“I know,” I say, then attach the lid.
“And when you get back, we are going to talk about that sexy patient,” she says with a wink.
I was so amused by Xai that I’d called her last night and told her about him. She insists all words and actions said while high or intoxicated hold some truth.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Or there is. When he comes back next week, be ready.”
“Please,” I huff, then hug her. “Thanks again. Now, go back to bed. I can let myself out.”
“Tell Rush I said kiss my ass,” she utters before walking out of the kitchen.
When she leaves, I place my cup on the counter then go to her bathroom in the hall. Once inside, I make myself pee because I loathe using public bathrooms. Back in the kitchen, I place my cup in her microwave and reheat it for thirty seconds, then I leave, letting myself out.
For the entire ride, I rehearse my words to Rush a million times. Since he’s been locked up, I’ve painted him as a hero to my girls. For their birthdays, I bought cards and forged his signature. On Christmas, they always open a gift from him, paid for and picked out by me. I’ve always made him out to be the good guy, a good dad who just had to be away from his girls. However, he fucked it up. He has shown them who he really is and I swear that last visit was it. I’m not lying to them anymore. Any relationship he has with them will have to be one he cultivates when he gets out and they are old enough to decide if they even want him to try.
My bladder is cooperative for most of the trip but I have to stop as soon as I make it to Diamond Falls. There’s a C-Mart a few blocks from the exit so I drive there. They are huge, have a good coffee selection, and usually have clean bathrooms. Since it’s already seven-thirty, I rush inside, relieve my bladder, wash up, and double check my appearance. Naturally, I had to make sure I looked damn good. While cursing his goofy ass out, I want him to see what he will be missing. The petty in me has to do it.
Pleased with myself, I rush back out, hop in my ride, then drive the last ten miles to the prison. The visitors lot is almost full but I luck up on a spot in the middle, get out, and join the small line to get inside.
It takes me twenty minutes to sign in, pass through security, and walk into the area. The large room reminds me of a school cafeteria with extra security. Several correctional officers are placed strategically throughout, patrolling the large and small round tables, vending machine area, and kids room. I spot Rush at a small table toward the back. He’s dressed in his DOC brown with his long locs hanging down on both sides of his face. He spots me too, and when our eyes lock, he has the nerve to smirk.
What did I ever see in this man?
I roll my eyes and walk over to him. When I reach his table, he stands and tries to step toward me for the allowed start of visit contact. I raise my hand to stop him.
“Damn, it’s like that?” he scoffs.
“Would it be any other way?” I snap back, then sit down across from him, bypassing the chair next to his.
“Then, bitch, where the fuck are my kids?” he grits the moment my butt is in the seat.
“See,” I say, then raise my pointer finger. “That is exactly whymydaughters are not here. I will never bring them, and as a matter of fact, this is my last time too.”
He scoffs then shakes his head dismissively. His hand lands on my arm resting on the table and he grips my wrist. “This brand new shit is really starting to piss me the fuck off,” he says through clenched teeth, as if he has some authority.He doesn’t.
“Either let my hand go or I’ll scream and have these C.O.s running over here,” I tell him while staring at his unwanted hand on mine.
“You wouldn’t,” he says and I smirk.
“You really don’t know me, do you? I for sure will do just that. And I could give two shits what happens to you when I do. Try me,” I warn.
His eyes bounce to mine and he stares for a brief second. I’m guessing he sees my intent and seriousness because seconds later, he releases my wrist.
“Don’t think that means anything,” he says.
“It means everything. You have no control in my life anymore. I’m not that same nineteen-year-old girl you first met. You changed me. Your selfishness, abusive words, nasty ass attitude, and sense of entitlement changed me. So thank yourself for that. You’ve shown me time and time again what a man isn’t, what a father isn’t, and what a partner isn’t and I see it. I see you.”
“You are exactly where you need to be. Here and alone. Stop calling me. Stop having your people call me and stop thinking I owe you shit. I regret everything I ever gave you—my love, my consideration, my mind, my heart, and my body. The only good things out of my years with you are my two beautiful girls and I’m not going to hurt them by continuing to try and build a relationship with you that you not only don’t want but for damn sure don’t deserve. I wish you the life you so selfishly earned, pure hell. Go straight there and rot,” I say then raise my hand, signaling to the C.O. that my visit is over.
The entire time I speak, he just stares, muted. I think he’s in shock or surprised but I don’t care either way. My days of caring for or about him ended two years ago. Today is just the most-needed final step. I wanted him to see my face when I told him how I truly felt.
His eyes move to my raised hand then back to my face. With a tight ass scowl, he glares then grabs my wrist again. “I think you forget who the fuck I am,” he barks.
“No. I didn’t,” I assure him then glare at his hand. “I know exactly who you are. A fucking inmate. A goofy-ass in jail ’cause all he knows how to do is take what isn’t his. Yeah. I knowyou. You’re Rushmore-Piece of Shit-Roberts,” I grit then yell, “Guard!”
His eyes stretch to the size of golf balls when I scream and he immediately loosens his hold and snatches his hand back. The male C.O. a few tables behind Rush steps over and slaps his hands on Rush’s shoulders. The look on Rush’s face is murderous but I don’t give a fuck. He can’t do shit to me.
