“She made the decision alone. I wasn’t staying around for that. I ain’t with that shit. I’ll never be with that shit.” Demi’s vehemence was felt. She could see it. He couldn’t hide it. Red eyes, tension bricking his shoulders, causing him to exist with frustrated fists, a stiffened back…Demi was disturbed in a way that only a lover could evoke.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” Lauren said. “You can stay here until you get your head together if you want.”
“You’re a great woman, Lo,” Demi complimented. “The fucking pastor is lucky.”
Lauren laughed. “You not gon’ let up on that, huh?”
“Fuck no,” Demi said, giving a half-hearted smile. “How the fuck you go from a gangsta to a pastor?”
“Ha ha,” Lauren responded dryly. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Demi.”
“Yeah a’ight, Lo. Night.”
Charlie had never gone to Lauren’s Instagram. Not once had she worried about subliminals or shade. Demi protected her from things like that. She never had to think twice about it until today. She scrolled through Lauren’s page, and her heart ached as she realized that Demi had gone running right back to his wife.
Pictures of the three of them dressed up and smiling stared back at her. A video of Demi taking out the trash that she knew he wouldn’t dare touch under any other circumstances. Their housekeeper took out their trash, and here his ass was hauling garbage out for Lauren. A late-night wine and vibe session was another post. Lauren, with her feet propped up on the coffee table while she sipped out a Versace wine glass and a football game played in the background. She spun the camera to DJ and Demi, who were attentively tuned in to the game. Family time. Lauren was broadcasting family moments and despite the ring on Charlie’s finger, despite the divorce papers, despite the big-ass house Demi had purchased her and the baby growing in her stomach, she had been reduced right back to the other woman. Demi had gone home, and Charlie’s body felt the throbbing betrayal in her bones. It was his level of comfort that offendedher most. He and Lauren had a shorthand when interacting with one another that only years in symmetry could bring about.
She had been torturing herself. Her sheets had been drowning her, weighing her down like an anchor to her ankle in a sea of white silk. All the while, he was playing house. Charlie was on her way to Lauren’s house before she could even use her better judgment. She knew she had no right to pull up to his ex-wife’s home. She and Lauren had never even formally met, and she knew this wasn’t the way they should finally meet face to face, but she was beyond logic. Reason took a backseat to heartbreak. She had fifty-three minutes to change her mind, but she still found herself pulling up to Lauren’s home. The sight of his car parked in the driveway was gasoline to her fire.
How could he come here? She had always heard that the energy she put out would be returned to her. It was just the way of the world, and sure enough, the hurt she had contributed to this very home had come right back on her.
How could he not come here? This was the family she had stolen him from. Pure adrenaline pushed her forward, and she exited the car. Her finger lingered on the doorbell before ringing it.
Knots of tension tormented her. She was sick. Sick that she could hear his voice and that he didn’t sound like he was even thinking of her, let alone sharing in her sadness. She rang the doorbell again. Again. Why the fuck wasn’t anyone answering the door? What was taking them so long? And what the fuck was so damn funny? Demi barely smiled, and a full-on laugh was rare.
Charlie turned and grabbed the porch railing because she was in so much agony she could barely stand up straight. This was the part she hated when it came to love, the part that made a fool of her, the part that had her out of character, desperately chasing after a man. Clearly, she had lost her mind. It wasback at the radio station where she had first discovered Demi’s whereabouts. If her mama had taught her nothing, she had taught her never to take a fight to someone’s doorstep, but here she was, fighting and shit…for love. Oh, what a fool.
When the door swung open, and DJ stood before her, Charlie couldn’t even force a smile. She couldn’t even pretend like everything was okay in front of him.
“Hey, DJ, can you go get your dad?” Charlie asked.
“DJ, who’s at the door?”
Just the sound of Lauren’s voice coming down the hall was enough to blur Charlie’s vision.
“It’s Charlie!” DJ said.
Within seconds, Demi was approaching the front door. His change of clothes shattered her.
Does he still have things here? Did he ever even move out?
At first sight, he hardened. His stubbornness presented anger first. He wanted to be nonchalant. He wished he didn’t care, but she was so fucking pretty, and her sad eyes pulled out his genuine emotion within seconds.
“Bird, you can’t be here,” he said softly.
“You can’t be here, Demi! Why are you here?!”
Lauren rounded the corner, a smug expression on her face as she sipped from a mug with the word MRS. on the front.
“Demi, get this young, messy bitch off the porch before I hurt her,” Lauren said calmly.
“Before you hurt who?” Charlie asked, pulling her neck back. “Who she hurting, Demi, cuz bitch I’ll…”
“You were really slumming with this little-ass girl,” Lauren said, laughing. Her unbotheredness bothered the hell out of Charlie.
“Lo, chill, take DJ and let me take care of this business,” Demi said.
“Business?” Charlie recoiled as he reached for her. “I’m business! Was it business when you were begging me to marry you? Was I business when you told me you hadn’t felt this alive your entire marriage?”
