She took a step toward me, her eyes heavy and certain. I looked at her, then looked toward the stairs where my daughter was sleeping.
“Go to sleep Amina,” I said, my voice dropping flat. “I’m not stupid enough to let you trap me a second time.”
“Didn’t nobody trap you,” she fussed. “It takes two to make a baby.”
I didn’t respond. We’d been having this same argument since the DNA results came back and neither one of us ever said anything new. I turned my back on her and headed for the stairs.
As I climbed, all I could think about was Nique. If I hadn’t been so reckless things would look completely different right now. She’d probably be in this house, carrying my name, building the kind of life she used to talk about wanting.
I wanted to blame Amina. It would have been easier, but I was a grown man and I had walked into that situation with both eyes open. I had no one to blame for my empty bed but myself.
I walked back into Demi’s room and lowered myself into the rocker. My daughter’s chest rose and fell in the dark, slow and steady, completely unaware of the mess her father had made of things. She was my heart. She was also a daily reminder that I had traded something real for something that didn’t mean anything, and I was still paying for it.
Chapter three
Flat Water
Back in the day, coming home in the wee hours would have been unthinkable. I used to live on the Northside, in a house that was more affordable than it was safe. I was grinding then, working as a medical billing specialist by day and hustling my body care line on the side just to keep the lights on. In today’s economy, the numbers didn’t add up. My three-bedroom house in the hood cost the same as a shoebox, one-bedroom apartment in Midtown.
When I met Kel everything changed for the better. Her occupation as a welder afforded her the luxury of living in asprawling four-bedroom in Semmes. My twin brother Nel used to joke and tell me to be careful because lesbian relationships move fast. I wasn’t ashamed to say he was right. In just six months into our relationship, Kel asked me to move in. I was hesitant at first, but when she told me I didn’t have to pay a dime in bills I was sold.
That freedom allowed me to quit the corporate grind and turn my side hustle into a career. My business Botanique was quickly becoming a popular name across Mobile and Baldwin County. I was known for my luxury oils and soaps.
Kel hadn't just given me a home. She had funded my dreams and I was thankful for her.
“It smells good in here, baby,” I said, stepping into the kitchen, the scent of bacon and waffles heavy in the air.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her full lips. She was shorter than me, a tiny detail that teased my subconscious every day. Luckily that was her only flaw. At least her only physical one.
At first glance, Kel looked like a pretty boy. Light skin, tatted up, always in something masculine, with a sneaker collection that could embarrass most men.
She was fine as hell, but she didn’t fit what I usually went for. Like most people, I had a type and she was the complete opposite. Tall, dark, and handsome had always been my lane.
“It will be done in a minute,” she said, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her nose crinkled as she pulled back. “Why do you smell like cologne?”
The question felt pointed, even though her voice was gentle.
“One of the dancers gave me a lap dance,” I said, offering the sanitized version of the truth. I didn’t mention being hoisted into the air or how my body had reacted.
“Go take a quick shower,” she said, turning back to the stove. Her words were not a suggestion but an order wrapped in care. “I don’t want that man’s scent on my sheets.”
I padded down the hall toward the bathroom. I should have felt like the luckiest woman alive. I had a beautiful home, a growing business, and a woman who adored me enough to have breakfast ready. Something was missing though—something I wasn’t ready to put my finger on and admit to.
In the bathroom, I stepped out of my little black dress, letting it pool at my feet before discarding my bra and thong. I stood in front of the vanity, studying the woman I had become. I was proud of myself. I was resilient and still standing after so many trials. From being abandoned by my mother to losing my first love in a way that never should’ve happened. Luckily I didn’t look like what I had been through.
I did the therapy thing for a little while, but I never did connect with any of my therapists. After the third one I decided not to look for a fourth and picked up a hobby instead. I started making soap. It started with seeing a girl on YouTube do it. Then I did my research on clean ingredients and natural scents that still smelled good. My first successful product was my Turmeric Honey Glow Bar. I used to have dark marks and discoloration before I started using it.
To this day it was still my go to as I washed the makeup off my face. I followed with my Rosewater Toner, its fine mist refreshing and waking me up. Lastly I stepped into the shower to finish the rest of my body care routine.
The hot water pounded my skin as I tried to wash away the memory of the stripper’s hands. I reached for my signature Honey & Shea Body Polish, rubbing the granules over my curves in slow, circular motions, exfoliating away the scent of cheap cologne and club sweat. A rinse later, I followed with my Triple Butter Wash, thick and creamy, lathering the shower withvanilla and sandalwood until I smelled like my sweet normal scent.
I was reaching for my shower body oil when the glass door slid open behind me. Kel stood there biting her bottom lip and smiling at me.
“You’re making me cold,” I told her as I grabbed the oil.
She looked at my hardened nipples. “I see,” she grinned.
“Come warm me up,” I handed her the bottle.
