Chapter 33
I hated him for dragging me out of bed, lacing my gloves, and standing across from me in this gym like I had anything left to give. My body still didn’t feel like mine, my reflection in the mirror felt like a stranger, and I’d convinced myself I’d never be her again.
Cyan Bleu Westbrook was worth every ounce of darkness I felt inside.
His daddy was another story. He got the shiny new toy, Cyan Bleu Wesbrook, while I got weight gain, stretch marks, and too many changes to keep track of.
It was hard not to resent him at times, but Treason never took it personally.
My arms already felt like noodles, sweat stinging my eyes as I tried to keep up with Treason’s rhythm. Every punch he called for landed sloppy, off-beat, and weak, and the smirk on his face told me he noticed.
“Keep playing, and we’ll stay down here all day. Do it right this time,” he ordered, tapping his gloves against mine like I wasn’t dying on the inside.
“The State Assembly Leader can’t stay in the gym all day when there’s a city to run,” I replied sarcastically.
“The city can wait, home can’t.”
“Who are you?” I joked.
He was a far cry from the workaholic I met at the Langston Gala.
“Throw those jabs as fast as you’re running that mouth.”
“I hate you.” I threw another one, imagining his face on the bag.
Treason leaned in, tapping his gloves against mine, his voice dropping low.
“You’re stronger than you think. Put all that hate into your jab. Let’s go.”
I had a postpartum plan that would’ve had me back at my pre-pregnancy weight by the time Cyan was six months old.
He was a good baby, and we had plenty of help to make it happen.
Then a guest I hadn’t planned for showed up, tossing mine out the window.
Postpartum depression hit, making me snap, cry, and shut down while feeling guilty for all of it.
Now Cyan was seven months, and I still had fifteen pounds to go.
Treason didn’t mind the extra weight. In fact, it had him glued to my skin every chance he got.
I don’t even think the weight bothered me either.
In my mind, I equated my pre-pregnancy weight with my pre-pregnancy self until Inez told me it didn’t work that way.
I couldn’t ask for better support from her and Treason. They refused to let depression pull me under. Even though Sloane didn’t completely understand it, she encouraged me anyway.
Depression can’t hit a moving target. Keep moving, and it’ll get better.
So I showed up even when I didn’t want to, and today was definitely one of those days.
“Nobody’s in a rush but you. Keep your left hand up. Don’t drop it.” I swung again, sloppy, and he caught my glove, spinning me slightly to fix my stance.
I hit the bag again, harder this time, feeling my strength return with every punch. Treason moved behind me, guiding my stance, adjusting my feet, whispering in that low, dangerous tone.
“You’re sexy as fuck when you fight,” he murmured, circling me slowly.
Heat shot through me, the burn in my muscles blurring with something else entirely. I swung again, harder this time, to feel his approval.
“That’s it,” he groaned like my jab had touched something in him . “Good girl.”
That did something to me—made my chest ache and my arms sting a little less. Still, I shot him a glare.
“Stop. That’s how we got in this the first time,” I warned, damn near out of breath.
“Let’s get into it again,” he flirted, planting a quick kiss before tossing me the rope. “Sweaty and tired, you’re still fine as fuck.”
I hated jumping rope, and he knew it, but his encouragement made it easier to push through even when I felt like my legs would give out.
Do you even know how strong you are?
You created Cyan. You’re a big deal, baby.
The way he guided me was addictive. He was my biggest cheerleader and the only reason I survived another dreadful day in the gym with him as my trainer.
“You have the money. You should’ve just let me get on the table like everybody else.” I complained as I stepped off the elevator.
“We both know that won’t fix it. Good work today,” he replied, smacking my ass.
“Keep it up, and there will be another on the way,” Inez laughed, wiping Cyan’s mouth.
“It’s him!”
“You hear your Mama snitching on me?” Treason asked Cyan like he could reply.
Instead, he babbled from his high chair, making spit bubbles, while his eyes followed Treason to the refrigerator.
“How was the gym?” Inez asked.
“Hard!” I groaned, stroking Cyan’s cheek. “Has he been cranky?”
“A little, but food always does the trick. Keep an eye on him. I’m going to check on the laundry.”
All my weight gain and hard work for him to come out as a carbon copy of Treason felt like the cruelest joke. Thankfully, his daddy was fine, so that helped.
“Why does she think we need a reminder to watch him?” Treason asked, once Inez was a comfortable distance away.
“As much as she helps, she can say whatever she wants.”
“That’s crazy, choosing her over me.”
If there was ever a mother to emulate, Inez was it. She never made me feel stupid or less than for the things I didn’t know. Even if I grew tired of Treason one day, Inez and I were locked in for life.
The elevator beeped, and I halfway expected Fallon to round the corner. Instead, it was Sloane, in high-wasted jeans and a cream blouse, removing her sunglasses.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Girl, I’m not here for you. Where’s Glamma’s baby?” Sloane announced.
“I told you about that. Keep it up, and you’ll be back to asking for permission to get up here.”
A lesson she learned the hard way, criticizing my choice to breastfeed like it was her breast. On our first night home, she pissed me off so badly that I cried.
Treason didn’t hesitate, revoking her access to me, Cyan, and the penthouse.
After an apology, he warned her that if it happened again, he’d impose a lifetime ban.
That reminder made her correct herself, “I came for Blue , too.”
It might’ve been a joke to her, but Treason didn’t play. Cyan might’ve controlled our world, but I was the gravity that held everything together. Treason made sure that everybody knew that without me, their world would spin out of control.
“I’m going to shower,” he announced, using any excuse to distance himself from Sloane.
“Your six weeks have been up. He needs some pussy to fix that attitude.”
“Keeping you in check gets him plenty, and watch your mouth around my baby.”
She rolled her eyes, lifting Cyan from his high chair.
“It’s so many rules around here, Papa,” Sloane complained.
“You need rules.”
“Anyway, is Rayven still coming home this weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we can do dinner, unless there’s a rule for that too,” Sloane mocked.
“I’ll check with Daddy and let you know,” I replied.
She groaned, covering Cyan’s ears. “Are daughters supposed to talk like that in front of their mothers?”
“Girl, please, you do not wanna go there with me.”
“Have you set a date for the wedding yet?”
“I don’t think I want one,” I replied.
“Who doesn’t want a wedding?”
Sloane lived for attention, so passing up an opportunity to remind the city we sat at the top of the totem pole confused her. I didn’t need a fancy wedding to prove anything to anybody.
“Me. It’s an expensive headache, and neither of us has that many friends or family.”
She hated herself for asking. “What does Treason want?”
“Whatever I want.”
We chatted while Sloane played with Cyan until she got an important text.
She didn’t reply when I asked if it was Jaleb, but I knew it was.
Somebody else’s husband was the only person who could disarm Sloane and make her blush.
I didn’t understand it, but it wasn’t my business.
If Michelle was okay sharing her husband, who was I to object? I just knew I wasn’t sharing mine.
Treason left for the office, while I played with Cyan until it was time for me to shower and get dressed.
I hadn’t attended a Women’s League meeting yet that was actually worth my time.
Today’s was no different, but Daige was right.
It was a bad look if the First Lady didn’t attend, so I got dressed, kissed my baby, and drove downtown.
Zora was at the podium talking about something Daige and I weren’t listening to when Evina walked in, offering a sympathetic smile.
She’d finally given up hope of finding Lorenzo and began cleaning out his belongings.
In them was footage from the security system that forced her to confront the truth.
I was annoyed when it mysteriously leaked online.
Reliving your worst days in front of millions wasn’t easy, but I was happy to put it all behind me.
“Ohhh, what do you think about a race car theme?”
“I think Cyan’s not turning one for another five months,” I giggled, at her flashing me a picture on her phone.
“Time flies when you’re having fun, and Titi’s baby will not have a tacky ass party. I’m sparing no expense.”
“What does Abdul have to say about that?”
Daige’s face scrunched. “I wish he would bother me. I don’t say anything about how much money he wastes on those damn drones.”
“Did he ever find the last one?”
Daige brushed her forehead, “Don’t trigger me.”
Life showed me sometimes that the storm isn’t breaking you, but putting you back together.
That doesn’t always come wrapped in a pretty bow.
It’s challenging, painful, and scary. You may never be the same after that, but life showed me that not all change is bad.
Sometimes everything you want is on the other side of the changes you’re scared to make. Treason and Cyan were proof of that.