18
Sean
It was done. Niya and I were official. Together forever. I thought. I hoped. But I didn’t rest well that night. Niya’s love was sitting right on top of my heart, along with the confession I needed to make that might cause her love to dissipate.
But can true love do that? Can it leave in an instant? Or does it just morph into hate? I’ve heard old people say things like, “It’s a thin line between love and hate,” and “You can only truly hate what you used to love.” Would it be like that between me and Niya once she learned the truth? Maybe I should leave all that stuff in the past and keep moving forward.
I tossed and turned, before throwing off the duvet cover. I rolled out of bed and got on my knees. Hands clasped, I prayed to God like He was my best buddy holed up with me in the trenches, ready to fight an unseen enemy at a moment’s notice.
“God, I know I’m not perfect, but I try to live up to Your standards. Niya and I love each other and she looks at me with so much trust, I can’t let her down with the truth of what happened to Jhavon. I don’t want to tell her, but I can’t live with myself if I don’t.”
I opened my lips but no words came out. I was stuck. Frozen at that last statement.I can’t live with myself if I don’t.
If I couldn’t live with myself, I wasn’t going to be able to live with Niya. Or Jazzy. Or the children Niya and I would have someday. Or our grandchildren. Everything would be built on a lie by omission, and Niya would feel as though I’d tricked her into thinking I was someone I wasn’t. She’d take the kids and leave me, and I’d turn into a drunk old fool hanging out on a street corner singing that old song, “Used to be My Girl.”
I buried my face in my hands, still kneeling before God. “How, God? When? Where?” I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do.”
My tongue loosened and I went deep into conversation with God, spitting out all my feelings to Him.
During my prayer, I felt transported back to my school days when the teacher told us if you explained the ‘5Ws’ and ‘how’ in your research paper, the reader would understand your idea. Following that strategy, I had earned good grades on all my writing assignments.
That’s when it hit me: That’s what I needed to do with Niya. Be up front, answer all the ‘W’ questions and the ‘how’ so she’d understand my truth. I bunched my fists. I would do it. As soon as we got back home and settled into our new “us,” I’d tell her everything.
I hunched my shoulders. “Okay, God. Thank You for the revelation. Give me strength.” I stood and yawned. My body felt like it had been at the bottom of the train tracks. I trudged back into bed to get a few hours of rest.
“You got everything?” I asked as we checked out to catch an early flight back to Texas.
She mumbled something that sounded like, “Yes.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked her once we were inside the Uber.
“Yeah. I’m not much of a morning person,” she explained.
Somehow, that fact amused me. “Are you like thiseveryday?”
She shrugged and leaned on my shoulder. “Pretty much. Takes me, like, an hour or two before I’m ready for conversation with people.”
“Duly noted.” I smiled almost the entire journey to LAX airport. My future wife was not a morning person. I’d have to show her the error of her ways.
Challenge accepted.
Though we were mostly silent, Niya and I moved in sync now, like the married couples I noticed in the airport. They stood next to one another, walked alongside one another, shared sips of each other’s drinks, moving in and out of each other’s spaces without a second thought. The only things Niya and I were missing were the wedding bands and the matching luggage. One day, however, that wouldn’t be the case.
We navigated through the security-check line in under 20 minutes. Since we had some time before the flight departed, Niya and I sat in a nearby lounge after getting smoothies.
“Sean.” Niya said my name in her sweet timbre, after finishing her pineapple-mango smoothie. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her eyes darting back and forth across mine, fear written in the line between her eyebrows.
My chest tightened. I finished my drink. “What’s up?” I gestured for her to speak.
She licked her lips. “I was looking at the picture of Jhavon again this morning and...for some reason...I thought about when Marshall said he couldn’t believe I was with you after the way Jhavon died.” She cocked her head. “What did he mean by that?”
My cheeks prickled with heat.God, this is not the ‘when’ we discussed last night.I cleared my throat. “Niya, it’s...let’s not talk about it right now.”
She shook her head and looked at her watch. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you for another hour.” She touched my arm and added, “Whatever it is, I can take it.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Was my brother...involved in something we didn’t know about? Did he owe somebody some money? Was he doing things—”
I had to interrupt. “No, no, Niya. Jhavon was as square as they come.” My guilt intensified when her shoulders relaxed and she exhaled with relief.
“Oh thank goodness,” she said, fanning herself. “Because I didn’t know what to think.”
