“I agree,” Range protested.
“He needs time.”
“He told you that?” Range asked.
“Yes.”
“And since when did we start listening to niggas?” Roulette wanted to know.
I shrugged.
“You talked to him?” Rather inquired.
“I’ve called. He sent me to voicemail. Hours later he texted. Said he’s busy. Needs time.”
“Then give him time. I imagine it was not easy finding out–”
“He hired her. Then he fell in love with her. He’s not upset with her for doing her job. She promised him the election and kept her promise. It’s something deeper. Something he’s dealing with. And until he’s dealt with it, he will require time. Allow it. But, not too much time,” Roaman expressed.
“Or you could go get your man,” Roulette emphasized.
“Voluntarily or involuntarily.” Rugger lowered her fork onto her plate.
I shook my head.
“I agree with Roaman. He had to have known I would do everything in my power to get him in that office. We fell in lovein the process. Still, I had a job to do. Even if that meant hurting his feelings.”
I lifted the martini to my lips and sipped.
“It’s just that I’m ovulating and– the dick… I need it more than my next breath.”
Cackling broke out around the table. Now, everyone understood my pain a bit more. We were women in our thirties, most of us at least, we understood the torture of ovulation.
I rubbed a hand across my chest, hoping the pain would subside. Ishmael’s face flashed before me as I closed my eyes. The anguish in his eyes. The disappointment on his face. The defeat in his stride.
My yearning cut me deeper every day. Whatever was happening between us, I despised. My calls were no longer going through. Neither were my texts.
I missed his voice. His touch. His laughter. His hands on my body. His head against my heart. Six days felt like a lifetime of silence.
“Ro?” Range called out. “Are you asleep?”
I wasn’t sure if the film was watching me or I was watching it.
“No.”
My bed reminded me of Ishmael’s absence. I crawled into Range’s night after night.
“Are you okay?”
I sucked in air and released it slowly.
“No. No, I’m not,” I admitted.
My eyes burned with tears. I wiped them away before they could fall.
“Aw, babe. You want to talk about it?”
Shrugging, I revealed, “I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about.”
