“All roots, no flowers,” he responded. The valet pulled his car up behind hers and Demi tapped her thigh to get her to put them inside. “Let me know when you make it home,” he said as he shut the door.
“Will do.”
She pulled away and Demi gritted his teeth with bawled fists on top of his head before swinging at the air in angst. He was walking a fine line and he knew it was only a matter of time before things blew up in his face. He would have to figure out how to balance time with Charlie and time at home, because if he had learned nothing these past 48 hours, it was that not having Charlie wasn’t an option. The problem was, he couldn’t quite see his life without Lauren either. He knew it was wrong, but he promised himself he would try his hardest to make them both happy until he could figure out how to clean up the mess he had made.
Chapter 11
Where were you, Demi?”
The words were the first thing that greeted him as he entered his home. In the 15 years he had lived there, the air had never been so thick.
“Where’s D?” he asked. He ignored her question, partly because he didn’t like being questioned, but mostly because he needed time to think of how he wanted to respond.
“DJ’s with my mom,” she said.
“I told you I don’t like him over there like that if you not staying. Go get my son, man,” he said.
“Where. Were. You?” she asked. Lauren was sitting on the couch with her feet crisscrossed beneath her and a bottle of wine sat on the floor. It was half gone. Kendall Jackson before noon meant she was emotional, upset. The last time she had drank in the middle of the day, she had lost an important client and been fired from the event firm she had been working at for years. Demi had fixed that problem easily. He had put up the money to start her own firm. He was a 50 percent partner and the investment had paid off lucratively. This problem. This heartache, he couldn’t fix. He was the root, her root, and he had dug it up and planted it in Charlie’s garden so that she could have a bountiful harvest.
“I told you where I was,” Demi said.
“No, you gave me some vague bullshit about being out of town and promising to call, but guess who ain’t heard from you?”
Demi sighed and put his keys on the table and then walked around the living room to sit in the chair across from her.
“You happy with me, Lo?” he asked. It was a genuine question. He had thought they were happy, before meeting Charlie, before feeling happiness in her presence. He had thought he and Lo were just fine. Now, well, now he didn’t know what they were. Comfortable perhaps. Content in the familiarity of one another, but it wasn’t happiness. It couldn’t be because it was so different than what he had experienced all weekend. Charlie had that shit that made his heart hurt a little when she left him. Leaving her had put a fucking canyon in his stomach.
Lauren chuckled and shook her head. “You were with a bitch. Really, Demi? You were with a bitch? After all these years that’s the type of bullshit you on, now? You couldn’t just be like a normal-ass nigga and get this shit out in your 20s? You wait until you’re 33 to start acting stupid?” she asked.
“Ain’t no bitch,” He only semi-lied. Charlie wasn’t a bitch. She was different than any “bitch” Lauren would ever think to be worried about. She was the opposite of his type. A young woman, younger than anybody he would normally have the patience of dealing with. A beautiful soul that he was fortunate to even cross paths with. Nah, there wasn’t a bitch involved at all. Charlie was a gift. A kickstart to his dull existence. He had been getting money too long. He had been in this routine with Lauren for years. Life was on cruise control and Charlie was like pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor.
“Stop lying, Demi. I called the hotel. I asked for your room. They couldn’t give me a room number, but I know you had a room there because they confirmed it,” she said.
“You lost your fucking mind? Calling around for me and shit,” he muttered. “I had ten rooms there. We had people who needed to be accommodated, Lo. You know the deal.”
That seemed to deflate her anxiety some. It made sense enough. He was always accommodating some artist, some star, putting them and their entourage up in a hotel. The lie was solid. He saw relief in Lauren’s eyes. He was grateful for it. This didn’t feel good to him, holding hurt over her head. Lying. Giving what should have been reserved for her, to someone else. Demi prided himself on being a disciplined man, but Charlie had come along with her chaos and swept him up in her wild. Even the thought of her now in this moment made his chest ache. He wanted her. Demi wasn’t used to craving something and then depriving himself of it. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. So, he had to keep it one hundred with Lauren and end things. Damn, how could he end this after 15 years?
“You happy?” he asked.
“Demi, why is this relevant? Don’t try to change the subject,” she argued. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m just asking you, Lo. This ain’t about nobody else. Just me and you. Are you happy with me?”
“Yes! I’m happy, Demi! So don’t use that as some excuse to justify whatever you did this weekend. Like you were doing it for me! Like you were setting me free! I’m happy with you!”
It wasn’t the answer Demi wanted to hear and he hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck as stress crept up his back.
“Who were you arguing with in the hallway at the showcase?” Lauren asked.
Demi’s chest seized but he was good at poker, the panic never reached his face.
“The girl in the hallway,” Lauren kept going.
“Fuck you talking ‘bout, man?” he asked.
“Why do you think I showed up? I heard you were arguing in the middle of the event with a girl, Demi,” Lauren said.
“That was business,” he said. Lied. Demi couldn’t believe he was lying. People lied when they were afraid, and shit, maybehe was. Afraid of losing what he had known for so long. Afraid of hurting the woman he had practically raised. They were kids when they had met. She was his family. Yeah, he was scared as shit to lose that. The ringing of his phone and Charlie’s name on his screen pulled him to his feet.
