Syx left yesterday early afternoon, which was best for the both of us, because I'd be tempted to let some slick slip from my tongue. The sight of him would make me gag. It's bad enough that his scent was still lingering around the room.
"Do you need anything Ms. Nyne?" The nurse peeked her head in and asked with a glow on her face.
"Not at all, thank you though," I said back and wiped the smile off my face when she left.
All while I'd been here she'd been lingering around just to talk to Syx. The wide hip, wall-touching bitch would do slick shitand bend over in front of him, but not that Syx paid her any attention. It was filthy the levels she was taking it. I don't doubt if he fucked her or haven't thought about it. I don't put shit past him.
"Who was that?" My mama moseyed around in my business on the other end. I was trying to do my due diligence and call her to let her know that I was okay during the storm and not to worry, but a five-minute phone call turned into a thirty-minute one.
"I'm ordering room service," I lied. It was the only thing I could think of.
Telling her I'm in the hospital would be like revealing my divorce to Malcolm all over again. She'd riddle me with a million questions, though I know she'd mean well. I don't have time for the headache.
"You're coming home next week right? Easter is right around the corner and you have to help me decorate."
"Ma, I'm not dealing with your shenanigans and Easter isn't until next month," I spat, while packing the last of my things.
"I know, but they're already putting out some really cute stuff. I went to Walmart, Dollar Tree, and Hobby Lobby and snagged some cute stuff," she gushed.
"You 'bout ready to go?" Syx entered the room, his voice booming, causing me to jump scare.
I popped my neck so hard when I glanced up that I heard it crack. There was no escaping him at this point and I thought I made myself clear yesterday. He was making this so difficult.
Syx looked clad in a cream wife beater and black Nike breaker swim shorts. When he inched further into the room, suffocating me, I got a glimpse of the 9060 mushroom-colored New Balance laced on his feet. He looked like he'd been in the gym, the way his upper extremity was slightly damp, unless hejogged all the way here. He hadn't mentioned the mile radius being far from the beach house.
"Who is that? Is that a man? I thought you already ordered room service?" My mama's voice shrieked.
"Ma, let me call you right back." Before she could protest, I hung up the phone and stuffed it away in my Brandon Blackwood Micro Nia purse.
"Nyne," Syx called out, as he inched further into the room.
Ignoring him was best, but that didn't stop him from proceeding to grab my things and I let him. I wasn't struggling to carry multiple bags. Furthermore, I didn't know where we were or how to get around.
Before exiting the hospital, the wall-touching nurse gave me my discharge papers and told me to do a follow-up with my doctor immediately once I got back to the States, but to remain hydrated.
The whole ride back to the beach house, I said nothing to him. Our Uber wasn't playing music either. The only thing that could be heard was my stomach constantly growling that I couldn't hide. It was so embarrassing.
Arriving at the house, I exited the car without waiting on him and let myself in. Thankfully, I had a key, so I didn't have to wait on him further. My attitude was on ten as I sauntered upstairs to pack the rest of my things so I could leave first thing tomorrow morning. I'd already booked my flight at the hospital.
Petty as hell, he took his time tipping and talking to the driver, though he said nothing to him the entire ride. I didn't have a key so I couldn't let myself in and as far as I knew, there wasn't another entryway in the house where the doors would be unlocked. We hadn't been here in a few days, so I'm sure there was no need for him to keep it occupied. With my attitude rising, I waited for him.
Nearing me, I could see him staggering on those bowed legs without an ounce of rush, just a cocky smirk. I stepped aside so he could unlock the door and rushed in, damn near going up the stairs two at a time, so I could finish packing my things. My flight was in two days and it seemed further away than it should've. How did it go from two weeks to two days? I needed to get away from this island though and most importantly, away from him.
I could hear him moving around downstairs. He was making noise on purpose to annoy the hell out of me, being petty and pushing my buttons. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. He was opening and closing cabinets, running water longer than he should've, and stomping heavy on the floors. Every sound made my chest tighten and I was badly fighting the urge to ask him what the fuck his problem was. I chose the latter, because we needed the space and I was doing everything in my power trying to avoid him.
I started the shower water after putting my hair in a bun and got undressed. The duration I spent in the hospital felt lengthy, and I needed to wash off all the germs. Granted hospitals are supposed to be the cleanest places on earth, but after being poked and prodded, I needed to realign my thoughts and a good shower always does it for me.
Exiting the shower, the mirror was foggy. Purposely I stayed inside longer than I should've, giving him ample time to leave, because there was no need for him to linger around when I didn't want him here. When I finally emerged an hour later, he was nowhere to be seen and I was thankful for that.
Nosily, I moseyed inside the kitchen to see what he was cooking, or if he'd prepared already. The kitchen was clean and intact, which proved my accusations to be right. His childish ass was banging and slanging pots around for nothing. If anything, I won't do is play around the kitchen, so I decided to throw down. That hospital food was decent but it wasn't good and I could feelmy stomach touching my back, so I decided to whip something up, just for me.
I seasoned some chicken thighs with paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne, and a touch of Old Bay. Then I set them in a cast-iron skillet with olive oil, letting them sizzle and pop. The aroma filled the kitchen. It was savory, rich, and comforting. After doing a taste test, I chopped up some cherry tomatoes, crisp romaine, cucumbers, and red onion for a salad. The lemon vinaigrette was made from scratch that I whisked perfectly until it emulsified.
Then I made some jasmine rice, getting it fragrant and fluffy after adding a bay leaf and pat of butter to the pot and let it steam until each grain was separate and perfect. Syx's silence wasn't a distraction, but his presence would've been. I wouldn't have been able to cook like this had he been waltzing around the kitchen. Though part of me wanted to know what he was doing.
Catching my attention, my phone rang, making me scurry across the kitchen to retrieve it off the island. It was an unknown number, and I left it unanswered until whoever it was called again, making me grow curious.
"Hello," I answered, not bothering to hide my irritation.
