Other men being attracted to his girl never bothered Brixton, though he had the tendency to be possessive and jealous-hearted. He trusted Adrianna. He knew who he was and he was confident in his relationship with her. After all, she seemed to only have eyes for him.
As semesters turned into years, Adrianna met his family and became one of the most integral parts of his life. She was his friend, his lover, his future wife, and the mother of his future children, he thought. Then she went to Miami with her sister and her homegirls and turned both of their lives upside down.
He and Adrianna had been a couple since college and were engaged to be married. He didn’t think anything about her taking a girls’ trip. They were often separated for anywhere from weeks to months at a time, because of his job as a professional athlete and hers in the hospitality industry.
“I thought we were solid.” It had been his intention not to say much of anything. Honestly, what was left to say? The relationship was unsalvageable. “I thought you knew who I was. Who you had at home waiting for you.”
No sooner than the words left his mouth was he reminded of the bible verse his grandfather used to drill into his and his siblings’ heads:Romans 12:3 - Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought.
Clearly, that had been his mistake. He had presumed that his status in her life matched her status in his life. Well, she had shitted all over that idea.
“Brixton, nobody can compete or even compare with you. I don’t know what happened. The drinking, the edibles. I don’t know. The…” Her thoughts trailed off.
He didn’t pick them up.
“I really, really wish we could work this thing out. I don’t?—”
Brixton adjusted himself on the counter. “You and Tone Amsterdam are why we can’t work this thing out.” He stared into her eyes. “Are you even serious, right now?”
Adrianna was serious, but the look on his face told her that it wouldn’t make a bit of difference for her to admit that. She knew in her heart that Brixton was done with her. He had already disconnected from her emotionally and now he was disconnecting from her physically. Still, his name pushed through her lips on an anguished moan. “Brixton.”
“Yo, did you fuck somebody else, or did I?”
He twisted the knife that had been permanently lodged in her heart since that fateful night. The night she’d let a man who wasn’t her fiancé inside of her body. In the ten years she’d dated Brixton, she had never even entertained the thought of another man. But on a trip to Miami, she’d let a group of girls who sheknewenvied her situation goad her into returning Tone’s flirtations. High and floating off a combination of alcohol and edibles, she’d let their teasing and challenges convince her to allow Tone to get her alone in his hotel room.
She wanted to beat her own ass for the stupid choices she made that night. Sex with the well-known rapper had been mediocre… even in her high, inebriated state. It most certainly wasn’t worth risking her relationship with Brixton over. Her fiancé, well her former fiancé, was a master at handling her body. He knew exactly how to touch, tease, and taste her to giveher mind-blowing orgasms. Tone had provided none of those sensations. Adrianna had actually been relieved when it was over, hoping to take the secret to the grave and never think about it or mention it.
She rejoined the present conversation when Brixton continued with his pop-quiz.
“Did I get somebody else pregnant, or was it you who got pregnant by somebody else?” he asked.
That was the nail in the coffin of their relationship. Adrianna’s biggest mistake had resulted in an unwanted pregnancy that she would’ve remedied with a quickie abortion. Unfortunately for her, she mistakenly presumed that the baby was Brixton’s. The ultrasound revealed dates that didn’t line up with it being Brixton’s and she was forced to admit her infidelity.
Her voice was a whisper. “I… took care of that. Nobody ever had to know, Brix.”
“I knew, Adrianna. I knew. And I would know every time I looked at you—tried to kiss you, tried to have sex with you. I would know that some random nigga went up in you raw and left you the parting gift of his sperm fertilizing your waiting egg.”
For the millionth time since she admitted her slip-up to Brixton, Adrianna found herself overcome with tears from the hurt. All she wanted was to relive the day she’d fucked up and cheated on Brixton and avoid Tone Amsterdam. All she wanted was for Brixton to understand that she was human.
After more than thirty years of doing everything right, she made a mistake. She understood that it was a big mistake, but it was a mistake she would never make again. She just wanted him to forgive her, so they could start putting their relationship back together.
He jumped down from the counter, standing in front of her in all of his six foot eight inch glory. While her eyes took him in, all she could think about was how much she loved him. How hewas her everything. How he wouldn’t even consider giving her a second chance.
She swept at the tears that trailed down her face. There wasn’t any reason to let them continue to flow. They never moved Brixton. He would watch her cry, yell, scream, get snotty, beg—all of that. He never gave her any reaction. He never pulled her into his arms. He never told her that he still loved her. He never displayed any emotion. Brixton was like a robot in her presence. It killed her on the inside.
“Were you able to get all of your stuff? I’m getting up with the realtor this weekend. See how soon we can start showing it.”
His words sounded monotone and dry to Adrianna’s ears. That hurt her feelings, too, because they’d selected the house together. It was going to be theirhome base—the place they both returned to renew their weary bones when work was draining. It was where they were going to raise their future family.
“You don’t have to sell the house, Brix. You know you can continue to live here. I was always willing to move out.”
“I don’t want to live here. You think I wanna be confronted with all of the memories we made here?”
“So, you’re selling it to get away from memories of us… of me?”
His tone was weary. “I’m selling it because I don’t want you to have access to me, Adrianna. I don’t want you to know where I live. I don’t want you to show up at my new spot. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to know you.”
“If you’re trying to break me, you’re doing a really good job.”
