I’m married, but that’s not the only reason I don’t want to talk to him. I stare at Rakeem with this deep sense of sadness for the person I was when I was with him. I didn’t understand what it was like to be loved. To truly have someone support me. With Zeb, I don’t have to choose between our relationship or my career. He would kneel down and support me through becoming a nurse or…anything.I don’t have to shrink myself to be with him.
After everything I gave up to be with Rakeem, he couldn’t even love me back. He cheated on me. He didn’t want me properly while we were together…Why should I give him a chance now?Because he wants it? Because the dust has settled and now that things are going well for me he thinks he can weasel a way back into my life?
That man had better pray my husband doesn’t catch him in the doorway. My heart rate quickens as that instinctive thought intrudes into my head. I know Zebulon has a crazy streak and feels very little need to justify his craven desires for blood once he feels some type of danger or offense.
“I brought you flowers?”
He looks so pleased with himself. But my heart sinks. The red flowers are totally wilted and… Zeb got me new flowers a few days ago and hand-selected each rose for me at the florist. Even Rakeem’s efforts to win me back have the whiff of being… an after thought.
“I… I can’t accept these Rakeem. And you should probably go.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Our relationship ran its course and…” I can feel the old pain swelling in my chest. I’m trying to be respectful but… I just want him to go. “There’s nothing left here. I moved on.”
His face changes. I notice a flicker of darkness across his face and his hand tightening on the sad grocery store bouquet. There must have been happier flowers, even at the grocery store, but those weren’t the ones he chose. His tongue travels around the front of his jaw. My heart pounds as I hear the loud thud of the shower turning off upstairs.
Sound travels in this condo.
“If you don’t want to talk because of your roommate–”
“I don’t have a roommate, Rakeem. I’m married and I don’t want to–”
He scoffs. “What? You’remarried?”
The tone in his voice bothers me. My voice stiffens.
“You’d better go.”
“You’re no better than me then.”
“Rakeem. We’re done. We’ve been done.”
And it might already be too late for you if Zeb happened to look out the window and see whatever Uber or Citi Bike you rode in on…
“No way foryouto get married unless you were getting some the whole time,” he says, shaking his head. “I knew it.”
Knew what? Some shit he made up in his head?
“Good bye, Rakeem.”
He dashes the flowers on the floor and storms off. It’s like a series of invasive vines unclenching from around my chest. I watch him disappear and hear some type of animal-growl from the stairwell that makes me wince.
I retreat a step back into the house and pull the door shut, nearly jumping out of my skin when I hear Zeb’s voice behind me.
“Who was that?” he asks. I flinch and turn around.
“God, you scared me.”
“Isaac?” he asks, shaking the water out of his hair, which looks very silly when it’s all wet and spiky on his head. It’s hard to hold back a laugh at such a serious man having hair like this.
“No. They got the wrong address.”
“Okay,” he says. “Come here.”
I go over to him and Zeb hugs me, kissing me on the forehead. “If it’s someone I need to worry about, I’ll just check the security cameras and send the boys after him. Nothing to worry about.”
Fuck… I forgot about the cameras.
