“No. I’m just saying.”
“Saying what, Xai? After you got the pitiful girl crying on the other end of those voice messages you stopped listening? Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. You’re putting words in my mouth, love.”
“Don’t call me that,” I spit, repulsed. “And for the last time, take your hands off me.”
He heeds my warning this time and drops his hands. When he steps back, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand then shake my head. This shit is unreal. I’m in total disbelief, even though the pain in my heart proves this is real, this is happening,and he’d done this to me. Xai listened to my messages, sought me out, made me break down my walls and fall for him, charmed my daughters, and had been keeping this from me the entire time.
Hurt, agony, and pain flood my body like a tsunami and I feel myself on the verge of vomiting again. I close my eyes, take a few deep ass breaths, and try to hold it together. I’m failing miserably at pulling myself together, but I can’t and will not give him the satisfaction of knowing he just destroyed me; he doesn’t deserve that.
He was there that night.
It was him who took her to the hospital.
When my eyes open, they land on him, standing arm’s length from me, holding the phone out. It’s broken, just like my heart. When it hit the floor, it opened and cracked at the spine.
“You keep it. You broke it just like you broke my heart. Hopefully you can hear the messages, because that’s the last time you’ll hear my voice.”
Before he can say a word, I open the door and dash down the hall out of his office. I rush past Trista, the other girl, and a few other workers in the lobby toward the wash bay. He’s behind me, calling my name, but I ignore him.Fuck him!I rush to my car. The driver door is open and thankfully my keys are inside.
“It’s not ready yet,” the man says and I just slam the door.
I start the engine, and before I can shift into drive, Xai taps my window. When my head momentarily jerks toward the tapping, I huff, disappointed at myself for even looking at him, then drive out of the bay. My tires screech as I pull out of the lot. Anger fuels my ride home. Agony doesn’t take over until I’m home and I close my front door.
Six days.It’s been six whole days and it still feels like my heart has been ripped from my chest. My physical, mental, and emotional state can only be described as in shambles. I’m starting to think agony and heartache are my fate. First, I lost my mom to what I thought was a tragic accident. That devastating loss obliterated my foundation and shattered my heart. After some time, thinking I’d started to heal, I learned the truth of her death and my soul left my body. Then, six days ago, the man who was healing my broken heart snatched it from my chest and stomped on it.
I’m a mess.
After discovering Xai was at the scene, had taken my mother to the hospital, and kept her phone, I crumbled. I blocked him, climbed into my bed, and cried as I replayed our months together.
It was all a lie. Hell, for all I know, I was a pity fuck. After listening to my most private and vulnerable moments in voicemails, he sought me out. He used the sacred information to make me fall in love and trust him. It was all a lie and he’s a master manipulator.
Pain pierced my body as all of my happy memories became tainted in my mind by the ugly truth. Thankfully, Kandi picked the girls up from school and kept them until late after I lied and told her I had a migraine. The shades and hoodie I wore when I picked them up were apropos. I kept the true reason for my bloodshot, puffy eyes to myself and I’ve kept it to myself for these past six, miserable days.
Each morning, ice cold hand towels have been deployed to reduce the evidence of all-night crying sessions. I make myselfdecent enough to get my babies ready and off to school. Around them, I’m still Mommie. They don’t see myintense sadness or despair. I shield them from my crying. I fight hard to not withdraw from them and conceal the fact that I’m utterly overwhelmed by my feelings.
When it is time to pick them up, I utilize my ice cold hand towels again to camouflage the morning and afternoon bouts with loss of appetite, fatigue, and restlessness from lack of sleep. I plaster a wry smile on my face and mask the fact that my heart is broken. Work is nonexistent. I took the week off in hopes that this would pass. Sadly, it hasn’t.
I’m mourning the loss of my mom, the loss of the piece of happiness I thought I’d found, and although I hate to admit it, the loss of him.
I’m a hot ass mess and can’t seem to get myself together.
It’s Sunday morning and I promised the girls I would cook breakfast. Takeout, drive-thru, and Munchies deliveries have dominated the week and my oven hasn’t been used. That ends now.
It’s after nine and I hear Romi and Averi are up. It’s time to be a semi-productive parent, which means it’s ice cold hand towel time. After dragging my aching body from my bed, I amble to the kitchen and fill a large white bowl with ice. As I’m walking back to my room, I overhear them talking, so I quietly stop to listen.
“I don’t know,” Averi says.
“But she’s sad,” Romi says.
“Really sad. I heard her cry again,” Averi says and my heart skips a beat.I haven’t been hiding as well as I thought.“I think she misses Nana. I miss her too.”
“Me too. Where’s Xai?” Romi asks and I lose another beat.She misses him too. This is why I didn’t bring men around them.
“I don’t know. I think he be working. He has a business.”
“Okay. I wanna see him.”
