“What about a hotel? Can’t we get a hotel?!” Isis suggested, almost begging.
“Isis…” I pinched the bridge of my nose to control my anger, “There isn’t a hotel around for at least thirty minutes. And what part of ‘I’m tired, and it’s fuckin’ dark outside’ do you not understand? Now, if you wanna go, cool. I’ll toss you my hoodie, open the door, point you toward the dark, freezing-ass woods, and wish you and yo’ ankles good luck. If the wolves don’t get you, the frostbite damn sure will. And if you do make it out alive, don’t ever hit my line again.”
Isis’s mouth fell open slightly, like she couldn’t believe I said that out loud… but I meant every word.
Cold. Final. No walk-back.
“So that’s settled,” I stated with finality, cutting through the silence. “We’restaying…but we’ll be outta y’all hair in the morning.” I looked at Chesteria. “That’s cool with you,C Baby?”
I said it on purpose—loud, clear, waiting, watching, testing—to see if she’d correct me like she did ol’ boy… but it didn’t come.
Chesteria’s eyes stretched in size. Shock slapped across her face like a memory just reached up and kissed her.
That’s what I wanted.
A little memory. A little ache. A little“Damn, say that again…”
“It’s cool,” she finally said.
“Iguessit’s okay,” Isis sassed under her breath, eyes fixed on Chesteria, silently assessing the level of threat.
Chesteria stared straight through her, probably thinking, I’ve already been where you wish you could go, and you ain’t got the shoes for it.
“What room do you have?” I asked Chesteria, sharp and to the point.
If she had that nigga inourroom there wasn’t going to be any calm left in me.
“We’re sleeping downstairs,” she responded, softer that time.
A little relief unclenched in my chest—just a little.
“We’ll take the upstairs,” I let her know. “I’ll be back. I’m ‘bout to grab a few things out of the truck.”
“Wow,” Isis breathed, trailing close behind, hips swinging like she was auditioning for the role of delusional side character. “I can’t believe we ended up at the cabin at the same time as your ex. Like, seriously, what are the odds?”
I didn’t respond. I kept walking through the cold air, like her voice was just wind noise… but that didn’t stop her.
“And she clearly still has feelings for you! Only a woman who would look at me like I’m something stuck to her shoe and keep cutting her eyes like she runs this whole place? Yeah, she still pressed. All that mouth? All that energy? There’s no way she’s over you! You saw how she was acting! That’s not ‘moved on’ behavior; that’s still-thinks-she-got-a-chance behavior or I ‘wish you’d pick me again’ energy!”
Isis laughed, like she said, had one up on Chesteria—not even close.
“I mean, did you see her face when she saw me? Whew. It was giving bitter and still stuck. Like, girl… you had him and lost him! Get over it!”
I stayed quiet, staring past her, wondering how someone could be so loud and so wrong at the same time. Chesteria wasn’t acting out of love; she was acting out of warning. And the fact that Isis didn’t catch that shit told me everything I needed to know.
When I reached the truck, I popped the trunk open and snatched my duffel out like I wanted to throw hands with it, too.
“So… which room are we taking?” Isis asked, too chipper, rolling her pink-ass luggage like we were on a damn honeymoon. “Themasterbedroom?”
“Fuck no,” I gritted.
“Oh. Is that roomspecialto y’all?” she asked with a scoff. “What? Y’all used to write love notes on the headboard? Do soul ties and backflips in there? Or you got vows written on the pillowcases? Is it thesacred temple of Chesteria? If so, I’ll make sure to tiptoe past it. You know… thinking about it, you never told me how long y’all were together or anything. I think I should know. That lets me know what I’m up against.”
Isis asked that shit like I was really about to vent to her about myex, mood, or fuckin’ thoughts, for a woman who couldn’t even read a damn room.
I stopped walking and turned my head just enough to let her feel the weight of my anger… and because I was tired of her yapping.
“Chesteria ain’t yo’ competition. Correction… you ain’t hers. But I ain’t yo’ nigga, so neither matters. The only thing you battling is reality… and that shit hittin’ you hard. So none of this lil’ imaginary rivalry even applies.Youjust talkin’, and she already lived it.”
