“That’s not a bad thing,” Lauren whispered. “Maybe we can heal each other. Whatever’s broken in you that you’re afraid I’m going to hurt again…Maybe this can be good for us both because this is the closest I’ve felt to non-suicidal in days.” He was hard for her. His need pressed into her so deliciously that it made her short of breath. Her hands caressed the back of his neck, and he tensed at her seduction. She wasn’t even trying; her femininity just oozed from her and onto him. He wanted it. She felt it. She smelled it. She squirmed in his arms, desperate for contact, for these clothes to disappear so he could transport her to another dimension.
“This ain’t healing, Lauren. This is gonna make it worse,” he hissed in her ear before helping himself to a handful of her. He gripped her ass mannishly, pulling her into his girth, temptation pushing his morals aside, biblical decorum out the window.
“It can’t get any worse,” she panted as she kissed his lips. His tongue tasted like a green apple Jolly Rancher, and she sucked on it as she kissed him greedily.
“Shit’s fucked up,” he whispered.
“So fucked up,” she moaned between tastes. Her hands were everywhere, pulling his shirt over his head and slipping her hand down the waistband of his joggers. His dick pulsated in her hand as she stroked him. He caught her wrist and pulled back suddenly.
“Lauren.” The sternness in his voice brought a stop to her conquests. “This isn’t going to help.”
She pulled back from him, snatching her wrist out of his grasp.
“I’m really tired of people telling me what is and isn’t going to help,” she snapped. She snatched up her coat, and Nyair grabbed the other end of it, stopping her from walking away.
“Lauren!” he shouted. She stopped walking but refused to face him because now, on top of being horny, she was humiliated. “I’ve been a dog about women before. I’ve lied to them, cheated on them, told them what they wanted to hear, slept with multiple at a time, gaslit them, and taken advantage of their insecurities. I’ve weaponized sex before, trading their emotion for my satisfaction and then discarded them after I was over it. Trust me when I tell you this won’t make shit better. I’m not that man anymore.” He stepped up behind her and caressed her arm, running a finger down her skin, making goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. He reached around her body with both arms, hugging her from behind, and grabbed her hands. She held onto him for dear life as he kissed the nape of her neck.
“Pray with me, Lauren.”
Lauren broke as she bent her head in shame as Nyair whispered the softest prayer in her ear. Her sobs were so loud that she almost couldn’t make out what he was saying, but she trusted him to lead her.
“Amen,” he said when he was done. She turned and hugged him, bawling, and he held her. He held her like he loved her. At that moment, no one could convince her that he didn’t.
“I need to leave,” she whispered. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Nah, you just need to rest.” He removed the coat from her hands and grabbed her hand, leading her to his bedroom. He pulled her down onto his bed, and she laid her head on his chest. “Close your eyes.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“You can. You won’t get to see your son in many places. You’ll always see him in your dreams. Your dreams are gifts. You deserve to rest and spend time with your son in your dreams. Sleep, Lo.”
“That’s really nice to think of it like that,” Lauren whispered.
She wrapped her arm around his torso, and he tightened his grip on her. “I don’t have a church for the service. My own pastor turned me away today. Apparently, my public divorce is too scandalous for the Christians,” she said. “What kind of mother can’t find a place to hold her child’s funeral?”
“I think I know a place,” Nyair said. The kiss he planted on her forehead ironed out the wrinkles that had settled there over the past few days.
“I can’t ask you to…”
“You didn’t ask,” he said, settling the matter. “And your pastor ain’t shit.”
“Thank you, Ny.” Lauren’s sigh of relief was reward enough for Nyair.
“Don’t mention it,” Nyair responded. “Now sleep.”
And that she did.
Chapter 9
Charlie couldn’t stop staring at the ultrasound picture. She was both excited and terrified, but above all, she was enraged. Or was she disappointed? She was so many things. Demi had hit her with a “something important came up.” Something important? As if she was asking him to come by on a whim for casualties instead of on behalf of the child he had planted inside her. Charlie wished she could get high right now. A little weed and her guitar would take all her worries away.
By the time Demi called her back, the appointment was over. She hadn’t answered, and he had been calling her since. Charlie didn’t know what to say to him, so she opted to say nothing at all.
“Bird!”
His voice boomed through the house, and Charlie didn’t flinch. She tried to remain calm, but she could feel every step he took in her direction. So much anxiety filled her that it felt like she might faint. Her stomach tightened as she willed herself not to give Demi her tears.
“Bird, baby…”
