“Nah,” she said, pullin’ the covers up. “My feet hurt.”
I smiled and shook my head ‘cause I knew she was bein’ petty as fuck. I kissed her one more time, deeper than the last, then walked out the room and headed toward the front door.
When it closed behind me, the mornin’ air felt different.
I knew my girl cared about me. I knew she was down for me in ways a lot of these females out here couldn’t be. But I also knew she wasn’t gon’ keep dealin’ with half answers and delayed introductions.
As I walked to my car, I felt that shit settle in my spirit.
If I wanted to keep my woman, I was gon’ have to bring her into my world for real, before she stopped waitin’ on me altogether.
Drahma Town
Two weeks later…
It was a real nigga’s birthday and I was celebratin’ the best way I knew how with a drink in my hand, a blunt lit between my fingers, and the whole lounge movin’, lettin’ me know the night was created just for me. The lights was low, the air was full of perfume, weed, liquor, and loud ass laughter, and every section in the spot had somebody callin’ my name, reachin’ for my hand, or shoutin’ birthday love like they owed me the world. The DJ kept yellin’ my name over the mic, talkin’ about Trill-Land’s finest in the buildin’, and every time he did the crowd got louder while confetti cannons blew silver and black paper through the air to match the all-black theme I picked for the night.
Women was everywhere and lookin’ too damn good for their own safety. My section alone had at least thirty women dressed in black satin, black diamonds, black lace, black bodycon dresses with cutouts all over the place, lookin’ like they had been hand-picked to test my discipline. Renza had them loud ones in his corner hypin’ each other up and Pressure had Pluto tucked up under him smilin’ soft like she was havin’ a good time but tryna calm him down at the same time ‘cause he kept mean-muggin’ every nigga who walked too close to her.
The club had set up my theme the exact way my cousins wanted it. A Blackout Bash with glow-in-the-dark ice cubes shinin’ in every drink and custom bottles with my name on ‘em sittin’ in buckets of smoke that rolled over the tables. Some of the baddest bitches entered a twerk contest on the left side and a seductive slow-wine contest on the right, and the winner of each competition paid a grip. It was organized chaos and every nigga in the room kept sayin’ only Kay’Lo would come up with some shit like this.
I leaned back into the soft black leather of my seat with my shades low on my face, lettin’ the smoke trickle from my mouth. I had on all black everything with leather pants that hugged every curve of muscle on my long legs, a fitted black tee that showed the outline of every tattoo on my chest and arms, and a chain that kept catchin’ the light every time I moved. My skin was warm and shinnin’ the way it always did when I drank, and the more I sat here, the more niggas kept walkin’ up tellin’ me happy birthday, givin’ me hugs, daps, bottles, and love like I was really that nigga. And I was.
But even with all that noise, my mind kept draggin’ itself back to the same place.
Toni’s ass…
I spent three fuckin’ weeks without her. Three weeks without hearin’ her voice or feelin’ her arms around my neck or watchin’her walk up to me talkin’ shit but lookin’ like the only woman I ever wanted to see. I tried shakin’ that thought every time it hit me, but it stuck to me like humidity in the summertime and I hated that it felt like she had my whole heart in a chokehold.
I lifted my phone without thinkin’, checkin’ the screen for what had to be the tenth time that hour. She ain’t tell me happy birthday. She ain’t pop out. She ain’t send nobody with a message. She ain’t send a drink to the table. She ain’t drop nothin’. My wife didn’t even tell me happy birthday and this was the woman who ain’t ever miss one. For the past two years she had went big for me. Last year she set up that private dinner with the violinists and the skyline view, and she fed me herself. I’ll never forget how she sucked my dick the whole night tellin’ me how proud she was of me. She spoiled me like a king and I loved the fuck out of her for it.
Now she couldn’t even text me two damn words. That shit hurt in places I ain’t even wanna acknowledge.
I took a longer drink, lettin’ the liquor burn its way down my throat ‘cause it helped numb the part of me that wanted to get up and walk straight out the lounge to go find her. I kept tellin’ myself I was done beggin’ ‘cause I knew what I did and didn’t do. I knew I was a good nigga. No matter what mistakes I made, I knew my heart and I knew how I loved that fuckin’ girl. That should’ve counted for somethin’. I ain’t understand how she could shut down for three whole weeks and act like I wasn’t shit to her.
“Get yo’ ass up,” Renza said suddenly as he yanked my arm.
“Nigga for what,” I muttered. I’m not movin’.
Pressure stood up beside him. “For all this love out here. You sittin’ here sulkin’ like a bitch when niggas came out for you.”
I closed my eyes behind my shades but I stood ‘cause they was right. I needed to get my ass up, and enjoy my night.
Soon as I got on my feet, the crowd lit up again. Niggas started callin’ out my name and women clapped and cheered while the DJ cut the music low and shouted me out again. A group of women walked in with sparkler bottles spinnin’ circles around me like they was usherin’ me into the next level of manhood and I smirked ‘cause yeah, this was my type of shit.
I shook hands, hugged people, let women kiss my cheek, and I walked through the aisle with my shoulders squared and my vibe way too calm for how chaotic the scene around me was. Every nigga dap I gave came with a compliment or a joke. Every female I passed smiled like she had seen a god.
But when I sat down again, that empty part in my chest showed right back up like it was sittin’ in the booth beside me.
I picked up my drink and swallowed half of it before I even felt it hit my stomach. The music got louder, the lights got lower, and the room got hotter the longer I sat there, and all it did was make my thoughts get louder too.
I leaned forward, got up and went to the bathroom. I pulled my phone out and stared at the screen for a long second before I typed.
Why you ain’t tell me happy birthday?
I looked at it again and hit send before I could talk myself out of it. I ain’t wanna reach out. I ain’t want to look weak. But Toni had me fucked up and I needed to know why.
A minute later, her message popped up.
