“Again, I don’t understand. She had all of this and fumbled it? She just refused to take care of you?”
“Essentially and I couldn’t make myself want her. When we did have sex, I was strapped up, not wanting to bring a kid into that situation,” Khalif shared.
“Damn,” Aurora muttered. “Like, you never did what we did with your ex?”
“Nah,” he answered plainly. “She didn’t like the beast. You do.”
Aurora dryly laughed. “I got to get away from you before my head gets full of ideas.”
“Let’s say it did, just for a second. Humor me. What’re the ideas?”
Aurora took a few bites before leaning back in the low-back, leather-covered bench. She shrugged slightly. Dreaming about relationships was far and few between since she’d put all her focus into school, paying for school, and being available for her grandmother. “For starters? I would spend the night. Let myself believe that maybe falling in love could be beautiful and worth it. There could be support, partnership, companionship, or whatever. There could be more. But those are ideas I won’t entertain.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is to make you feel better. A rebound or a recovery, in your case. It’s for tonight. Not your life.”
“In the spirit of ideas…it doesn’t have to be for a night.”
“But in reality, I’m a stripper you met at your bachelor party, who crashed your wedding, let you hit it raw. That’s not a story that passes the night or gets told at family dinners or in interviews. I’m smart enough to know that I’m not your endzone. I’m just a play you’ll remember from time to time.”
Khalif took a long sip of his water. “You’re making yourself small. I don’t like that.”
“I’m being realistic, Khalif.”
“Mm, too beautiful to be lyin’,” he countered. “If we keeping it real, we’re keeping it real. You’re the personification of beating the odds. Even when everything was taken from you, you made a plan to get it all back on your terms. Second, you’re not a stripper. You didn’t take shit off and you didn’t let a nigga touch you. Third, you’re putting yourself through law school. So if we were living in ideas as you say, I’d cut that dancing shit short. Handle the rest of that balance so you can move through your studies with ease. I’d make sure you know that you’re worthy, appreciated, and as smart as you are beautiful.”
“That’s a big idea. In that idea, what would you require?”
“All of you. Your visibility. Your support. Your truth. You. The tears you cry in the shower, your worries and fears. Your joy. If you were filling your head up with ideas, that’s what I would want. What I’d need.”
Aurora filled her lungs and slowly released it. Following a long sip of wine, she hummed. “Too bad they’re just ideas.”
Before Khalif could answer, the front door flew open, and the family that had been looking for him most of the day had finally found him.
“Khalif Soloman Wright!” the older woman, Aurora, assumed to be his mother, cut around the corner.
Part of her was relieved they cleaned up behind themselves before resuming making dinner. The other part, annoyed because reality had put a pin in the inflated balloons of their ideas. Hell, their being here ruined any chances of her getting another taste of Khalif before leaving.
Khalif curled his lip in aggravation before standing up to keep his mother and sister from coming into the space fully and bothering Aurora. What happened between him and Khalil or him and Shenae was between them, and it had nothing to do with Aurora. He wouldn’t allow her to take any heat.
“I got company. If y’all want to go off and tell me what I needed to do, try to do it tomorrow if I’m free,” Khalif spoke.
“If you’re free?” Mrs. Wright scoffed. “I am your momma. I let you tear up a church and run off, but you will not disrespect me.”
Khalif repeated himself. “I got company.”
“Boy, you think we care about some stripper bitch your wayward friend hooked you up with?” his sister sounded off.
Aurora snapped her fingers and took her cue to leave. Moving her sore body away from the table, she went to the opposite side of the kitchen to make her way into the foyer. The evidence of how they’d spent their time was in the too-big sweatsuit she wore.
“How much you pay her?” his mother scoffed, attempting to get a rise out of Aurora.
Aurora, looking past two causes of Khalif’s angst, spoke to Khalif. “Take care of yourself.”
“The hell you will,” his sister chimed in as Aurora started toward the door.
Khalif was on her trail. At her car, he stopped her. “I’m sorry about them.”
