Still, I picked up the fork and took a few bites because she was standing there watching me.
My phone vibrated again in my pocket. I pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and read the text message preview at the top.
Security:Flight landed. She’s home.
I stared at the message for half a second too long.
Sienna’s voice came from too close, as if she was coming toward me. “Who is that?”
I locked the screen and slid the phone face down onto the counter. “Work.”
I set the coffee down and dragged my hand over my beard, already irritated by the shift in my mood. The whole morning had suddenly just gone left because of one damn text.
Ava was back in Chicago.
I hadn’t spoken to her, seen her with my own eyes, or heard her voice outside of the memories that hit me at random. But I knew what parts of Thailand she frequented the most. I knew what market she kept going back to, and what little restaurant she liked enough to return to twice in one week. I knew when shemet with vendors, when she was out late, when she was chillin’ by the water.
The night before Ava’s flight to Thailand, Saint called me talking about putting security on her while she was there, and I had hit him with, “Already did that.”
He had gone quiet for a second.
Then he said, “The fuck?”
I played it off, telling him it was my job to stay ahead of things and that he was slipping if he was just now thinking about it. I told him I wasn’t about to let anyone tied to the family move around overseas without eyes on them.
But I had honestly done that shit for me, for my own comfort and peace of mind. Because the second Ava got on that plane and left the country, I felt as if she had left me too. I needed to know where she was, that she was okay, and that she wasn’t over there falling in love.
Security was told to update Saint, but to update me on the low as well. I checked every update; every picture, every video clip, every little note about where she went and who she was with. I had watched her laugh in some market in Bangkok with bundles hanging from her hands and sunglasses on like life was so sweet without me in it. I had watched her on a boat with the wind hitting her dress. I watched her eat her way through half that country. I watched her glow magnify. I watched her get finer somehow.
And I had hated myself every time my phone lit up with another image and my first instinct was to open it like a thirsty nigga.
Leaving for Thailand had been the smartest thing she could’ve done for both of us. The distance had finally given me room to breathe and to get her out of my face and head.
But now she was back, and I could already feel myself slipping into that same old bullshit; yearning for things I had no business wanting.
Sienna touched my arm. “You’re somewhere else.”
I looked down at her hand on me, then up at her face. “I’m right here.”
“No, you’re not.”
Her voice wasn’t accusing. She was just observant. That was the problem right there. She was catching on to the rhythm of me, learning my moods, learning how to read what I didn’t say. I wasn’t surprised. That was what women did when they were in love. But I had made it clear to Sienna multiple times that I didn’t do relationships. I didn’t waste my time building some pretty picture in my head of a wife and kids. That shit never sounded sweet to me. It sounded suffocating, temporary and like one more setup for disappointment. I didn’t know how to love deeply because nobody had ever loved me like that first.
My father had never fucked with me. My mother dropped me off and moved on. My grandparents kept a roof over my head, but they made sure I knew I was a burden while they did it. I learned young not to expect softness, not to trust care that came with conditions, not to build my life around people promising forever when life killed, switched up, and left too easy.
So, I stayed out the way of all that.
At least I tried to, because Ava made that shit hard.
I didn’t like how we had left things before she got on that plane. But distance was still the best thing. Because whatever Ava wanted from life, whatever she needed from a man, I knew I wasn’t built to give it to her.
That was the only part that made staying away feel like the right move. Even if I hated it.
I stepped back from Sienna and grabbed my keys off the counter. “I gotta roll.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I wanted to spend some time with you. You got here so late last night.”
“And I’m leaving this morning.” I glanced at the time again. “That’s how this works.”
