compromise?”
He shook his head, and that truth stung without him having to say it verbally.
“I love you enough to sacrifice.”
I frowned. “What’s the difference?”
He stepped closer. “Compromise means that somebody’s giving something up even if they don’t believe in it,” he said. “Solely for the purposes of making something work.”
“And sacrifice?” I asked quietly.