“I ain’t holding you hostage. But this shit ain’t settled.”
“And this is why I wanted to wait to see you.”
“Why? Cause you gotta stand in your shit?” I challenged.
“No, because I have to do it on your terms.”
“You had six months to do shit your way. Now, we gotta do it mine. Welcome home. What you wanna eat for breakfast?”
Her infamous pout formed on her lips as she sat back on the couch with her arms folded on her belly like she was guarding both herself and the baby. I shrugged because no matter how much pouting she did or debating, I wasn’t letting up on her ass. I wasn’t letting this drift into another situation where she decided running was the answer and distance made sense. And if she thought me making her stay home was too much, I couldn’t wait to see her reaction when I told her she wasn’t going back to Houston.
CHAPTER 7
There’s Still Love Under The Hurt
ADAI
Isat on the toilet, staring down at my French pedicure, with my phone in my hand, debating on whether I should call Pryce’s mother and tell her to come and get her son. I was too overcome with emotion, and now that he was holding me hostage and forcing me to face him, I felt like I had to say things I wasn’t prepared to say just yet. Silly me for actually thinking I could come back home and he’d give me at least forty-eight hours to get readjusted. I stayed in the bathroom after peeing longer than I needed to just to breathe. I needed a private space where I could hear my own thoughts and his presence wouldn’t overshadow them.
The words six months were now etched in my brain. The number held weight, and I was almost positive that Pryce wouldn’t let me forget that his presence was a lot to take in. He had a way of filling up the room without even speaking. It was the thing I loved about him but sometimes hated depending on the situation.
This morning was a lot, and although I was pissed at some of the things that he said, I knew it came from a genuine place of hurt. The way his face changed when he saw me standing in the doorway made me want to crawl under a rock. I expected anger.Actually, I expected something past anger. But the flash of hurt would forever be engraved in my memory.
There was a split second where it looked like something inside him dropped straight through his chest when his eyes landed on my stomach. The pain was evident, and I had put it there.
“Mommy was dead wrong,” I said with my hand on my belly.
At least the baby would give me some kind of grace because Pryce wasn’t letting up on my ass. Drawing my head back, I let out a deep sigh. I’d been in the bathroom longer than I intended. No sooner than I thought about getting up, I heard knocking at the door.
“Yes.”
“You good?” His voice came through steady.
“Yes,” I replied, matching his tone.
Silence followed for a second, and then he responded. “Aight. Come to the kitchen when you finish.”
“Come to the kitchen when you finish,” I mimicked quietly.
Once I heard him walking away, I pushed myself up off the toilet and washed my hands. Looking at myself in the mirror, I chuckled lightly.
“Let’s get ready for round three,” I said to my reflection.
Walking out into the hallway, I headed toward the kitchen. As I got closer, I slowed my steps a few feet away from the kitchen entryway when I heard him talking.
“I don’t like phone calls without prior clearance via text,”he said.“I believe I mentioned this to you before.”
My chest tightened. I didn’t have to rack my brain to figure out that there was another woman on the other end of the phone. His tone was controlled and familiar. He paused for a few seconds then continued.
“Right now is not a good time, Alexis. I’m dealing with some family stuff. I’ll hit you when my head is clear.”
I didn’t like that he was brave enough to take a call from a female in my house. Hearing her name activated the territorial part of me. And immediately, my mind went to imagining someone having access to him in ways that were once only accessible to me. I started to storm into the kitchen and cuss his ass out, but before I made a step, I paused, remembering that he knew about Trill. And I was sure what he’d seen in that one picture had created a hundred and one scenarios in his head of what I’d done with him. Even if it wasn’t true.
I hadn’t thought about how that moment outside of a restaurant in Houston would reach him all the way in New York. Pryce wasn’t a social media dude, and if he did browse, he damn sure wasn’t on The Shade Room. Trill really did too much this time. But for the sake of not having to replay what happened, I had to hold it down and play it cool. I walked into the kitchen just as he was closing the refrigerator door. In his hand was my butter dish and two slices of cheese.
He didn’t look surprised when he saw me standing there, nor did he put his phone away quickly like he’d been caught. He just looked… settled.
“Wassup?”
