“How’d you know I was in Houston?”
“You never turned your location off.”
It would be me to leave access to my location open without remembering that I had.
“Besides,” he continued, “had I called, you would’ve come back.”
I blinked and cocked my head to the side. “What?”
“You would’ve came back,” he repeated. “And whatever you needed to figure out mentally when you left me, you wouldn’t have gotten it. Shit, I wouldn’t have gotten it.”
His words hit that space in my heart that needed mending. His answer meant that he understood the message that I thought had been going over his head all this time.
“So, you do get it.” My throat tightened.
“I’ve always understood what you needed. It did take you leaving for me to fully get it.”
From where I stood, it seemed like he needed to be drunk in order to tap into this vulnerable side. They said a drunk mind spoke sober thoughts. I would take it as it came right now.
“I get that shit that I felt was small was big to you. Like me having the last word and not being open to hearing anything that sounded like it went against what I felt. I get that being heard and considered in all things makes you feel safe. I get that my way of doing things isn’t always the right way of doing things.”
“Do you love me?” I asked out of the blue.
“Yes.”
“Enough to compromise?”
He shook his head, and that truth stung without him having to say it verbally.
“I love you enough to sacrifice.”
I frowned. “What’s the difference?”
He stepped closer. “Compromise means that somebody’s giving something up even if they don’t believe in it,” he said. “Solely for the purposes of making something work.”
“And sacrifice?” I asked quietly.
“Sacrifice means I’m willing to prioritize what we both need to survive in this relationship. Not just what makes me feel right in the moment.”
“And you’re willing to do that for me?”
“I’m willing to do that forus. But it’s something we have to build back up to.”
“And that looks like what?” I asked, appreciating that he had a plan.
“It looks like me listening more. Moving different and being more receptive. Making sure you never feel like leaving me is the only option you have.”
I nodded. “What do you need from me?”
“I need you to stay even when I get it wrong, especially when you know I’m a work in progress.”
I considered what he said in silence. “I don’t know if that’s fair. It sounds like you’re bounding me to you.”
“If there’s a nigga to be bound to, it might as well be me.”
A smirk pulled at my mouth before I could fight it. “I don’t know what I’ma do witchu.”
“I got an idea,” he said, licking his lips. “You can show me why niggas be ready to kill over they baby mamas.”
